Archive | October 2010

Late Night Ramblings of 2010 – #8: No one Man should have all that Power

Its interesting the things I think about these days. About a month ago, while attending church (read: Driving through the mountains of Arizona as its the closest I have ever felt to God) I asked God to remove the feelings I had for a specific person. Actually, for a specific kind of man. The man, who has such a dominant personality that it compels me to get lost in my “worship” of them and their place in my life.

In my quest to find my soulmate, I  forgot that the perfect relationship is not one in which you give all your power away, but instead in the relationship that allows you to share the power you both have with each other.

For 10+ years, I willingly confessed that I had no control over how I felt about a certain person. I gave him all the power in the relationship, and at the end of it, he used that power to destroy it. I knew what he was doing. I knew, after day 4 that he would try anything to make me hate him. To stop looking at him as my emotional savior, my soullmate. Becuase he didnt deserve it? Because it wasnt true? I dont know why he did it. Was it effective? Hell yeah.
But more than being hurt, I was upset with myself for allowing one person to take me to a place that I hadnt been since fall of 2000.  I gave up my power, just handed it over. Took me until last week to realize, No One Man Should Have All That Power.

In talking about the dynamics of relationships, and our hopes and dreams in life. What are you wishing for? Honestly, are you waiting for someone to complete you, or complement you? Until you look at yourself, and see a complete person, you will always give up some of your power. Because you are always going to depend on that person for validation. To make sure that what you do is okay, that what you wear is meeting their approval.

So today, I can admit that I’m not complete. I’ve been shattered into 1000 pieces, and I am still looking for about 500 of them. Until I finish finding me, I choose to go it alone. Patiently waiting to declare, “You Are the Only Exception.”

Dear Black People, Love Jones is a Stupid F*cking Movie . . .

Yes, I singled the Black People out in this one. I know that there are other races that watch Loves Jones. I totally know that, however, in certain circles of African American People (ages 25 – 35) this movie is the mecca of all things Black Love. When this movie came out {1997}, I was 15. My mother wouldn’t let me see it because it was rated R. Based on everything my friends said, I was quite upset that I wasn’t able to finally understand what Love really was.

Junior year of College, I finally saw Love Jones. I Didn’t Get It. I watched the whole movie, and I didn’t get it. I was waiting for the moment that made things new again, and created this “Epiphany of Epic Proportions.” Imagine my surprise, when I discovered that it was really just a movie about people that went to a poetry club? I will admit, the chemistry between Nina {Nia Long} and Darius {Sexy Fine Ass Larenz Tate} was exceptional. I will go even further and say, the verbal interplay was decent. But this movie should, in NO WAY, be a guide on how to find love.

I now present to you, The Top 5 Reasons

Love Jones is a STUPID F*CKING MOVIE!

Reason Number 5: He Stalked Her

He asked for her number twice, she said no. He got her number off a check that she wrote and went to her house. REALLY?!?!? What Black Woman do you know is going to let a perfect stranger in her HOUSE after he stalked her?? Like, I know he’s fine and everything, but really. The beginning of this whole relationship is fraudulent. She just opens the door, calls him out for 15 seconds, then lets him in the house? If this was a booty call, then it would make total sense. But it wasn’t. She don’t know him, and he was at her house. I call Bullshit!

Reason Number 4: She Smashed the Homies!

In what black circle of friends {non-greek} do you know a girl who can be in a serious relationship with one member of the group, break up with that person, then hump on another member of that group? He made this heaux Cheese Omelettes, and she slept with his boy, and no one thought to call her out, but HIM?!?

Lisa Nicole: “You just sorta slipped and fell on his dick?”
then, this heaux says, ” It was like his Dick just . . . talked to me,”
LN: “What it Say?”

She was foul as hell for that, yes I’m Judging. And please, what BLACK dude actually owns a hearse that doesn’t own a funeral home? Us Nigra’s don’t like Haints, and he gone drive around inviting them to come kick it?

Reason Number 3: Nina’s Poem was Whack

It is the color of light, the shape of sound. High in the evergreens, it lies suspended in hills, a blue line in a red sky. I am looking at a sound. I am hearing the brightness of high bluffs and almond trees, I am tasting the wilderness of lakes rivers and streams caught in an angle in song. I’m remembering the water the glows in the dawn, the motion tumbled in earth, life hidden in mounds. I am dancing a bright beam of light. I am remembering… love . . .

Seriously……. Love is a Tree, an evergreen tree? What Negro Child grew up around evergreen trees? Bish, you lived in New York. If you had said “Love is the Snow that drifts from Upstate New York.” I might have believed you. But lakes rivers and streams?!?! I Don’t Believe You, You Need More People!

Reason Number 2: Why Couldn’t the Big Girl get some Attention?

Lisa Nicole Carson was the only believable character in this movie. She said what everyone else should have been thinking. She even tried to help Darius get to Nina before she left. As they started their relationship is a stalker type mode, that phone call was a perfect way to say it. Why did she have to be the lonely big girl friend who just offered support and funny one liners. {I could be biased on this one}

Reason Number 1: What the hell was Darius Talking about in his Poem?

Now, do they call you Daughter to the Spinning Pulsar… or maybe Queen of 10,000 moons? Sister to the Distant yet Rising Star? Is your name Yemaya? Oh, hell no. Its got to be Oshun.

The F*ck is this nigga talking about?!? You know you had to Google all of them names. This is why the Pegro’s love this movie, cuz you feel smart if you can relate. Yemaya is actually referring to a Goddess. In Yoruba she’s the Goddess of Pregnancy, in Umbanda she is the Queen of the Ocean, in Santeria she is the Mother of all living things. Do you know how long it took me to find that information? I lost 10 minutes of my LIFE figuring that out. I should NOT have to have an advanced degree in African-based Religions to watch a Mu’F*ckin’ Movie!
Ya’ll know you didn’t actually start paying attention until Darius started talking about the sex. Lets just discuss the most popular line of the poem.

And right now… I’m the blues in yourleft thigh… trying to become the funk in your right.

Ummmmmmm, seriously? He’s trying to be her Restless Leg Syndrome? The BLUES in my Left thigh? So my left thigh is sad? It’s not pleased with the choices I have made for it? And my Right thigh is in a Funk?? It’s pissed off because it doesn’t get what it wants? Why are you trying to mimic that? I just don’t understand?
*Note: I get the gist of the poem, I’m not retarded. But it’s JUST a fly poem. Not the end all, be all of Spoken Word . . .

Other things that bother me:

*Love is urgent like a Mu’fucka?
*Really, we just gone stand in the rain and talk, who DOES that?
*This n*gga ran to catch a train, and didn’t call her to say he did?
*You waited a whole year, and THAT was what you said about the Love you had for him?
*Why was Bill Bellemy even in the movie?
*The Chick with the Braids? Why was she the only person with common sense, and she was single?

The Moral of this blog: This Movie is just that . . . . A. Movie. The best thing about this movie, the Soundtrack. Now THAT is awesome. It takes you to a very calm and peaceful, grown up place. If you are trying to get your Grown and Sexy on, I highly recommend just popping that CD in, and gettin’ to work!

“Can I Play Something for you?”

You don’t have to agree with me, I already know I’m right. I won’t even judge you for your comment that is going to defend everything I just proved was f*cking stupid about this movie. Share this blog with friends, so they can yell at me too! But again, Love Jones is a Stupid F*cking Movie.

Preference or Groupie Luv . . .

*For the purposes of this blog, no organization has been specifically named, but you aren’t stupid (hopefully).*

 

Whenever I hear the word Groupie I think of certain people, and certain actions.  So when I was called a Groupie by someone that knows me very well, I was taken aback.  Not so much insulted, but it did give me pause.  Have I presented myself as a Groupie in recent years? Is this what people think of me? The next question I had to ask was, how do you define a Groupie?

 

According to Dictionary.com a Groupie can be defined as:

1) an ardent fan of a celebrity, esp a pop star: originally, often a girl who followed the members of a pop group on tour in order to have sexual relations with them
2) an enthusiastic follower of some activity: a political groupie

 

I am a member of a Black Greek Lettered Organization {BGLO}.  This must be stated, so that the next few paragraphs have some frame of reference.  My Sorority has a Brother organization.  While most other BLGO’s claim connection to org’s of the opposite sex, they are not “Constitutionally Bound” as we are. Having grown up as an only child, the prospect of having a nationwide network of Sisters and Brothers greatly appealed to me, and was one of the many selling points when choosing to join my Sorority.

 

 

FACT: I don’t like females. I never have.  We, as a species are full of emotions, and drama, and BS. I realized long ago that dealing with males brought less of the three aformentioned qualities into my life.  So, even before I became a member of my Fine Organization, I spent most of my time with males. It was easier to converse and feel safe and unjudged in the presence of males.

So imagine the surprise of most of my childhood friends when I joined a Sorority.  “You mean you volunteerally choose to spend a large part of your college life in the presence of women? That doesn’t even make any sense.” Yet, I love the tenets of my Sorority.  I love everything that it, as an organization, stands for.  I also love the fact that I am affiliated with it for the rest of my life. I honestly didn’t understand how much my Brothers would impact my life.

 

BUT, joining my Sorority didn’t magically make my proclivity to befriend members of the male species go away.  In fact, because the Men I know called Brother were such Men of High Standard, it made me want to spend more time around “My Brothers.” {Sometimes, I hang out with my Sorors.  But the majority of them that I have met and liked I knew before I was Greek or we met using a social medium where we connected based on personality and not the fact that we belonged to the same Sorority.}

 

IMO, a Groupie is a person that goes out of their way to belong to a certain group. A Groupie spends time and substantial effort to make him/herself noticed by this particular group, in order to feel welcomed, loved, and/or accepted.  But, what if you already belong to the group? If you spend the majority of your time with that group because of your affiliation with them, does that make you a Groupie?

If it’s understood that you naturally gravitate toward a certain caliber of people, or look for certain qualities in the people that you associate with, how are you being a Groupie? Based on the stated definition, you aren’t trying to gain acceptance.  You have already been accepted into the group.

I spent most of my time in college {post college as well} with other members of BGLO’s. Most of the people I knew that were in that select group of people thought the way that I did.  We had the same view of the world.  In the reference to the male members of these BGLO’s they are still men. On occasion, I have found myself attracted to some of them.  Not because they were members of these organizations {okay, well maybe a lil’ bit}, but because they were cute, funny, intelligent, etc.

 

 

For the purposes of this blog, I will admit that the majority of the men I have been involved with have been members of my Brother Organization. Not because I actively sought them out, but because I spent most of my time in the presence of members of my Brother Organization.  So does that make me a groupie . . . .

Or just a Whore?

*Okay, I’m not a whore. The purpose of that statement was to create a dramatic segway to my conclusion.  Not my confessions of whoredom.  Focus people.*

 

As a healthy female looking for a mate, I have certain preferences. BGLO’s have just taken care of the vetting process for me.  Why can’t I use my affilation to find suitable mates? Why must I be considered a Groupie/Whore because I choose to surround myself with a specific group of people?  If I happen to date someone in a group in which I am already considered a member, how does the word Groupie even apply?

 

This is not to say, that I haven’t done Groupiesque things, in order to get the attention of a specific male.  This male could even be a member of my Brother Organization.  But at a certain point, his affiliation is no longer relevant.  There are PLENTLY members of my Brother Organization and other BGLO’s that I can’t stand, and make it a point to never be around.  The same can be said about my Sorors,

BUT, if the range of people in which you are currently associating with is considered a group {and by extension you are a member of that group} in and of itself, are you really a Groupie? This blog could be my way of justifying my actions, or my thoughts, or my using the Matrix as my own personal dating service.  All these things could be true, but HONESTLY, what do you think?

 

Save a Horse – Ride a Big Girl

*For the Purposes of this Blog, the term Big Girl refers to any female who wears Size 14 and Above.  Her thighs touch, she might have a stretch mark or two, but she is still DAMN SEXY.*


Let keep it real folks.  Big Girls get a bad rep. We are portrayed in the Media as either Loud and Boisterous (Mo’Nique) Stern and Motherly (Ester Rolle) or as a Judge (Every Version of Law and Order). It’s about time a Big Girl kept it real about why we are the best girlfriend you’ve never had.  This isn’t going to be a me pleading our case, instead, I am just gonna tell you what you need to know about the Big Girls of the World. Some folks may not agree with me, and that’s fine.  But as a Big Girl, I get to say this with Pride . . . Big Girls Rule!


Fact: Big doesn’t Mean Ugly.

Just because we actually have meat on our bones doesn’t mean we aren’t attractive.  You can be beautiful at any size, regradless of what society says.  There is a common misconception that just because you might be fat, means you are also dirty.  We shower.  We bathe. We probably take better care of ourselves than that skinny chick you’re dating.  We have just as much sexy clothing as the next girl, ours just looks better.  Tell me men, does a halter top look better on 32 B’s or on 40 DD’s. Keep  in mind, there are some big girls that think just because Lane Bryant or Torrid sells it, they should own it. {We aren’t talking about the musty Big Girl at the club.}

Fact: Most Big Girls Have a Job

We have needs.  Our clothes cost more than the scraps of clothing that Becky wears, so we work to get what we need.  Because we have to deal with the knowledge that people aren’t going to automatically choose to cater to us, we have to hone our skill set.  We are probably on the fast rack to advance in our career, because we handle our business.  Big/Fat doesn’t mean lazy.  We probably don’t need you to pay for anything {Hair, Nails, etc.} because when you met us, it was already taken care of. Plus, we know how to cook.  HELLO!!!!!! The Big Girl you meet that doesn’t know how to cook a full course meal is a failure. At Life, At Fatness, and at relationships.

Fact: Some Big Girls don’t have Self-Esteem Issues

We know we have it together.  We don’t need you to tell us how important we are to you every other minute.  We Like Us. We aren’t fragile creatures who will break at the littlest things.  Matter of Fact, it takes alot to get us to that point.  {For those of us who have been Big the majority of our lives, you really can’t come with anything that we haven’t already had to deal with.} Our self-confidence often borders on arrogance.  In our minds, I am just as great as anyone else, and if you have an issue with it, you can just move the F*ck on.

Fact: Your Heat Bill will Go Down

Stop Laughing! Seriously, Big Girls love to Cuddle! You have your own Electric Blanket! It’s like a human Snuggie.  Real Talk, some Big Girls just exude heat, you don’t even have to be that close to us.  We just wanna sit on the couch and hang out.  We don’t have to put our head in your lap.  Honestly, it would probably be more comfortable if you put your head in our lap. Plus, it’s gonna be rare that you accidentally get poked in the side by a bony elbow or knee. Lay your head on my pillows . . . and just relax, relax, relax . . .

Fact: The Sex is Better

If you take nothing else from this blog, understand this. Sex is Better with a Big Girl.  There are many reasons this is true, but lets just focus on three major points.

1) Flexibility: We are more flexibile, and less likely to be injured during the act.  “More Cushion for the Pushing,” it ain’t just a saying.  I’m not just saying this from personal experience, I have many male friends who are dating/engaged to/married to Big Girls, and they all say the same thing, “Best Sex I’ve Ever Had.”

2) Oral Skill: I’m gonna try to not be vulgar on this one.  But think about it logically.  It’s safe to say, your average Big Girl has a well developed sense of taste.  As the mouth is the most sensitive area on the body, we get pleasure from placing things inside of it, right? So doesn’t it stand to reason that anything placed inside our mouth would gain as much pleasure as we would gain from putting it inside there? #ImJustSayin

3) Sex Drive: Stamina and Frequency. We require both.  I’m willing to bet you will get tired before a Big Girl will.  Again, this is not based on my opinion, but on conversations with numerous people.  Skinny chicks will start to complain about their Pelvic Bones hurting, and they think they pulled a muscle when you slammed them up against the wall . . . Big Girls say, “Is That It?”

I didnt write this blog to boost my already enormous ego. Nor did I write so that some man would magically fall in love with me. I wrote it because I’m real tired of Big Girls getting the short end of the stick. Everybody needs love, and if the only reason you wont talk to the Big Girl in your office is because you arent sure what your boy is going to say about it, Grow The F*ck Up.

When you call to ask his advice, he wont pick up. The Big Girl he met at the club this weekend just made some Ox Tails and Pinto Beans and is giving him the bomb ass….

………………………………..He’ll Call You Later