Love Is…

Two years ago today, I celebrated my love for Earl by promising to be his from now into eternity. And as I do a retrospective of my life over the last few years as well as all my years of knowing what love is… I think I can make a preliminary short list assessment of what love is… and what it isn’t. This is purely my experience… because everyone’s is different.

All that LOVE isn’t -

All that LOVE IS –

It is being married for 2 years to one of the most amazing men I’ve known in all my life. Through our ups and downs, swerves and straight paths… I like him… I think I’ll keep him a while longer.

I love you my sweet angel.

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Temporary Christianity

I’ve been writing THIS blog in my head since I moved to Brooklyn – but tonight? I gotta put it to paper.

When I was a kid, the Christian (Roman Catholic) church I attended was in a residential area… as most are. It had a big church, chapel and 2 school buildings that occupied a city block. Most folks walked to church. Some drove. Those that drove had to bust out early so they could attempt to find parking that was nearby because there was no communal parking for the church which seems to be a standard downfall for church participation. But folks did it. Because that’s what they needed to do to obey the law AND be good followers of the Word.

NOW…

In Brooklyn – at the very least on this block – but I KNOW it happens in other areas… the followers? are BUCK WILD when it comes to what they have to do to get in the building to praise and worship. They go all the way to the right with Bloomberg’s “pay to pray” ruling where the meters are free on Sundays. And I get that. It makes sense. But around here? YOU. BETTA. RECOGNIZE. I live next door to Mount Lebanon Baptist Church. When you come out of the Utica Avenue Station on the A, there’s a SIGN that directs you to Decatur street so you can attend. You can only imagine what the congregation size might be. And every sunday – you need to KNOW what side of the street to park on if you’d like to have a life and go out of this neighborhood before 4 PM (or later, pending on the occasion). They double park on my side of the street from corner to corner… blocking everyone else in. Just like that. And if you couldn’t find a parking on the other side… TOO DAMNED BAD FOR YOU.

I’ve had a number of incidents with this church blocking me in not just on a Sunday… but on a Tuesday… a Thursday … and even an occasional Saturday. Several times where I needed to get my car out so I could rush to my mother’s side when she was sick and dying and wherein every minute was precious, I had to bargain with the ushers in the vestibule to please NOT MAKE ME WAIT UNTIL THE OFFERING WAS OVER to go get the person who blocked me in. Several times, I had to drive my car up on the sidewalk because no one was responsive to wanting to move their cars to let me out of my LEGAL parking space so I could go on about MY LIFE and MY world. On New Year’s Eve once, I was blocked in by a very shiny, very new, very expensive blue JAG YOO ARE and when I went in to request being set free so I could ring in the new year with my best friend, I learned it was the Pastor’s car. When he came out to move it… he didn’t even acknowledge me… not a nod of his head, not a mouthing “Excuse me, sister” for blocking me in or even… (this is a stretch) wishing me a Happy New Year. His attitude pushed past me and angrily moved his ILLEGALLY PARKED CAR to the side so I could be let out. Had I EVER… EVER… EVER had an aspiration to join that congregation out of pure convenience of it being next door? It died that night. In a different neighborhood, the double parkers scratched a pattern into my driver side door because of their lack of parking / driving acumen and didn’t leave word as to who did it… not an apology… NOTHING. And forget about coming home while their hoot’n'a’hollerin in the church. You MUST WAIT – not only till the service is completed… but till they’ve done “catching up” with one another on the sidewalk so they can move their cars and go back to their neighborhoods, thus freeing up the parkings on the block near your building of residence. This? goes on till 10 or 11 PM at times. *glancing at the clock to see that it’s 9:00 and they’re still yelling across the street at one another*

Tonight (it is THURSDAY NIGHT) they are double parked on my block for as far as the eye can see and they are not even IN THE CHURCH. They are all posted up on the block … talking AS LOUDLY AS THEY CAN so that me on the 3rd floor of the walk up I live on can hear every fucking word of their banter. I’m so much a part of their lives right now? It’s NOT EVEN FUNNY.

How is this Christian behaviour? They’re not showing me or any residents of this block who own cars LOVE. I’m positive if the shoe were on the other foot they’d NOT want to be treated as such. What happened to “do unto others?” Their Christianity lasts as long as they need it to to find the double park opportunity and make it into the doors of their church (or not, in tonight’s case) to praise and worship with their brethren. It makes me SICK and puts ONE MORE feather in my cap of non-religiousness, pro spirituality so that I don’t have to brush shoulders with the likes of THAT kind of hypocrisy.

SO…
if this is YOU… who randomly does this just to be on time for worship… please – think about the next christian that you may be blocking in… inconveniencing or generally COMPLETELY TURNING OFF to the idea of worshiping in a building with you or the likes of you. It’s distasteful. It’s disrespectful. It’s UNLAWFUL and gosh golly darnit… it’s JUST NOT NICE.

*descends from her pulpit*

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What’s the Plan

People…. I tell ya…

When my hair was relaxed and straight (which was for about 24 years of my life), I would wash it once a week, style it in some way that might last for about that long (so mostly a wrap resulting in a bob) that I’d unravel in the morning and put a dollop of moisturizer in or leave in conditioner, comb and go. And for all those years, all I got was “oh… Your hair looks nice” or “gosh, it’s getting so long!” Or “it’s so shiny!”. And folks would move along. That was cool and it worked for then.

I did my big chop on June 21, 2008 and felt wonderful. I was finally going to know what my REAL texture felt like. All that time transitioning, whenever I would touch my new growth, it was like expecting a baby (I imagine). You have an idea of what it’ll be like, but you won’t KNOW until it’s out.

The first few months of it being short were a learning period for me. Getting to learn how many different textures there were and how they’d all need their own special attention and care. Not necessarily different products, but a different way of touching them, manipulating them and arranging them. In my TWA phase (teeny weeny afro) I got a lot of ooohs and aaahhhs about being ballsy enough to chop it off. One comment that hipped me to the future was “You’re lucky it’s curly and not kinky…”. I was initially taken aback thinking – I would have had to love whatever sprouted up because THAT was the REAL me. So if it WAS indeed a head full of tight, kinky, seemingly unmanageable naps…. Then that would be ME and I’d love it.

So now I wake up every morning, unwrap my hair from it’s night tie, condition wash my hair (yes, every morning), lightly towel dry or “plop”, tousle and let air dry all day. It ends up in a crown of shiny curls and kinks that frame my ears and face that I love. And now, I get “oh my gosh, your hair is so shiny…” Or “wow it’s getting so long so fast…” or “it looks so nice”. The difference is, now? All those statements are immediately followed by “what are you going to do with it next??”

Huh?

I have to have a game plan for my hair? I dunno…. I was thinking of rinsing and repeating. It’s so strange. 24 years of damned near the same style EVERY SINGLE DAY and there was no desire to have it be any different than the day before or know what was the next step. But now there has to be a performance schedule for my hair. “Well on Tuesday it’ll be performing Afro puffs then corn rows on Thurs and perhaps a twist out on Friday….” No one asks me what my game plan to buy a house is; no one asks me what my game plan to become financially free is; No one is asking me how I intend to help President Obama’s plan for change along. But the world wants to know what I’m gonna “do” with my hair next.

NO…. I’m not going to braid it – that’s never been my style. NO… I’m not going to twist it – that looks all sorts of wrong on me. MAYBE … I’ll press it and wear it straight on occasion. WHEN I’M 45… I will begin the process of locking it – ONLY if I decide to follow Rastafarianism – because it’s have to be that serious (I realize that’s not just a hairstyle… it’s a way of life). And NO… NEVER will I EVER put the chemical fire cream to my follicles again.

Until I do something else…. I’m just growing my hair, letting it breathe and letting it be. Now you have my game plan.

What are YOU doing with your hair??

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Whaaaa….

The title of this post is stated just like Jermaine does in this clip at 0:45

So… funny conversation with the new gyn today (this already sounds like it’s going down hill, huh?)
Not Funny “ha ha” but funny like… Whaaaaa….?

She was going down the list of all the medical history questions and ailment and what not.

Dr.: Any history of domestic abuse, sexual abuse, mental abuse?
Me: Yeah, I was abused as a child
Dr.: Sexually?
Me: Yes.
Dr.: Oh… did you seek some help about that?
Me: Yeah, back in college.
Dr.: Are you okay now?
Me: Wait…. I get to be okay at some point?
Dr.: ((silence))
Me: ((smug))
Dr.: I’m very sorry.
Me: It’s okay – gotta keep a light humor about it.
Dr.: Okay… ((reading down the list)) any STDs?
Me: *thinking* boy, that list sets her up for epic failure, huh?

Outside of her twitch that makes her blink EXTRA hard, she seems to be a good doctor. Hope she doesn’t disappear like the other quack.

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