Sparks are flying...

To be alive: not just the carcass
But the spark.
That's crudely put, but ...

If we're not supposed to dance,
Why all this music?

~ Gregory Orr ~

I read this poem for the first time today. I love it. It's simplicity is timeless and to the point. The message being: Live Your Life! People often say to me, "girl you're always going somewhere, doing something." My response is usually something to the effect of: "well yeah, I like to live my life and enjoy it to the fullest." Although I'm often on my blog discussing kids and marriage, relationships and such, I truly enjoy being single and being me. Whenever I think of the blessing of having the ability to just jump and move with a second's notice, I get excited and realize that may be why God has not mated me with the right person (or lately ANY person). He, like me, understands that I would have a lot of adjusting to do.

I really love living LIFE. I like that I have accomplished personal goals. I am proud of the wisdom, knowledge and even some possessions I have acquired as a single woman. I have a trip planned for next month with my best friend. I cannot wait! We put together the details in a matter of a month and a half. We kind of roll like that- living life!

I completed my first scarf this Monday. I have been wearing it and the matching hat I knitted ever since. I have always wanted to knit since I was a little girl, so to complete two projects and embark on a new one, is big. Again, I am living LIFE. Whether it's the 5K race, cruising the Mediterranean, going to a Bon Jovi concert or seeing the Blackhawks play hockey, I keep living. I keep moving.

There was a time when certain things seemed only appropriate for me to do with a man, my man. But the more time keeps ticking, I cannot be so naive to think that 'he' is promised to me. I believe in my heart I was made to love and that there is someone just right and perfect for me. But, until he comes, I have to live life as if he does not exist. I cannot wait to buy my first property with my husband, I need to start investigating this on my own now. I couldn't wait for 'him' to take me to Europe, I went with my Mama and family. It took too long for 'him' to come and take me to my first opera, did that with my Mama too. I wanted 'him' to escort me to see such soul artists as Maxwell and Jill Scott, but due to impatience I went with Nicole and had a blast. I would have loved to have knitted my first scarf for my 'beau' as some of my knitting classmates did, but making a hot pink one for me, seemed so much more appropriate. Did I want my 'boo' to frolic with me on the white beaches of Mexico, yep, but my best friend came much sooner.

As you know if you've been following my blog, there is no 'him'. But figuratively, whoever this mythical figure is, he is taking his sweet time getting to me. Therefore, my heart's desires have to be taken care of in spite of this. I have decided most of these dreams and goals, cannot wait a moment longer and must become reality now. Life really is too short. One day, the high school you is in a twin daybed in Hyde Park on a school night listening to your dad's loud t.v. through your bedroom wall and the next, you're 30 in your own apartment full from food you purchased yourself, for yourself writing on your personal blog on a work night about whatever you damn well please. The moral of this story: time waits for no one.

For the Record...

I got my OFFICIAL time for the race. Turns out, your girl ACTUALLY completed the race in 42min 43sec...nice! I just wanted to clear that up, night, night.

"I found God in myself/and I loved her/I loved her fiercely."-Lady in Red (For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf

I do believe I have found the God in me. I feel He/She has been here all along. But, there are times when I do not listen for Him. There are times when I do not seek Her. I spend so much time thinking. Thinking about absolutely nothing of value and substance. But I am a woman of substance, so this is unacceptable on many levels. According to my calculations, I have stayed home the past seven Saturday nights. Not always intentionally, but I just found myself at home instead in the streets. My home has become my personal sanctuary and I am so grateful for it.

Seven is a Holy number. God rested after creating the world on the 7th day. Jesus multiplying the seven loaves. Maybe my seven Saturdays is part of God's plan for me. I made a pledge to focus less on members of the opposite sex. Knowing my will power or lack there of, maybe this is part of my healing. Seven weeks is a significant amount of time to make a conscious change. To change 'the tapes' so to speak that replay in your head.

More importantly, these seven Saturdays and Sundays as well, not to mention, most of the weekdays, have provided me silence and space. I can not only think clearer, but I am more reflective. I can see the God in me, because of the silence I have allowed myself to experience. I do not remember being bored, or even sad. Introspective, yes, but not bored or sad. I love my friends and even thought about hanging out with them, but I did not really miss them per se. I would have hung with them if something came up, but did not have an urge to force the issue. You see, it's in my silence that I find myself. It is the silence, that allows me to hear the whispers of God.

Yesterday I completed the Hot Chocolate 5K race. My time was 58 mins, 17 sec. Considering I did not train and I am not a runner, this was an awesome feat for me. More importantly, the person who told me about the race and encouraged me to sign up, did not end up participating due to a registration discrepancy. When she first told me she would not be participating, I thought how hard it might be running alone. I thought about how I was planning on meeting up before the race and having someone to talk to afterwards. But such is life. While running with the 25,000+ people, I could not help but feel as though I was not only a part of something, but how comfortable I felt being in the midst of a bunch of people I did not know. I was not alone. I did not feel lonely. I felt strong and empowered. I especially felt good, knowing I had gotten myself there and found my way back home without having anyone cheer me on, or drop me off or pick me up. I was my own cheerleader. I provided my own mode of transportation. And I hosted my own post race 'festivities' (I treated myself to a cozy night at home).

My faith has brought me thus far, and my faith will continue to move me to a better plateau. My faith that everything will be alright, that I'm okay by myself. I have faith that I am not missing anything significant. It is faith that pleases the Lord. I am at peace because I know what He has allowed me to experience previously. Today my pastor's sermon spoke on walking by faith, not by sight. Although I am blind to the future, my past gives me a point of reference to sustain me until my future becomes my present.

And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:6

Soldier For Love

I just ended a hour-plus long conversation with my favorite cousin. He lives in Maryland and although we don't talk every week (or month for that matter) we always connect as if it's only been a couple of hours since our last chat. We discuss everything. Our favorite and most popular topic is relationships. We love hearing each other's interpretation of things and providing advice and encouragement when needed. Point blank, it's always a good talk.

Usually he gives me an update on an ex-boyfriend of mine who is one of his oldest friends. We ended on a sour note. Essentially he got freaked out about how serious the relationship was growing, we had an uncomfortable and heated discussion, then after two days of no communication from either party, he sent an e-mail to break up with me. I know, a real class act. Anyway, anyone who was around me at that time would tell you that I was heartbroken, angry and depressed. But I never again contacted him beyond our last discussion.

Every time my cousin and I speak about the ex, he reveals their personal conversations about the subject (that's my cousin, that's how we roll). The nuts and bolts is, dude misses me and realizes that he messed up. After the tumultuous relationship that followed, he would confide in my cousin that he and I never really had any issues, that he was immature and scared and that he would love to get back what we had. Here's the problem (for him, not me) he will not even call me now. Why you ask? Because he is embarrassed at his lack of maturation. He feels shame for letting a 'good thing' go. He feels foolish for being a jerk to someone who was good to him. So although I hold not one grudge against him, his own guilt won't allow him to even encounter me on Facebook or by phone. The truth of the matter, I think he would be a cool friend. That is why I liked him in the first place, his sense of humor and good conversation.

The lesson I would like to pass on, you can cuss people out until you are blue in the face. You can slash tires, come up to someone's workplace, stalk or harass them. But as a good girlfriend of mine, who is a practicing Christian has said, it's not your battle. If you hand it over to God, he will take care of you and the situation better than anything you could dream of or imagine. I could have fussed him and made the issue bigger than it was, but I would have come across looking not only foolish, but as if I cared. Although I did care, he didn't need to know that. Now he is the one still feeling uncomfortable nearly three years after the fact. Now he can't face me. I love how the tables turn. Luke 20:43

Update...

Okay, my diet from men is working. I'm getting better by the minute. Today, I only had man-crush-thoughts a few times. I was really proud of myself. Now mind you, I could hardly look any of them in the eye. That will come later. For the time being I don't want any of them to 'glamour' me like the vampires do to the humans on True Blood. It sounds crazy but that's how I feel. I have to keep my encounters brief, even with strangers. Keep praying for your girl. I'm trying to stay true to my promise.

Girls just wanna have fun.

So as I mentioned, my girlfriend was in town this week. She stayed with me for five nights and six days. I must tell you I was a little apprehensive at first. Of course she would be welcomed in my home, but I could not help but think of previous girls' trips, roommate situations and anything involving me and broads. They rarely, if ever ended well. Now don't get me wrong. I take full responsibility considering I am the common denominator of each scenario (cue the 'who me face?'). But again, there is always a toss up as to how these close encounters of the vagina-kind will end.

We, however, had a great time. I say that, not in surprise, but with contentment and a little pride. It tells me, I am not the super micro-managing, control freak and bossy dictator I have been led to believe. I can be easy-going and relaxed. But I think I have finally found the key. I work better with those that take control. People that answer your questions, before you ask them. Women that are two steps ahead of your thinking process; so you don't have to think. In essence, I get along better, or rather easier with those who are the way people describe me to be. If not, those that are secure or comfortable enough not to mind my 'suggestions'. For instance my house guest was/is very self-sufficient. She was able to make her way around town, while I was at work.

I find myself being apologetic and self-conscious of my actions, tones and/or suggestions. But I don't want to be. I want to continue to strive to become an even better person, but I don't want to 'lose my luster'. I do not want to dictate where we go or what we do. But when it comes time to do things, I end up being the person to coordinate the activities. I guess if I just sit back and let nature take it's course, a leader will organically emerge. But what if it doesn't? What if we spend time, asking the who, what, when, where and why and not acting? What if we all spent so much time trying not to step on each other's feet that no one ever got around to walking or dancing? What if we sat around with a great idea that never came to fruition?

I have been 'bossy' all of my life, not to everyone or to every situation, but it has been there. The older I get the more it is important that I get things going. Or rather 'keep the party going'. The truth is, I don't want to miss a thing (cue the Aerosmith music). I hate to imagine missing a great concert or show, because I am waiting on others to decide when and what they are going to do. The longer I live the more I am convinced that I want LIFE. Active living gives me a reason to live more actively.

As I told my friend Nicole, I 'don't like people in my space'. The truth is, I love to share common and peaceful space with others. I do not like to share space where I have to alter who I am. I do not want those in my space that will not respect the piece of MJ real estate I am allowing them to enter and reside in 'rent free'. When I say space, I am speaking literally AND figuratively. My space, meaning my life. You can come in, but you have to respect the 'house rules'. The 'house' being me.

I told my girl she is welcome to come back any time, and I mean that. She really is, because it was fun having her around. If you ask my 3 college roommates, my cousin, my mom and dad, they may have a completely different story. They were all roommates of sorts. But I am older and wiser. I am more forgiving and less dramatic about life. I know the importance of getting along and being a good friend. I still have far to go, but at least now I am moving in the right direction.

It's a muscle, you have to work it.

This week I had a house guest from Brooklyn, NY. She had come to town, so that we could go to the Oprah show, for which she scored two tickets. She got in Monday evening and I dropped her off at the airport this morning. I am usually leery about people in my space, but she was a very good house guest. I enjoyed her company. My friend is a good and easygoing conversationalist. As you know, I love to gab myself, so you can imagine the conversations. Also a single woman, she has a lot on her mind regarding men as I do. One of the things we both discussed, was our desire to be completely single this season. Meaning, not just being single, but actively embracing it. I know, I know, I'm always talking about dating and such, but I really need an absolute break. My girl discussed an idea of a popular Christian family she follows. The notion is, to not think about men, don't see them in any other way than them just being men. The goal is to only have your sights on Jesus. Which of course means thinking of His goodness, being grateful for what you have, keeping your thoughts on humanity, your friends and family.

This seemed easy enough. I would use this time to be reflective. I would not concern myself with things I cannot control. Let me be the first to tell you, this is hard. I did not realize how often I think of men. Boyfriends of the past, boyfriends in my dreams, not to mention all potential husbands. It occurred to me in the few days I have tried this experiment, that all I do is think about men, marriage and kids. Every man I encounter, I am picturing them as my husband. Okay, not every man, but every decent man. I think to myself, is this whom God has for me? Is this how I will meet my husband? At the grocery store? I envision, for a hot minute that I am married to the stranger on the bus, or the policeman writing tickets, even the FedEx brotha.

Now that I am consciously making an effort not to do this, I realize how hard it is. I am trying my best to keep my eyes on the real prize. I pray it will get easier. Regardless, this is a good exercise of discipline and faithfulness.

Day 1-Gratitude

It is 7:35 a.m. I have been up since about 5:30 a.m. I am restless, but tired, bored and weak, annoyed and needy. Yes, it is that time AGAIN. But that is not the only thing, I think I would feel these emotions anyway. I feel blue. I feel blah. The problem with the blues is, amongst other things, I have no energy. I want to get out, I have an urge to do something, but I have no motivation. I want to do something, but not alone. The people I could call, I do not want to be bothered with, those I do call, do not want to be bothered with me or have plans. So here I am, skipping church (mistake) and not going to bootcamp (another mistake). I am supposed to be going to visit Nicole's friend's church today, that will be my church today. My bootcamp class takes place out west today and I do not feel like getting lost. I sent my instructor a text to see if we could carpool, he did not res

The next day (Monday, today the 11th)...okay, my next word was going to be respond, but in the middle of typing that message, my instructor did call and offered to pick me up in about 15-20 minutes. I had not picked up my computer since. The moral of the story is, I had a great day! Once I got my butt out of the bed, took a shower, washed my hair and got dressed (yes, all in 20 minutes) I felt better. Prior to that, I was the guest of honor at my own pity party and hated every minute of it. Exercise is a great way to rejuvenate yourself. Especially when your instructor has you pushing his Ford Excursion as part of your training. I felt strong again. I felt happy again.

Another One Bites the Dust

So as some of you might know by now, Mr. Ghana is now Mr. Gone-a! Although he was cute and had some positive points, our relationship's demise came down to one redundant and torturous issue: HIS HOMEWORK! That's right, his homework is the reason we have not spoken since Tuesday, Sept. 21st.

I did not talk about it much, because I really was not sure how I wanted to express my discomfort and irritation doing this for him, but now who cares? It started out innocently enough, he was overwhelmed with assignments for his class and asked if I could answer some discussion questions. My face must have said everything, because he started back-peddling and said I did not have to, but in a guilt-ridden sort of way. Me, trying to be the supporting girlfriend broke down and agreed to do it. I mean, I'm trying to be less 'selfish', in an effort to have a healthy, fulfilling relationship that will lead to marriage and kids one day. Plus, he promised this would not be a common occurrence. That was about 8 assignments ago!

This knee-gro, after an argument on the subject, said that as his girlfriend, I am 'supposed to help' him. That if I 'call myself his girlfriend' I should be willing to do this, especially if he is sacrificing doing his schoolwork to work for pay (he is a cab driver). According to him, when he makes money I benefit, so this should not be a problem.

The straw that broke this camel's back was Rip Van Winkle. He is taking an English/Literature/Writing (I don't exactly know which) class this semester. The teacher is spending a major portion of the semester focusing on Rip Van Winkle (it's community college). I have not only discussed this story with him, I have pulled it up on the internet so he too could read it, I typed up a summary of my opinion of the story (according to him just so he could have my thoughts on paper if he needed to review again later). So you can imagine how I felt when, while enjoying a nice brisk lakefront walk on a beautiful Sunday with my girl, I get a call saying he will meet me on 39th and LSD to scoop us up so that he may give me his assignment to 'finish' for him. It was not until I reached home that I realized this dude had only written about a paragraph, if that! Are you serious! More upsetting is the fact that earlier in the day you asked me to provide you with a wake-up call for your 2-3 hour nap. So you mean, you're napping, knowing full-well you have this 3-page paper due the next day? His response, a cabby friend called un-expectantly to let him know of a conference in town that should drum up a lot of business, meaning some good money was to be made. He had planned on doing the work, but could not pass up this opportunity.

The fact that it was Sunday, my chill day, made me nearly spit fire in irritation and anger! That little accent had officially lost all cuteness. But I'm not done. The break-up occurred when he asked me to read yet another Rip Van Winkle paper that he wrote, this time at my leisure. At my leisure to me translated to mean, when I finish polishing my toes and maybe tomorrow during my lunch break. Well to him, in what I believe to be an effort to avoid saying the words I need your help, it meant proofread and make any necessary corrections for my 8am class tomorrow. I received a call bright an early. He wanted to know if I had a chance to do this. 'No', was my response. I explained how I did not know he wanted me to proof it, but rather read it to give him my thoughts on the work he had done. Furthermore, I asked him to make sure in the future to say specifically what he needed of me to ensure I actually do it. This irritated the mess out of him. In his opinion, by saying read it at my leisure, I should have picked up on the implication that he needed my help. Which he added I am so opposed to doing. This of course angered me. I told him I would try to get it done before work, but never looked at it and never called him again.

He called me the next day to see if I still needed his help with my father's will signing ceremony. I said no, that I had someone who could fill in for him. We haven't spoken since. Neither has called the other and I am here to tell you, I feel just fine. My friend's mother told me recently that my current desires to settle down, get married and have children dictates that I have little, if any, time to mess around with men who aren't on my level. When I described him to her, she said "so he is not where you are...you don't have time to waste." I told her I would give him about 3-6 months to see how I felt, to which she said that was too long. Well his ass didn't make it that far anyway. I feel completely indifferent and have not looked back since.

In conclusion, here's the silver lining. The blessing is, I just met someone new last night on my way to church. We're supposed to have dinner plans next Wednesday when he returns from his business trip. You know what they say, when one door closes, God either opens a new door, opens a window, or just tears the damn roof off!

Say Ms. Lady, can you spare a dime?

Some of you may know I am walking in the AIDS Run & Walk Chicago 2010 this Saturday. Let me tell you, fundraising can be fun, but it is a real b*tch! You would be surprised how many 'friends' have avoided me like the black plague. People I can get on the phone at anytime, now do not answer their phone or call me back. I had an ex-boyfriend promise me he would donate, but has since fallen off the face of the planet. Another guy who said yes to donating, has disappeared as well. Then there are those who avoid the topic period. If they contact me, it's about everything but my walk or that text message they know they got! My favorite was an ex co-worker who commented 'Awesome!' on my Facebook page after I posted how much money I had raised, but it took about 1-2 days to reply to my response asking if this meant she too would donate. She said she would see what she could do. Trust me, I know people are on a budget, hell I am! But when it comes to money, you really get to see people. Not to say anyone is bad or not a friend, but money can make people weird and uneasy. For this reason, I give props to fundraisers who make this their career. My father's friend, who makes a living this way (writing for grants and fundraising- essentially asking for money) told me the hardest part is just simply asking. She could not have spoken anything closer to the truth. I really take my hat off to her, because this can be humiliating, annoying and absolutely uncomfortable. But it's for a good cause, so that's what keeps me motivated. That and my penchant for self-challenging competition. So far I have raised $1656! My goal is $2500. But I am so geeked about what I have collected, you cannot tell I'm about $900 away from it. If you should decide to donate, my page is: http://afc.aidschicago.org/netcommunity/maya.

Time Out

So this week I challenged myself to avoid Facebook at all costs. The only exception being if I receive an alert on my phone that a message/comment has been sent to me. Anything else is out of the question. From Monday until today, I have not perused my homepage to see what everyone is up to. Or stalked unsuspecting friends of friends of friends. I have in total, received about three notices. They were random things such as, someone commenting on a photo I commented on months ago.

I must admit this was a real challenge for me. When I turn on my computer, FB is where I go immediately. I go there whether I have a reason or not. It was getting a little out of control. I had been threatening to put myself on punishment for sometime now. But never had the courage. So what prompted my last post to be: I am on hiatus. (or something of the nature, I really do not remember verbatim)? An old family friend.

This person has been in my life, before I can remember. We have only been intimate once, and even that was years and years into our 'friendship'. This person, though I love him, is a bit of a playboy (trying to use nice words here). I used to have a huge crush on him, to the point I just knew we would be married. As friends we have talked about all types of girls he's dated and women he has had. But recently he has met and began a relationship with one girl in particular. They have been together for a year now. I know this because this week he posted pictures of them together celebrating their anniversary.

I cannot tell you why seeing this had me enraged, but I was. Maybe it's the fact that this ninja has never taken me ANYWHERE! With the exception of one movie when I was 19, we have never dated. Although he has confessed to loving me (always in past tense terms). I have met him out and he would not even buy me a drink! Now if you ask him, his memory is so completely different. The story always has me looking like a cold b*tch, who he would have settled down with if only I did not have a boyfriend when he was ready. But I digress.

I could not stop looking at these pictures of this seemingly happy couple, but it was making me more and more jealous, irritated and sad. Maybe the reason my forehead instinctively crinkled was because awhile back I had suggested we have a slumber party (I know, I know...but I really meant platonic), he was game, but said (loose quote): 'let me come up with something first, I don't want _____ to find out. 'Cause she ain't having that.' My girlfriend, in friendly girl you done lost ya damn mind anger was like, he cares about her, he just wants some ass from you.

Needless to say I do believe I am over him. I do not feel an attraction to him, even before my girl broke it down. I realize he is no longer attractive to me. I mean physically as well as...well everything else. I do not want a whore for a boyfriend/husband. I do not want to take the kind of 'cute' pictures with someone that has everyone on FB saying 'aaawww', but be totally ignorant to the fact he still is open to opportunities with other women. This friend has called to tell me he has had dreams about me, but on FB these two lovebirds are sickening with their baby, I love you so much or every minute with you brings me closer to eternity (or some bullshit!). Whatever it is, the point I take away from all of this is, why is she better than me?? And whenever MJ starts to doubt herself, Houston we have a gatdamn problem!!

My solution: no Facebook for an entire week. You know what, I actually feel good and strong. My mind is clear too. It's good not hearing everyone's thoughts all damn day! It reminds me of the Jim Carey movie, Bruce Almighty, where he gets to be God for awhile. He soon realizes how hard it is to concentrate when you have people all over the world praying to you incessantly everyday all day. That is exactly what Facebook has become to me. Random people with random-ass thoughts. The ridiculous part is, I have gotten to the point where these 'thoughts' have annoyed me, caused me to snoop and innocently stalk, made me mad, or just caused me to doubt myself. That's a problem!

How long will I be without FB? I have no idea, but I will never again look at it the same.

Shhh...what's that noise??

This morning I heard a sound I had not heard in months. A slow and steady hissing that woke me from my sleep. In my early morning confusion I had a hard time making out what this sound was. Then as I pulled my four blankets and sheet tighter around my neck and feet, it occurred to me, the HEAT is on!!! Winter is back! As I was wrapped in my human burrito, a smile came to my face. Here we go again. Stay warm ladies and gentlemen!

The Will Signing Ceremony

Tonight after work, my friend Nicole and I met my dad at his friend's house to authenticate and sign his will. My dad's friend is a recent graduate of law school, who was kind enough to draw up some legally binding paperwork to serve as my dad's last will and testament. After the paperwork was signed, we popped champaign and chatted about music.

Nicole drove my dad home and me to my car, both located in Hyde Park. On my journey home, I noticed that I missed a call. It was my dad. I immediately called him back, because I did not know if he needed something urgent, since we had just left him. Well he did. He asks me if I'm still with Nicole. I replied, 'no'. He proceeds to tell me if I talk to Nicole, to see if she found some BLUE pills in her back seat. In my mind I was thinking...could he be talking about...nooo. YES!! My 79-year-old father proceeds to tell me how he had his Viagra pills in his pocket, but now could not find them, so he assumed they fell out. What the hell is going on?! I tell him how embarrassing it is to even ask her this and that the incident has even happened. His only concern, is that the pills are expensive and he wants them back. Questions that immediately run through my mind in a matter of seconds:

1. Why the hell did you bring Viagra to a Will Signing Ceremony!!???

2. Why are the pills lose in your pocket!!??

Laughing, Nicole told me she did find the pills and that I can pick them up along with a bag that I left (containing completely sensible things might I add) tomorrow.

Things to do list:

1. Pick up some groceries.

2. Schedule an appointment for my oil change.

3. Call a couple of friends.

4. Pick up my dad's Viagra!

I'd Like to Cancel My Appointment Please...

This morning for the third time in a row, I have canceled my annual pap smear. Although it was due in May, I have been too busy traveling and entertaining myself to go. Around July I decided enough was enough, I needed to make an appointment. From then on, I have managed to do any and everything, besides having my 'lady' (to use Mr. Ghana's term) checked out. For someone who loves going to the doctor, I could not figure this out. Why has my interest in my health vanished? What I love about the Holy Spirit is, things will be revealed to you, if you just listen.

I was referred to this doctor by a minister at church, who, from time to time has served as my spiritual advisor of sorts. I was having infinite trouble with my boyfriend at the time and was extremely and constantly depressed. I would cry all the time and stayed in a regular funk. In addition to dealing with him, I had a low-paying job that I absolutely HATED. I was miserable. Yet and still, I wanted a baby (I know, go figure huh) and I needed to see if there was any hope in curing me of this blue haze that surrounded me. The gynecologist was Black, female and easy to talk to, she was and is a good doctor.

On my first visit, I climbed on the table semi-nude and waited patiently for her to enter. When she did, I saw a woman who fit my minister's description. Within about five minutes of her asking me why I came to visit, tearfully I explained that I was so sad and cried all of the time. I asked if my hormones were alright and if I could have a baby. I told her I was arguing with my boyfriend a lot and needed something to balance my moods but would not make me a zombie. She gave me this hormone cream that you apply to your inner thighs. I don't know if it worked or if I thought it worked, but in time I realized, it wasn't me, it was that damn boyfriend and job of mine! I stopped using the cream, especially since it had to be specially ordered from a small pharmacy in Kentucky, costing me over $100 a pop!

Anyway, I digress, it occurred to me that the reason I do not want to go there, is on my first or second visit (I can't remember), while paying my co-pay before leaving I felt someone staring at me. When I looked up to my left, it was a girl that attended the same college as I. We were not friends by any means. But I managed to hit her with a weak smile and accompanying 'hi'. She continued to stare at me, something her and her 'crew' (I'll get into the crew part on another posting) used to do to me in college. The blank, curious, but irritated stare. I paid and left.

You cannot convince me that my file was not looked over upon my departure. Although I continued to visit the doctor, I found myself hoping she would not be there. I caught myself trying to put together 'decent' clothes just for a visit to the gynecologist! So today, after canceling for what I hope is my last time, I have made the decision not to go back there again. If the thought of seeing her gives me more anxiety than being naked in a cold room, with my feet up in stirrups, while someone physically touches my cervix with their finger, it's officially time to consider another medical facility. Anyone know of a good gynecologist with decent hours to match?

The Naomi Files

After leaving my friend's house and retiring to my bed last night, I was able to catch the Oprah interview with Naomi Campbell. The show was a rerun, but I have never seen it. I had heard about the episode and wanted to catch the interview. Oprah of course probed her about her anger issues and violence against others. Here's the deal, Naomi has a birthday about four days before mine. I am not Ms. Cleo, but I do believe that some individuals born around the same time, share some personality traits. I so can relate to some of her foolishness. She cried throughout the entire show. At one point Oprah asks why she was crying, to which Naomi responds: "I don't know." Oh have I been there! Upset, sad, angry and potentially violent. Seeing red, exploding and immediately feeling ridiculous. I appreciate her honesty and vulnerability. You cannot go on the Oprah show and think you will run the interview. That is not going to happen. You will humble yourself or be humbled. It was good to see Naomi, because her actions mirrored some of mine. I can relate to the string of boyfriends and craziness. I pray for her and pray for myself to continue to overcome some of my anger demons. It is a long, slow uphill battle to stop being a control freak. It is a hard road towards being able to let go. That is why a few days ago I blogged about me driving patiently behind a slow motorist. It may not seem like much, but I have to celebrate my sanity. I have to embrace my inner peace. I have to hold tight to patience. Because truth be told, it does not come easy to me. I have always been a ball of fire, even as a child. My continuous maturation involves me turning the fire down, without putting it out.

Maya the Grouch!

I had one of those days today. Everything kind of irked me. The good news is, nothing work related. The bad news, everything else. I'm feeling like I want people to care and contact me, but I don't want to be bothered, all at the same time. It is crazy. However, the older I get, I understand this about myself and can try to nip it in the bud. So instead of calling people to pick fights about how unfair and selfish they are, I just isolate myself. It keeps me from ending even more friendships. Alas, such is life. I will try to get some sleep tonight and see what tomorrow brings.

Too Good Tuesday

Three amazing things occurred today that I must share.

1. Although the driver in front of me was giving his passenger a personal tour of Woodlawn today, driving ridiculously slowly and staying waaayyy too long at stop signs, I did not blow my horn. I did not even dramatically swerve in front of him. Not a glare was made toward the man. I just relaxed and kept his uncomfortable pace. I exhibited patience.

2. In Hyde Park Produce I put back the pint of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie, and opted instead to get the chips and salsa. It is fast approaching that special ladies' time of the month for me and the chocolate would put my spirit at ease. But since I'm trying to lose 5-10lbs, every little bit counts.

3. Finally, while approaching the gate leading to my building, hands saddled down with bags of groceries, a young brotha asks if I need help. I said no thank you and then thank you again. He didn't try to holla, or just walk past me, but instinctively asked if I needed help. Beautiful and amazing!

'Crazy Lady' on the #6 Jackson Park Express

This morning I took the #6 bus to downtown. Upon stepping on to the bus, I noticed a woman sitting in the seats facing inward, directly behind the bus driver. The fact that she was talking loudly and incessantly was overshadowed by the fact that she was talking to herself. Her top-of-the-morning gibberish was noticeably unwelcome by the Monday-morning commuters. It was not even 7:30am. I would bet most, if not all of us were annoyed by the fact that Monday morning had greeted us too soon, yet again. But in the spirit of big city urbanites everywhere, we ignored her and read our books, magazines and newspapers, or turned up the volume on our iPods. Most would agree in describing the woman as crazy.

But before you go feeling sorry for her and shaking your head in pity, hear this. By the time we reached downtown, the bus driver looks in his rearview mirror and says in an exhausted, yet authoritative tone: Ma'am? The woman in a meek voice: yes? She starts talking some more, but he interjects. This time, he turns around in his seat. Ma'am, come on, you're disturbing the people! Come on now! She then responds, wait for it...okay. And continues to talk, but substantially lowers her voice to a nearly inaudible whisper. So the question being, how crazy was she really? Was she even crazy at all? Maybe she was just obnoxious. I am caught talking to myself all the time. How crazy are crazy people? I have always asserted the belief that your average, homeless 'crazy' person, may have just 'checked out'. Now don't get me wrong, more often than not, the people we encounter on the street, out in public, are certifiably mentally ill. Prayer and medical attention is definitely needed in these cases. But still I often wonder, how many of the marginalized 'crazies' have just become fed up with holding on? I can tell you I have come close to losing it on many of occasions myself. Some might say I have even succeeded a time or two. What keeps us 'normal' people together? How close are any of us from walking down the street with no care in the world of our behavior or who is watching? How thin is the line between sanity and insanity? No matter how crazy we had all classified her in our minds, she wasn't that crazy. She knew what the bus driver was talking about and responded reasonably. Was she even crazy at all? Or just tired of conforming to sanity and the social norms associated with being 'sane'?

My Thoughts on Fantasia

I am truly a Fantasia fan. I have always liked her and enjoyed her singing. I even had the pleasure of seeing her perform on Broadway in the Color Purple. So of course I was upset to hear she had attempted to take her own life. I am against suicide. It is cowardly and short-sighted. What really bothers me more than how people view the whole incident, is for whom she did this for. She met the man, Antwaun Cook, at the T-Mobile store where he was a sales rep. This seems to not bother anyone, but me. Every time, I express how she shouldn't have been slumming it in the first place, people get all, Well she's not that bright or That may be who she's comfortable with or What's wrong with that?. Okay, do I have to say it people? Him working at T-Mobile is not the issue. Him being married and working at T-Mobile is the deadly (no pun intended) combination. He is married, still living with the woman and the ninja works at T-Mobile. That's the damn problem! What are the brotha's redeeming qualities? What did he bring to the table? Then people say maybe it was the bedroom action. But that constitutes a fling, not a a less-than-a-year romance that results in an attempted suicide.

Women, all of us, need to stop slumming it! Stop trying to see the good in EVERYBODY. I am speaking from my own foolish experiences. Stop trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents! Sometimes, all you have is 15 friggin' cents! Take it for what it is, but whatever you do, DO NOT get caught up. I have learned this the hard way. I have dated the fat, the broke, the old, the weird, the dumb, the incarcerated (yes, it's true), the ho, the a$$hole and the all-around loser. Each time, I wanted it to work, because deep down I needed it to work. But when it didn't, I was left thinking I could have spent my time with someone more attractive, more active, more fun, or maybe someone in better shape, with a better job or just more appealing. If it wasn't going to last, I would have rather spent the short time with someone that was on my level (whether perceived or otherwise). Maybe the arguments would not have been so hurtful if they were with someone I thought was cuter. Or the breakup not as bad if I did not have that agonizing feeling of I could have pulled better than him. As someone whose 30th birthday came upon them faster than expected, I wish every woman would be more attentive to what they really want. Trust that God will provide it, and be patient while waiting. It's okay to have a 'snack' in between, but make sure that person isn't putting you in a position where you become more comfortable with dealing with those less than what you want. In other words, stop wasting precious time. Do not get comfortable and lose yourself with someone you should have spotted from the beginning as a 'snack', not your full meal.

Fantasia nearly ended her life, leaving her daughter to be motherless in a cold world, for some dude she met at the T-Mobile store. Am I the only one that thinks that's straight b.s.???

Somewhere, Out There

I have a confession. This is really hard for me to talk about or say, but I must come clean. I have a bit of a problem at my house. My issue is, the building has become infested with mice. That's right, Fifel is in the house! My first encounter was with a baby mouse several months ago. He (or she) was sitting on top of my garbage when I lifted the lid to throw away my trash. I screamed and went one way, he (or she) screamed and went the other. I left the house immediately and did not return for several hours. My life has not been the same since. I could go into details about previous mouse incidents, but they freak me out and leave me paranoid and terrified, so I won't. However, there is victory in every scenario. Today when I got home, I saw from the left corner of my eye, a creature. Yes, there he was, Fifel (Mr. Ghana affectionately calls them 'my little friends'). The good news was he was dead (although that did not stop me from screaming). The bad news: somebody had to get him up and dispose of the body. I could barely look at him, let alone scoop him up without screaming.

I called Mr. Ghana who was working and not paying me the kind of attention I needed (wanted). He couldn't stop work and come over to handle the situation like I asked. It would have taken at least an hour to get to my side of town from where he was. He instructed me to be confident and brave; I needed to get a broom and sweep him up. How was this going to work? There was this little creature with black eyes appearing dead, but was he? Maybe he was the same mouse who was sitting in the dark on my area rug in the kitchen when I got home last night. Perhaps when I threw my cowgirl-heeled shoe (the ones I picked up in Cannes) at him, he was hit in the head. Instead of staying awake until the swelling went down, he went to sleep with what turned out to be a severe and fatal concussion. Whatever the case I was grateful I did not meet him moving around. I did end up pulling my courage together today. I scooped him up and put him in a bag, which I tied up and put with the big garbage I will be taking out first thing tomorrow (I was too lazy to take him to the dumpster). The moral of the story: big girls have to take out their own trash sometimes.

Tastes Like Chicken

Grāpple

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A four pack of Grāpples on a supermarket stand in S. San Francisco, United States.

Grāpple (pronounced /ˈɡreɪpəl/ GRAY-pəl) is the registered brand name for a commercially marketed brand of Fuji or Gala apple that has been specially treated to make the flesh taste like a grape. The product is created via a patent-pending liquid infusion process which includes concentrated natural and artificial grape flavor and water as its primary ingredients.^[1] Contrary to what the name implies, it is an externally flavored fruit product, not a true hybrid of two fruits.^[2] Although there is some controversy as to whether the Grāpple is simply soaked in grape juice^{[citation needed]}, Grāpple sales have been increasing over the past decade.^{[citation needed}

Is there really a need for this? Is this for people who love the taste of grapes, but don't feel like they're getting the crunch obtained only by taking a bite out of an apple?

Is it Friday yet?

I have to stop myself from praying for and forcing Friday, and the weekend in general. Whether we want to admit it or not, the more you hope and wish for the weekend to come, the less you spend time in the present. The less you spend time in the present the faster your life will pass you by. If your current age came around extremely quick, ask yourself, how much time your mind spent counting down the days to your last vacation. How often do you say, "I can't wait for this, or that"? Are we inadvertently rushing our lives away by being so consumed with the future? I used to catch myself saying, "I can't wait until my trip" or "I can't wait until 5pm Friday". I wanted the time to speed up to get to my chosen activity or day/date, however, slow down so that I could thoroughly enjoy it once reached. The problem is, the fun always goes by too fast. So in an attempt to slow down that time, I have learned not to rush my not-so-much fun time. On Wednesday at work, I take it for what it is, just Wednesday, another day. If I feel the desire to do something, I just do it. On Thursday, I may go to hear music with my father at Millennium Park. On Tuesday, I attended a movie premier with my girl. This gave us an opportunity to have drinks, dinner and see a movie in the middle of the work week. A few weeks ago, we attended a party hosted by Moet. These activities increase our 'play time'. They make the weekend come sooner. I don't want my life to pass me by; I want to enjoy every moment of it while I can. So I do. I really make a point of trying to take it one day at a time. Do you?

Napturally Pleased

So yesterday was my first day at work with my new hair. The verdict is...everyone loved it! Those who I assumed didn't, said nothing, which is fine with me. I was so happy. I didn't want to here anything negative or have to invest in a a hair hat (i.e. wig). I posted pictures of my hair, but I am having a hard time getting them to stay. I will talk to my tech-goddess girlfriend (Toni) to see what the deal is. Please be patient.

My Big Chop!

So I finally cut my hair. I am truly a 'natural hair' girl. I am so excited, but still nervous about work tomorrow. I think it is feminine enough where there should not be a problem. I will make sure to have jewelry and a full face the whole time. I think it really looks cute and the cut was very liberating. I did not expect to feel so free. I like it and look forward to the growth process. As my hairdresser said: 'that was the hard part!'

...and baby makes three.

One of my longtime girlfriends (we'll refer to her as Tizzle) is due to deliver her baby soon, in a matter of weeks, two to be exact. I am so very happy for her and her man. I am excited about and for the baby and welcome her entrance into the world. She is already truly blessed to have wonderful, thoughtful and kind parents. With this said, I know how motherhood changes EVERYTHING. I know that Tizzle and I will no longer be able to just call each other up on a whim to get Italian ice and visit the thrift store. Me holding Tizzle's full attention during a phone conversation, is just days away from being almost completely nonexistent. As a mother, she will not be able to cater to me as she used to, for this I am mature enough to accept and understand. It's one of the things I love about all of my girlfriends with kids, they are ALL great mothers. I'm not saying that to just say something, I am truly being honest when I say each one is AWESOME. I would not stand for anything less from my friends. So for this reason, I took Tizzle on a date to mark our last non-mommy days together. We went to Carnivale, an upscale Latin/Caribbean restaurant downtown. The ambiance was beautiful; we had a good time. I slightly mourn the loss of our single girl relationship, but my love for her and the baby overshadow any ill feelings.

Tizzle marks yet another girlfriend who has taken the leap to parenthood and/or marriage. My number of single, ride or die friends is slowly, but surely dwindling down. I have six left. Now don't get me wrong I encourage and pray that ALL of my friends will have the relationships and/or family life they desire. My-My loves the kids! But the more people start taking on new lives, my instinct is that I'm somehow lacking or not keeping up with what is appropriate for a woman my age. Every breakup, every single night spent alone has me feeling my time is slipping away. I never want to hold my friends back and no one could/would accuse me of being a 'hater'. But sometimes your friends can be a good gage of what's expected of you. I am happy for the choices I've made in my life and would not trade anything. One thing I feel I was just getting the hang of was, grown-up kickin' it. Although I have always traveled, I feel as though I'm just getting the hang of TRAVELING. You know, leaving the country, meeting up with friends in different cities, scheduling and coordinating flights to coincide with parties and making it back to work on Monday like nothing ever happened. Yeah that type of grown a$$ woman kickin' it with my friends. Even within the city, going to each other's house to sip wine and talk $hit. Enjoying festivals that we just happened upon. I know what you're thinking, that I'm being obnoxious. That nothing THAT major is going to change, but unless you have been in my shoes, you would not understand. Especially if you're a mother and/or wife. You do not understand how hard it is to coordinate a simple dinner date. You cannot realize the sinking feeling when at the 11th hour you inform me that you cannot attend whatever event because your babysitter canceled. Or your husband forgot about your (our) plans, even though we made them and you apparently told him about a month ago. You don't know how hard it is to try to have a conversation on the phone and you keep talking to a whiny toddler or (in my sister's case) stop mid-sentence to cuss out and threaten the lives of your offsprings. You probably have forgotten how it feels to have your girl, upon hearing your request for time, tell you she has to talk to 'him' first to see what he has planned. And you probably have a hard time understanding how uncomfortable it is to be forced to interact with your husband/boyfriend/baby's father after hearing such glowing reviews of him. That's sarcasm, because we both know how many times we've discussed what a complete a$$hole he can be! But somehow in his presence I have to pretend I know none of these things. Yeah, reach back into your memory banks...

With all that said, I cannot wait for my turn!!! One day soon I hope to see you on the 'other side'...of marriage and mommy-hood.

The Great Stick Up!

My neighbors across the hall, God bless them, they are typically nice, neighborly and quiet. They are a mother and daughter. The ONLY real issue I have with them is they keep their shoes outside of their apartment. This morning I counted 7 pairs! There were flip flops, sandals, galoshes and sneakers. Now as I have mentioned previously, the building is old and has no air conditioner. So in the summertime, the hallway windows are opened, but it's still muggy and hot and the shoes make it funky. They must notice this as well, because recently a Stick Up air freshener was stuck to the door frame outside of the apartment. If that wasn't enough, the other day as I was leaving out and headed to the second landing, I heard someone open their apartment door and wildly spray air freshener outside the door. When the mother looked down and I looked up, she hurriedly went back in and slammed the door.

Here's my issue, you know the shoes are funky, you try everything in your power to keep the smell down. Why don't you just take the shoes inside? I think it may be a one bedroom, so maybe they don't have enough space. But if by chance they do, and I think they can make space, why not bring the shoes in as you wear them? So tonight my Really?...Really?! award goes to my neighbors across the hall. Enjoy this vintage, 80s commercial for Stick Ups air fresheners.

That's What Friends Are For...

Per Oprah.com: Women are hardwired to crave close friendships, and these bonds can provide us with unique benefits. Here, a few things researchers have recently uncovered about the power of friendships.

The friendship effect: Mountains become molehills
How it works: In a study published in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, researchers asked participants to stand at the base of a steep hill and estimate how tough it would be to climb. Those standing with a friend gauged the ascent to be less steep compared with those who were alone.
What's more... The longer the study participants had known their friends, the more gentle they estimated the incline to be. (http://www.oprah.com/relationships/The-Hidden-Benefits-of-Friendship)

With that said, I have been quite ungrateful lately. I have spent so much time concerning myself with individuals and friends who have not called, answered my calls, texted, e-mailed, Facebook'ed, stopped by to visit or anything of the sort, that I forgot the friends who have. The friends who have listened to me whine, cry, holler and cuss. Those whose nerves I have stepped on, on so many occasions, but who have never turned their backs. Those I can give any random 'assignment' to, and they don't even flinch or question it. The friends who tell me things they would never share with another, simply because they know I will not judge or repeat it.

The past few weeks, months even, there have been two people I previously considered myself to be close with, who seemingly dropped off the planet. After unanswered or non-returned calls and texts, it occurred to me, I had been dismissed to some extent. I was no longer in these individuals' favor. I had offended or pissed each off in some way. I felt bad. With both, I speculated what I had done to cause this. In an effort to make things better I would call and invite them to different outings and such. Neither seemed interested or available.

I had begun to get sad. I have never been the type to have an abundance of friends. I have a hard time getting along with my familial peers (two cousins have deleted me from their Facebook pages), let alone people not related to me. I spend a decent amount of time completely alone. And I will admit, I sometimes find it hard to relate to others. When I do get close to someone, it never seems to last. My friendships and romantic relationships alike seem to burn bright and fast, before smoldering and finally fizzling. Since I am the common denominator of all of these relationships, my thought was, it's me.

In the midst of my pity party, a still, small voice said to me: stop complaining about the friends who aren't calling. You've got an assortment of friends who are calling! It is true. I have good friends who I have been active with, who I talk to all the time and who genuinely provide me with love, understanding and pure joy. So what is all the fuss about? In the words of Madea, via my best friend Antoine: learn to separate your friends into categories, you have your roots, your trunks, your branches and leaves. So in that spirit, here are some awesome friendly interactions I have had, the last few weeks:

I owe my best friend, nearly $500 which I am grateful I have it to give back. I am more grateful he gave it to me in the first place. Furthermore, he never sweated me about the repayment. Thank you

My good and 'old' friend Octavia, who just gave me my birthday gift last night, and as usual, it was perfect. Thank you for knowing me.

Nicole, my favorite 'ride or die chick'. She is the closet person in my life, whose life is the most like mine. Thank you

April, who is going through this natural hair transition with me. You keep me motivated. Thank you

Alexis, her sense of humor and intelligence is unmatched. Thank you

Tonisha, you are always so encouraging. Thank you

I can go on and on. This should be my focus, not mess.

Lady Rerun & Justin Case SafeAuto Commercial

I'm posting this because I cannot believe no one else finds this offensive and/or absolutely ridiculous. Oh crap! Really? Really girl?! And what's with the Michael Jackson impersonation? Who came up with this commercial? I don't want insurance from them! Your thoughts please...does this annoy/offend anyone else but me? Lady Rerun, humph.

The Jean-etics

My company's summer interns are great! I really love these kids. There are a couple of interns who are older, but it's the high school and college kids I love the most. They keep me up to date on the new lingo and even clothes. I had never heard of uniqlo, a.p.c. or nudie jeans before the interns. There are two young men in particular who love all things fashion. Once they even let me know that my purse was 'legit'. As boys, they of course adore jeans. In the case of the above mentioned, urban 'streetwear' to be exact.

This brings me to a hilarious (I thought it was funny) quick tutorial about a.p.c. jeans. This brand hails from France; the jeans run anywhere between $77-165. The New Standard jeans that the guys were discussing are typically $165 and can only be found in Barney's here in Chicago. These jeans are 100% raw selvedge denim, meaning they need special care. The jeans are designed to form fit to your body over time. For this reason you are not to wash them for at least 6 months. When you do decide to wash them, one of the ways the company suggests is to go out to the ocean with your jeans on, get out of the water and scrub them with sand, then re-enter the ocean and repeat. I laughed so hard at the boys sincere and serious enthusiasm as they explained this phenomena to me. They were serious, which made me laugh more. They referred me to the internet for proof. Of course I had to check this out. And yes, that is just one of the ways to clean your jeans. Another, more reasonable way is to just wash them in Woolite Dark. Regardless, everyone agrees you are to purchase them 2 sizes too small (they will eventually stretch) and not wash them for as long as you can stand. Because it's raw denim, they are not supposed to wrinkle and everyone swears they don't smell. For even better results you should try to wear them as often as possible to help in the overall final fit. If you wear a wallet or cellphone in your pocket, expect the jeans to remember. The imprint will stay in the jeans- I swear, I saw it! One of the interns puts his jeans on as soon as he gets home each day; people will even sleep in them from time to time.

In all honesty, the jeans are nice and I was considering purchasing a pair of of the stretch denim jeans for women, which only run about $77 (yes I said only, this is high-end stuff people!). Below are the links to the a.p.c. site and care instructions for nudie jeans which is said to be a comparable brand. Take a look, and let me know what you think. Are the jeans worth all of this fuss? Let me hear what you think.

http://usonline.apc.fr/catalog/products/jeans/womens

http://www.nudiejeans.com/thisisnudie/takecare#1

Tina Turner - Private Dancer (2002 Digital Remaster)

Pole-ar Opposites

So last night, Nicole and I went to Flirty Girl Fitness to take a pole dancing class. I have hardly any upper body strength, so this was more than a notion. But we wanted to try it and set out to see what the class was about. For the record, if you're wondering, we would make AWFUL strippers! Between my lack of coordination and Nicole's "I smell something" face, I don't know how much money we'd make. The pole is scary and dangerous. I pulled muscles in both arms during the warm-up alone! Who knew laying on your back while hoisting your legs in the air while making your legs and butt jiggle would cause temporary paralysis in my arms! Anyway, it was during my class that I realized my major issue. Besides the fact that lifting 155 lbs on two weak arms ain't easy, the main hindrance to my stripping career is: I'm too damn sweaty. You see sweat causes you to stick, to the pole, to the floor, to your clothes. The instructor and two regular students had arm sweat bands, leg warmers and/or gloves. This gave them the slippery momentum to swing with ease. I, on the other hand, often found myself on the floor in a pretzel-like tangle. Not sexy nor cute. This led me to research stripper injuries. It turns out not only do our beloved exotic dancers endure injury, their patrons do as well. There are a few lawsuits I found on the web from the past few years involving flying stilettos, broken mirrors and high-heel-clad kicks to the face resulting in broken noses and permanent double vision. So the next time you visit a strip club (if that's your thing, I'm not judging, I'm all for putting some young tenderoni through school. Maya loves the kids!) make sure to tip your stripper and tip her well. She works hard for the money. Below you'll find a two-part article on how to avoid occupational injuries as an exotic dancer. I'm also including Tina Turner's, Private Dancer.

Avoiding Occupational Injuries as an Exotic Dancer, Part 1
As many dancers know, exotic dancing or stripping can take its toll on the skin, muscles, joints, and tendons. With just a little preperation, adult performers at all levels can protect their health for years to come.
Read More

Avoiding Occupational Injuries as an Exotic Dancer Part 2
If you've managed to follow the guidelines in Part 1, there are still several other simple ways for you to improve your health as a dancer and ensure that your joints will still be functioning well in the years to come.
Read More

Hide All Butter Knives Please!

Have you ever noticed how sad, depressed, mad and irritated people who make public and generic declarations of how happy they are seem to be? For instance, my favorites: I'm blessed, Blessed by the Best or I'm saved, sanctified and fiiilllled with the Holy Ghost! Save the drama fo' yo' mama! I'm not falling for it. As always Facebook has brought this to a blinding light. Although my best friend Antoine says it's not the 'real world', I think Facebook serves as a miniature illustration of the world. You have those who, every other day, post how happy, wonderful and full of joy their life is. GM FB fam, I am truly blessed and happy with my life. Really?? Then why do I have the sudden urge to put you on suicide watch? It happens in real life too. I just got off the phone with an ex-boyfriend who has always liked to 'one-up' me in conversation. When I was in school, he would ask me what year I was in, then he would always be at least a semester ahead. If I am single, he is single. If I am in a relationship, or he feels me pulling away from our 'friendship', he let's me know how wonderful life is. How mature he has gotten and how 'cool' his 'girl' is. It annoys the $hit out of me! I try to keep cool and be unfazed. How was your weekend? His response: It was beautiful. I can't complain. I'm just enjoying life! Brotha, I want to believe you, I really do, but I don't. Because when you thought there was a chance for us, this same girl was so boring and annoying. How quickly things change.

In my opinion, happiness is a true state of mind. It is peace within, no matter what is around you. A peace that does not need to be verbalized or spoken. Happiness is spread by genuine love and joy. You do not need to define happiness or name it, in order for it to exist. You simply need to know it, have it and feel it in your heart. I know many of people who do not go around cheesing and saying cliched phrases to express their 'feelings'; but nevertheless, I feel love and comfort around them always.

The Same Plate

Two cute things occurred last night, I had to share...so bare with me:

1. Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, nude, with the door open, I say to Mr. Ghana, "I look good naked." He's in the dining room doing his homework. he looks up and responds, "Yeah, I know. I always tell you this." CLASSIC. P.S. Don't ask why I don't have any clothes on, I've already explained how I have no air. Plus, I'm a grown ass woman!

2. Mr. Ghana asks me if I've ever eaten from the same plate with someone. Now this is something we have done previously. I thought he just wanted to share his food. But apparently, in Ghana, couples (married or otherwise) not as a rule, but a socially accepted way of eating, eat from the same plate together. After I cooked, I asked if he was hungry, then in a typical I was raised in the 80s American fashion fixed myself a plate, went into the bedroom (on my bed no less- that's how I role) and watched Mad Men.

I'm learning, I'm learning. The time we did share food, I wasn't hungry and told him this. He said: "we are not eating because we are hungry, we are eating because we are happy". Ummm...is Ghana a direct link to my ancestors?? Because that is sooo me! I challenge you to share a regular meal with your mate. Let me know the results. Happy eating!

Aloe Blacc - I Need A Dollar (Official Video)

Hot as Hades

Chicago is having one of it's typical hot and muggy summers. I welcome this, because I am not a fan of the cold weather. However, the downside for me with the hot and sticky summer is, that ever since I moved out of my parent's house and have lived on my own, I have never EVER owned an air-conditioner. This may seem unbearable and crazy, but for five years, I have relied on open windows, my penchant for in-house nudity, fans, cold showers and ice cold water. This is not as bad as it sounds. Except there is this one issue that looms every season...the loud 'ninjas' that live next door! Listen, I am all for section 8 and integrating neighborhoods, but these fools bar-b-que EVERYday! They play there V-103, cuss the 43 random kids out and talk loudly about everything from how one of them bought a House of Dereon outfit that's too small that made her want to "beat Beyonce's ass!" to the 16-year-old girl who thinks 'she's grown' because she has a baby. My bedroom window is nearest to their back porch. I don't know how many people live in that building or at least in that one apartment, but it sounds like at least 62! They have a favorite person Shirley whose name they call often (she's a gemini like me so she gets a pass for being annoying; I know this because they celebrated her birthday around my birthday...I digress). There's a man who seems to represent for the male population and I'd be foolish to think there isn't plenty of alcohol. Have I ever had the desire to shout shut the F*%k up!? Yes! But, I think all 96 of them would scale my building to my 3rd floor apartment and commence to whoop my a$$! So I simply turn my T.V. up louder and raise my voice when talking on the phone. When my friend asks who is in my apartment at midnight, I just tell him, the 'people in the alley'. He responds, in shock, "they are outSIDE'. Yep! But forever on my nerves!

'Business Casual'

Last week I was given my 90 day review at work. This is never good for me, never! But among some of my usual offenses, at ANY job, I was told that although the company's dress code is business casual, I needed to lean more toward the business and let my clothes reflect a more conservative look. Apparently, the natural, free and expressive gemini that I am, has been a little to casual. Here's the problem, I have often had a hard time with this concept. I love bright colors and form-fitting clothes and absolutely detest what I like to refer to as modern-day corporate-plantation monkey suits! But alas, such is life. I can dress the part, but it takes so much concentration not to pick up the vibrant blue paisley dress. Or a dramatically ruffled sleeveless top (I think I am going to pull that off in the near future). Oh and by the way, it was explained that even casual Fridays are not open to me....argh! So I had to do some soul searching. How much do I like and more importantly need this job? The answer for both is: a lot. So I bought a skirt and sling-backs and set out to coordinate a new dress code for myself, along with a new attitude. So with one week down, what was my grade??? Perfect score! The funny thing is I got so many compliments on my attire. The best one came today. I wore some wide-legged bell bottomed tan pants, a light purple 1/4 length sleeve button up, my chocolate brown croc print pumps, a leopard print classic sweater (buttoned) and my, as Octavia calls it, Salt-N-Pepa goldish thick, but not too gaudy chain. I pulled the front piece of my hair back into a simple black barrette and put my face on to set it all off. My absolute real-live fashion hero. The woman whose closet I would love to raid. The person who, if she ever held a garage sale, I'd be there at 6am sharp and volunteer if need be to get first dibs on all of her uber-fab clothes...yeah her...she said, and I nearly quote: I'm loving this, the color combination, the chain, everything, you look really good. O-M-G!!!!!! She is hands down the best dressed PERSON in the entire office. It meant so much to me, I beamed for about an hour. But she wasn't the only one, I have been noticed by both men and women in the office this week, saying things like: I've noticed your conservative look lately, I'm diggin' it or Maya always looks nice, she's got that Michelle Obama thing going on. What I learned this week though, beyond all else is, I not only looked better, I felt better and more confident. My attitude changed when I took better pride in my appearance. I feel like they even respected me more, which is always a plus. So cheers to all the corporate girls holding it down and still looking fly while doing so!