The Life of a Premature Metro Goddess

I feel a bit trapped. I keep wondering why I return to this place where I can't see the Sun, where I feel as if I'm stuck in a pit of emotion that I can't work through, can't get out of. It's amazing how I've come to believe that my past really hasn't affected my present, and yet I am sitting here today, writing this today, feeling the way I do again today. I have daddy issues...A complex web of years isolated, and lectured to, and sat aside to which I said I was ok, and I'm not. I am angry, I am hurt, and I am furious. No matter how mature I am no matter how many years I have progressed into adulthood there is still a part of me which is a little girl wondering why her parents can never get along. Why my parents can't work together to create someplace where I am safe and stable. I am angry at my parents for putting their anger before my well being. I am angry at my father for making excuses, not understanding, talking around me like a well ver

This blog will be a little bit of Ashley thinking on paper. Some of my opinions are still being formed so keep and open mind. The Down Low; I’m sure we’ve all had some form of exposure to this modern concept, phrase, and/or lifestyle. The term has evolved quite far from R. Kelly’s original video concept of keeping his secret affair on the down low…Well that is until the boss’s men came in and found the boss’s girl with the boss’s boy (Kelly) and that’s when the shit hit the fan… oh how I reminisce. But let’s play catch up. For you who aren’t familiar with the term a brief overview brought to you courtesy of Urban Dictionary.com… { refers to when closeted black men leading mostly heterosexual lives seek other men for sex that is often anonymus and unprotected } oh I love the internet. Although the terminology for this lifestyle has only recently been established, there have always been men, and women for that matter, living in the confines of a traditional heterosexual marriage whi

I have a cold, I am pmsing, and there is a Tropical Depression, Ernesto, who has managed to complete the whole ruining process of my weekend. I have a cold. And although I am one of those “don’t do the medicated bullshit” type of girls, I’ve been doped up all day long on Dayquil and in about an hour it will be Nyquil…gel caps because I DON’T DO LIQUIDS… hell I’m not a child. I know how to swallow (and don’t make that last statement into something it shouldn’t be). I am pmsing which my boyfriend likes to refer to that as “During These Times”. And you know all those stereotypical lies that men continue to plant into our social subconscious about women being these over emotional creature who could cry at the drop of a hat… well I hate to say it but sometimes that shit it true. There was this one time when I was younger that for some reason my mother screwed up the food order and I didn’t get my double bacon cheeseburger with lettuce and mayo (Dairy Queen)… I screamed, I cried, and th

I'm a little bored and a little too comfortable. And I get like that sometimes, you all know that, you read this blog I don't need details to convey where I am. Honestly when I think about the way things are I realize that I'm really not bored at all. It's more like I'm comfortable; you know the way you get when big things that happen don't have to be big enough to tell the world because everything around you doesn't suck at the moment, and when things don't suck the big things tend to be less magnified due to the fact that you don't need gigantic things to make everything ok... And boy that's a mouth full. Although there is so much I could tell you. I could tell you about going to dinner with BFEBF... My best friends ex boyfriend who is now my boyfriend...I could tell you how we went out to dinner with my best friend and her fiancee and how things went so well... I could also mention that The Best Friend and myself were a little loopy (aka t

Pain is temporary, pride is forever... I have become that girl. The one you see all distraught at the gas station because she just left her boyfriend's house and he lives a few hours away. That girl, by the way, is a bit ridiculous because even though she's crying and pumping gas and listening to Wild Horses on her IPod, the boyfriend is on speaker phone talking to her the entire time...speaker phone because she drives like a mad woman when she's holding her phone and the steering wheel and clicking away at the IPod. Now rereading that, no I haven't become that girl entirely. In actuality the only piece of that I can claim is the Ipod, bad driving and speaker phone thing...no crying at the gas station, I'm a soldier . Pain is temporary, pride is forever... I will claim that as well. That's what his t-shirt says, the one that I like from the Coast Guard Academy, the one that I tried to take but he wouldn't let me...the one that he stuck in my suitcase

You asked for it. You asked to put a face with the name which had been shrouded in a complex and complicated past. You asked and you got what you wanted when you know you should have left it where it was in the first place. Why is it that you can get past the fact that BFEBF is just that, you can be in the same room hanging pictures and sipping Bacardi and not feel a second of insecurity or hesitation? But you look at a picture from the past, his past and instantly you are taken to a place where you are no longer number one and you are just the one he ended up with when the rest didn’t seem to work out. But then that is life. It’s a series of tests and trials which might not come to the conclusion on end result which you hope. Hell you don’t even know where 10 years will lead you… matching chocolate labs and Volvos, or perhaps daily prayer as you wake up in a convent and go about your holy orders…yes that’s an exaggeration. Maybe being in the room with you best friend and her e

I didn't realize until last night that I hadn't written poetry since November...that is a long time. Yay for new stuff... And I Said I said I want it messy, We all know what that means. I want it like it was before, With all the ones there was before... But before is before I knew you, Before you knew me, Before we knew what we could be, What we would be, And so this is where I am. I say I wanted messy when this is what I mean. I want you wanting me; Heart beating, Heavy breathing, In between moments and seconds In between you. Your lips and my hips Damn this space in between There’s no space between And you know what I mean In between me and you. I want body shivering Legs quivering Passion exists betwixt… I want you, I need you, You Love Miss Kiss Kiss me slower, Kiss me lower And now I’m drowning in what we are. And to think that before I never, Maybe we’ll do this forever Maybe you have me If you want me Then I’m yours. But do you have me? I mean if you want me… And then… I

Can someone explain to me this whole Vera Bradley phenomenon? Does everyone even know about it? Ms. Bradley is like the new Louis Vuitton bag to some. A simple bag, ranging from purse to diaper, that appears to be made from an assortment of printed quilt like material. My first introduction to Ms. Bradley was at my Alma Mater, all the rage at this conservative, Southern, liberal arts school in Virginia. Ms. Bradley was and is making money out the wazoo. And what is it that she has? I’m unsure, but what I do know is that patterns and quilt like material aside she has girls running to the bookstore on the regular dropping 20’s on pencil cases, and 50’s on mini purses, I dare to even consider the price of the coveted duffel. She’s got your boyfriends running in and doing the same, all to fall swiftly and smoothly into the crosshairs of your good graces. Low and behold upon leaving my lovely little school, Ms. Bradley is everywhere…EVERYWHERE. Shop windows, on the Metro, in the Cosi

Sometimes I just like it to be messy. That is what I told the best friend yesterday. That is what I then told BFEBF, because it is true. What do I mean by that you ask? I mean sometimes love is amazing. Sometimes the intense emotional care and concern is overwhelmingly amazing and time transcending. But then along with that sometimes you just want to be wanted so much that the other person canÂ’t breathe. Sometimes you want it to be heavy breathing, hands everywhere, "not so fast", "don't push that hard", clothes anywhere, up against a wall...messy. I say that wanting you to retain in your head my great love for the virginity I still have...you figure it out. Love vs. Lust, Nurture vs. Nature...2006. It's ok for a girl to pick any of those. It's ok to like it messy, to get it messy; because sometimes a girl doesn't need to hug, sometimes a girl just needs to be pushed up against a wall and that is ok. Yea, sometimes I like it to be messy.

I am happy! Did I just type that, is it possible that I could truly be at that point so quickly in the midst of my wanton in between? I should begin by saying I can't talk. My voice kind of escaped from me at some point during An Inconvenient Truth at the E Street Cinema. I went in with a voice, I came out... No voice. Maybe it got trapped in between the seats or something. (By the way GO SEE THAT MOVIE AND STOP DRIVING AMERICAN CARS...:-D) Now let's just get to the point; no beating around the bush, no background then easing you into the decision I have made. I like my best friend's ex boyfriend. Close your mouth, get that look of shock, disdain, and disgust off of your face. I cannot see it anyway and thus it really has no effect on me. Now don't we all feel better? This was not some rash, spur of the moment, underthought decision. It took some time, some evolving, some very important conversations, and much needed evaluation of exactly what it is that is going

I have a simple question for you all to ponder. What happens when your Best Friends Ex Boyfriend (B.F.E.B.F pronounced BaFebFa) decides to like you? Amazingly enough I have a simple answer to accompany that simplistic question...you run for the hills like they are coated with money and one of those cute Italkian soccer players is there to help you collect; oh yes that is after you have knee'd said B.F.E.B.F in the groin and ensured that he has lost the ability to procreate. See people this is what we call common sense, logical thinking, the way of the world of sanity. This is of course where my complications arise. MY B.F.E.B.F likes me. And somehow I managed to stay away from the hills and he still has the ability to procreate...well from what I know anyway but that is irrelevant. What do you do when you B.F.E.B.F likes you, you can't stop talking to him, and your best friend won't tell you no? I say this because I have asked, pleaded, begged her to tell me to stay away

I am broken again. I say that in way which does not relate to my emotional or physical state of being, solely to the way in which I offer all these thoughts of mine to whoever it is that reads them here. I cannot write. I have heard that in those moments when you cannot write, you must write because that is the only way to get yourself past that phase. I also heard a poet on Def Poetry who says he writes when he doesn't want to so he can get out the shit he doesn't know is inside of him...And so I write. I fill this space with words that mean nothing to me at the moment. There are several important things going on in my life which I could tell you all about but to say them at right now, not knowing how to convey them with the emotional content that has collected around them, would not do them justice and so I write. I write because I want to scream out. I want to stand outside and let all the wrongs wash away with the moving wind. And when I want to do that I write, I get i

It has been awhile...I blame this on dial-up and the fact that I'm in a sort of evolutionary limbo at the moment. Not going forward, not going backward just stuck : ( I would write about that but then I don't need to live it and see it in word form as well. I wrote something a while ago, a long while ago. At the time I thought it was this grand revelation into life...it was not : ) But it is slightly entertaining. I'm posting because I had a conversation the other day with The Best Friend's Ex-Boyfriend (How does that work?) about kissing and that show How To Get the Guy. To sum up the conversation: Me: I don't want a guy to suck off my face or my nose or my chin. BFEBF: Ok so what things are like a must Me: Nothing BFEBF: I mean there has to be some things that are just like it Me: It's individualistic. It depends on each individual person. You just don't know how it can be fixed until it happens. Kind of like the foundation of a house. You may

Last night I happened to catch one of Dateline NBC's reports on internet predators. I'd seen the commercials and somehow managed to miss all the ones before. After this all I have to say is wow. It is completely incomprehensible just how sick and twisted the members of our society have become, what's even harder to reconcile is the fact that maybe they haven't become sick and twisted, maybe they've always been that way...this seems a lot more likely to me. Maybe this sick, twisted, predatorial nature has been incubating under the surface, under the radar, under our noses forever just waiting for the proper moment to open up, waiting for the proper tool with which to bring chaos into our world, the internet. There are so many things about the broadcast which upset me, I'm sure I couldn't list them all, but the most pressing is the fact that sooo many men, this complete variety of grandfathers, fathers, brothers, uncles, fireman, rabbi, teachers, husbands, y

Regrets Memories Advice to our future goddesses: Fall in love. You won't always win but sometimes losing is just as important. In doing so you'll have a chance to see how strong you are, you will learn to grieve, to pull yourself out of the wreckage by remembering just what it is that makes you a strong and independent. Learn to appreciate the experience and the person, despite the good or the bad. Learn to forgive and to heal. Move on, remember the experience and put what you have learned to good use in the future. Each experience is a gift from God building onto our lives in a way that will leave us ready and prepared so that one day when you find that true love you will recognize it, appreciate it, be strong in it, and retain the person that YOU have become while walking the rest of your journey with another and realizing the joint difference between the two. Stand up for your self, don't let anyone ever make you waver in what you know is right. Don't allow an

Favorite Moments during this School year (order is random) 1. Clubbing with Meleeesa 2. Breaking the Bed with Him...and there wasn't even sex 3. Random Drunk Nights with Ashly on Piano and while I dramatically sang Wild Horses 4. That One Day at work when I think I really helped 5. Walks home from the late class with The Freshman (I haven't blogged him yet...hmm) 6. Thanksgiving Dinner at My house 7. Random drunk night where I told a certain friend not to "touch my boobies"...oh yes people, priceless. 8. The Seal A Meal...ewww.awww

For all of you who have not developed a serious addiction to Grey's Anatomy I am sure you will not feel the extent of the pain which I have managed to attain in the last 30 minutes...THEY KILLED DENNY! Perfectly funny, caring, TASTY Denny! I will not go into the lengthy background involved with this, because we all know that I can do these dissertations quite well. I will say who really gives a damn about Meredith Grey and who she chooses to sleep with for the next season: The Vet; The Surgeon...I really couldn't care less. If they wanted to leave me with a good cliff hanger, end the show with Denny flatlined after receiving the transplant so that we could ponder for the next several months whether he dies or not, wrench in that torture ABC, make it hurt. But no, they've killed Denny off. There will be no drawn out excrutiating pain of unknowing. What they did manage was to leave us wondering once again how many more times Grey and Sheppard will screw before they both jus

I'm a bit angry right now... Seething actually, I like that word. Seething. Today has not been a good day in general. I couldn't sleep as long as I wanted to, I was running late mailing graduation announcements because of certain outside forces, I didn't eat which led to a serious headache...And did I mention PMS...I could injure several people at this very moment and feel no remorse. Let me note yet again that I am very much a feminist, and I think that PMS as an excuse to explain why women can be firm, straight forward, angry, and opinionated is bullshit but at this very moment I KNOW that PMS is very much a contributing factor in my desire to push someone down the stairs. So anyway, I let my cousin use my computer. This happens often because her parents have a tendency to revoke those privileges every once in a while, just because...They are crazy, we all know this, there's no reason to bullshit, crazy. So in those moments I've allowed her (15 year old) to &q

Why is it that people who are stuck on past relationships try their damnedest to convince the rest of us that they are over it? The rest of us really don't matter in the grand scheme of the vast denial that you live in so WHY ON EARTH try to make us believe? What you are really trying to do is make yourself believe instead of facing the truth and moving on. "That shit reminds me why we aren't together" "I don't care about {INSERT NAME HERE} anymore, I just really hate them" "{INSERT NAME HERE} needed my help" " {INSERT NAME HERE} shat (I like that word) on my already broken heart, lit it on fire and then sprinkled the ashes in a landfill... but I can't just go away. What if they need me?"...So you didn't say that exactly, but it creatively conveys the gist. And you honestly expect me to look at this as "over it". Oh no you are very much into it my friend. You are stuck in the boggy ground of it all, lettin

I must admit in the past few months I have become quite addicted to this blogging thing. But I have moments when I can't think of anything to say, or I question whether I should be as honest as a girl can be to the rest of the world, and I question whether this is actually being read, is it helping anyone, do people really care...If not KEEP IT TO YOURSELVES... : ) No, but seriously, whenever I get in those moods I simply remember my Blogging Idol. She has no idea I call her that to my various friends, and I swear I will not use that title to refer to her anymore in this blog because her name is so much more appropriate, but moving on. It is her thirtieth birthday so I figured what better way to say Happy Birthday than to ramble on and on about how she impacts me. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELA! Well maybe I won't ramble. I stumbled upon About Last Night after previously having stumbled upon the City Paper, their box was right outside my office MCSR , their office was right next d

I've decided that if and when I get married, I do not want a diamond ring. I'd been thinking about that for awhile. The Best Friend is getting married and there are all these enormous decisions and traditions that go along with that, thus I started thinking about what if. What if at some point in the future I'm in a position where I actually can see myself being with one specific person for the rest of my life. Do I really want that feeling, commitment and meaning overshadowed by the "pomp and circumstance" of expenses and misplaced actions. Also, what I had been considering even previously was the idea of the diamond ring. First, the diamond is worthless. If it weren't for the fact that man has placed some illogical value on the shining rock there would be no value. Second, it's most popular use is for beautification and materialistic measure. And third, the ridiculously brutal and inhumane things that have occurred just to bring it to the surface, j

5/8/2006 If you asked me why, I'd say: Because you're remarkable. You are strong, determined, brave, intelligent, funny, inspiring, exceptional, and beautiful. Because you made me smile no matter what was going on. Because you were consistent and faithful to your word; You said something to me and I knew it would happen because that's just who you were. Because I trusted you with me; I trusted in your respect for me, and your care of me enough to never consider you being able to ever hurt me or wanting to hurt me or allowing yourself to hurt me. Because you pushed me and didn't allow me to have my way, you challenged me and we argued things and that is what I wanted. You made me think about the person I am, the person I want to be, and the things I must do in order to get there. You let me in just for a second, you let me into a place that I never thought I would see. And in that second I saw the smallest bit of your past, of the things that had molded and shape

I just returned from a wonderful three day retreat, followed by mom/family time, only to have developed in the last ten minutes and extreme sense of frustration, anger, and disappointment. I'll blog this mixture of emotions first so that I can blog all the good stuff later...Saving the best for last and all that jazz. About a week ago I went home for some reason, that is unclear to me at the moment, and had every intention of...oh yes that's it...I went home having every intention to work at my mother's job if they needed me and to return her car. Of course the work aspect did not happen mostly from the fact that I'd caught the train home the prior night only to turn around and drive back to school at 7 A.M. in order to teach Girl Scouts about archaeology(I loved it). This event was at my professor's house; Afterwards I drove back to school,packed up again and drove back home which took around 3 hours because of rain and traffic on 95. After a nice dinner from M

"The flowers of the wild cherry tree Flutter and wave. How could I not be thinking of your? It is just that your home is so very far away." The Master (Confucius) said, "He wasn't really thinking of her, or how could she be far away?

I used to have this habit, after having negative experiences with people I valued I would look at the entirety of the friendship, relationship, or whatever it may have been, evaluate the events and pull out the lesson which I gained to forever impact the way I interacted within the world. This allowed me to take the bad, and despite anything that occurred see that it was destined to turn out the way it did and that no matter what, I had learned something which would progress me on my journey through this world. This made life on the one hand easier to deal with during the hard times, but it also allowed me to appreciate the benefits of each experience I've had. But, such as it is with many other things in my life, I let this habit die. I guess it became swept up in the hard times of life, just like my optimistic "fate, destiny, signs" thing. So to get back to that, I need to try and pull out the experience that various people have given me, that part is easy. But what

I used to believe in signs. There was this point in my life where everything was jumbled and a mess and I was trying to figure out what it was that I truly felt was real, what I believed in, and who I was. Fate, destiny, signs. I know all of this seems illogical to some people, to trust in something that will show you the way, or that is meant to be beyond your control but I did, but I do and I think somewhere along the way I lost sight of what that really means to me. In the past few years I have been so caught up in the way I want things to be, or the expectations of it all that I strayed from the spontaneity and the surprise that I love... "Disappointment cannot exist without there first being expectations" and "It could be a lot better, but it could also be a lot worse" These were my motto, my mantra, my optimistic reassurance that kept me bright eyed and care free. And then life happened... But should all the hardships of the world be any excuse for lo

"They should call it a hassle not a "companion". That way when someone is like, "hey can I be your hassle" you can be like...No." I altered that quote slightly from its original context for the purposes of my post, but it has the same general point. No one exhibiting any signs of a normal state of being gets involved in something for the negatively dramatic hassle which will emerge. A relationship, no matter what form it may take, is created in order to benefit the parties involved, not in order to further some sadomasochistic need for self torture... Well unless both parties are sadomasochist but lets overlook that preference for the sake of this conversation. If I wanted yet another hassle to emerge from my life, specifically one which is very much unnecessary I'd do something which could have the potential for pleasure, even the insignificant, fleeting moment of pleasure; yes that's it I would take up alcoholism, Pomegranate Bacardi Smoothie

I'm being maintained. I hate that shit. Had it not been for my Blogging Idol, and I only refer to her as this to my close friends ( :\ if you're reading this ignore), I would not have been forced to pay attention to what is standing firmly in front of me, sort of doing that stare off thing with me to see who backs down first. I am in the Maintenance Call stage of a relationship. It kind of amazes me how it always manages to sneak up on you in the midst of a change which seems completly innocuous, and irrelevant. One day you are having lengthy conversations about personal exploration, expanding your horizons and boundaries and the next he only calls on his way from Borders... "I was studying, now I'm sooo tired... Let's talk about the current state of my residency so I can have another outlet for weighing my relocation decision all the while pretending to want to talk to you." This is what he's really saying but all you can hear is "How are you, I lo

Before I set out on this brief excerpt of my life/IM, let me just state that yes I do believe in God but my spirituality is definately not that of my family or many of my friends; that said: Antwan: http://www.streamingfaith.com/ Me: um... Me: i don't stream faith after mentioning it to Adam: Adam: ok, lemme see. this scares me a bit Adam: i don't like to see "holies" dancing **fiRefLy**

It was recently stated by a close friend that I'm only concerned with myself; I would have taken that comment a lot better had it come in the form of positive criticism and had it not been inaccurate but I will continue. This got me thinking, what does that me, only concerned with myself? Egotistic, narcisitic, self-involved, they all mean the same thing, but these can't be used as simple blanket terms because we really can never know where someone's concerns are placed. The only person who can truly know that is the respective party and so, I write. As a 21 year old, Premature Metro Goddess it is my privelage, hell, my right to be self absorbed. As pointed out by another close friend Other Close Friend: At this stage in our lives, we have to be concerned for ourselves because this is the first real time that no one else is concerned for us. They care, but we have to make our futures now. Although I know that my concerns are most definately not centered on myself alone, I w

What is a girl to do when she is trapped in the middle of a crossroads? Isn't that the purpose of this blogging space, to figure those things out; to find the fork in this road of life and take it knowing that down the beaten path is the success and the aspirations that we've waited so to attain. No, I don't really think so. I don't have the answers, not in any immediacy, even when I think I do or it is assumed, I do not have all of the answers to the questions that have yet to be asked and so I am here. What is a budding Metro Goddess to do when she can't decide upon the city to which she will position her mountain on high with which she will gaze down upon the rest of this world? Do I play it safe and maintain the path that is laid out ahead? At this point find a job in my respective city is about as easy as finding a hot pair of closed toe kitten heels on the shoe aisle of T.J Maxx...I've tried and so far it just has not worked itself out. My choice is to re

You are going to lose him. When it comes to that day and you walk across that stage in all your glory and acheivement he will not be there. You will not run into his arms and scream "I made it!". You won't make those ecstatic introductions, or wipe the crumb from the corner of his mouth. You will not lay in his arms when it's all over and smile at the things you have to look forward to. You won't, and you knew that, you just wouldn't let yourself make it real. I guess I should have known, I mean my horoscope did tell me just yesterday, and we all know the unwavering reliability that holds: Your situation in love can change with the breeze. You can get swept up in a sweet idea, only to be set back down someplace quite different from what you imagined. Don't be misled by your own dreams now, for they can stir feelings in your heart that make you do foolish things. and then there's the weekly one: There's no holding back your feeling

What did I do to deserve this? I think I've apologized for being a sorceress in my past life. I can't walk, I can't cook, I can't pull an all nighter, then take that evil Ethics test without the constant pre-sneeze. You know that feeling where your nose tingles, and it wrinkles up just a little bit before the air is heaved out of your body and across the room? Imagine that feeling for about 8 hours straight, my allergies are working me life a full time job, and girl gotta make a dollar. I will not play the game, I will not be drugged up and worn out from the weird drunkening affect of Claritin, or the immediate "Do not Operate a vehicle, or lift heavy items" drowsiness brought on by Sudafed. I will stand strong, shit I'm a soldier. I will manage the frustration with my pilates breath...In through the nose, 1..2..3, out through pursed lips, 1...2...3. I will wave my banner proud, that is Kleenex, and don't mistake that white flag for surrender, that Kle

Why are we so focused on pefection. The perfect look, the perfect life, the perfect love. All of these moments we are offered in this world and we focus on that which does not exist, the apex of motivation, the Kodak Moment. Love is not perfect. Life is not perfect. They can't be air brushed or touched up. They can't be reshot or predesigned. They just are. What we tend to overlook is the fact that the Kodak Moment is rarely pefection, it is rarely flawless skin on Elle, or the ultimate fantasy wedding in the society pages. The Kodak Moment is usually that rare moment in life when our sensibilities and our insecurites are set aside. When for an instant we forget the expectations, we forget the world around us, we enter into moments of light where we can just be. Those pictures which are out of focus, that show the truth behind our eyes...survivors, babies smiling, family embracing, lovers in love, and greif in its midst...those moments are truth captured and not to be forgotten

**check previous, you might get it...this is shorter** I’m here toying with the idea… The idea of falling in love with you. If I like this speed And it seems like I need To have you kiss my lips from time to time In the midst of writing some poetic rhyme That’s how I love to fall. It would be so hard to break away At the dawn of day When the world calls us away And our separation grows. Negotiating with minutes Expectations of when we finish And make our way back to this place we call love If love, My love, I’m loving that. So maybe I won’t fight back, Try to gain solid ground I’ll let you move all around This world of mine. And in time Well yea, I guess I could fall. Maybe.

I am stuck in a place of invisible imagination, unappearing thoughts, and silence... yes people I am having a horrible case of writer's block. This does happen from time to time. It creeps up on you like rain in the midst of a perfect seaside vacation. You're at sea dipping your toes into the warm blue when the sky opens up, God laughs as he shoots down a bolt of thunder, and you are sequestered to the stale lonliness of your tiny tiny hotel room; you'd be lucky to get good room service at this point. The hotel room wouldn't be as horrible if it weren't for the fact that you had so much left to do...scuba lessons with that hot hot native, dinner on the shore with the guy in 3B, a little spa time for you and your travel buddy on the ample balcony of your hotel. And this is where the analogy stops. There is so much I want to say. I want to put into words that letter I have yet to write to my estranged father...hmm estranged I never thought of it that way before. I wan

Am I in love with you? Why in the hell would you ask me that question? Were you thinking about it, did I save you from an oncoming bus, did I ask to have your children? I don't remember any of those things so where did that come from? I must admit I am quite fond of you. The way you smell, the way I never worry about all of those self conscious parts of myself, the way you hold me from behind and I feel your body match the curves of mine...but I'm not in love with you. I enjoy talking to you, arguing with you, laughing with you, playing with you.

It all stems from men. No I am not quoting some long lost biblical text, or even the latest trumpeteer of male domination. This my friends is the somewhat sarcastic conclusion which was reached at my Women of Color discussion group. First let me explain a few things. After 3 years at a predominantly white, private, liberal arts school, no matter how diverse one may be a little meeting with the sistas from time to time was quite necessary. This revelation took time; I was initially the soft spoken, "appropriate", token black girl. I've had my share of all knowing assumptions from the less than informed blonde girls whom I'd spent most of my freshman year "bonding" with... "even the black people where I live think there are two kinds of black people. Black people and nig..." Let this trail off into oblivion for my and everyone else's sake. I've also had my fair share of "the whitest black girl I know" comments. Yes I like Incubus, m