Singularly Single

I am single.  Again.  There, I said it!  It is not something I thought I would be facing at this point again, but it is what it is.  You live.  You learn.  You move on.  No hard feelings.  The most glaring initial problem with break-ups is getting back acclimated with your single self.  More nights at home alone.  Less confidence in who to choose to accompany you to certain events.  That was always his job.  Although now that I think about it, his work schedule and overall lack of interest in things that interested me left me still having to make that choice, but it still felt like I had more opportunities to have an "escort" or buddy.  But I digress.  There are a few events that have come up recently that I have invited friends to, with no success.  I will be the first to admit- it happens.  Life that is.  My girlfriends have kids, and husbands, jobs, stressful re-occurring life issues, plans, class, work assignments.  Lives.  They need naps, and rest, doctor's appointments, money, and a rain-check.  I cannot be mad.  Is it frustrating?  At times, yes.   But it's adult life. 

So where will I turn for companionship during this re-adjustment period?  Within.  I have decided to take myself on dates.  Not once in awhile, but regularly.  Not in that corny, girl you need to get to know you before you can be with any man! type of way, but in a sincere effort to just keep myself entertained and interested.  I purchased one ticket to see Amel Larrieux in September.  I gladly accepted two tickets to the Black Harvest Film Festival from my boss yesterday, with no idea of who would get the other ticket.  I had struck out with my first three offers.  So before my co-worker showed excitement and I offered her the ticket, I planned on attending the short film series on Love (yes, Love) last night, by myself.  It has been a awhile since I have courted me.  I admit, I'm a bit rusty, but taking care of myself is a necessity.  I cannot wait for the right companion to emerge.  I have to keep moving forward, to make this a smooth transition.  In fact, I am going to take a breather from inviting others to the "party" so much.  If it happens and we get together.  Great.  If not, no biggie.   I think I can handle this alone.

The Worrisome Non-Mother

Each summer, my company-sponsored internship program hosts about 20-25 young people from both college and high school.  Sometimes we partner with mentor programs within the city and allow their handpicked students to join our program and work as well.  This is how I ended up with my intern/mentee this year.  She is a recent Chicago Public Schools high school graduate and ready to head off to college in less than a week.  When she first arrived, she had about two to three months left of her senior year.  She was anxious about graduating and a bit timid within our work environment.  When summertime came, and our other interns arrived (most of them older), I along with my co-worker, who also helped mentor this young lady, encouraged her to make friends and open up to the early stages of “networking”.  She was nervous, but soon she had a regular lunch crew, acquired work friends and even did a bit of complaining!  

I was told my intern was coming as she literally walked through the door.  I had no project for her to work on, nothing specific and intensive for her to do.  My goal, as with all of my interns in the past:  teach her what I could work-wise, but try to get to know her on a personal level as well.  When she arrived after school, I would ask her about her day, her plans for graduation and prom, find out what was going on with her boyfriend and get a general sense of what her life was like all the while learning about PhotoChat (I think?), her definition of ratchedness and dishing out MJ’s tidbits of advice here and there.  All in all, I think she enjoyed her time and I got an up close view of her blossoming into a college-bound young lady.

On Wednesday, her mentor organization held a luncheon that centered around the interns completing their public speaking challenge.  This was a PowerPoint presentation, discussing the company they worked for, what they did and the lessons learned during their internship, in front of an audience of mentors and judges.  My girl was nervous after having worked on the project for months.  I have to admit, so was I.  What had she learned?  Did we provide a work environment that she could be proud of?  How would her presentation stand up to the others?  I mean, she briefly interviewed me, so what exactly was she going to discuss?  What wise-crack comment had I given her that would come back to bite me in front of all of these people?  To my delight, the presentation was excellent!  It brought tears to my eyes.  I was so proud!

Thursday, was her last day working with us.  I got all misty-eyed and gave her a long hug.  We pulled away, she was crying and we embraced again.  My instinct was to tell her everything I could think of:  Don’t put your drink down unattended, You can party, but not too hard, You can do whatever you want to do, Love your boyfriend, but know that there are other boys, Take care of your reputation, it will follow you all four years and lastly, I reiterated a point we had discussed thoroughly in the past- Don’t lose your crown!  She nodded in agreement, tears streaming down her face.  “I know, I’ll remember”.  

I will admit, there were times I had to correct her, gently, but professionally.  Her teenaged moodiness and slight eye-rolls would work my nerves.  She was your average teenager, with boyfriend drama, best friend issues and high school annoyances.  She was still my girl though. Yesterday, at work, I received an e-mail from her company account.  She must have scheduled it from the previous day.  In it was an attached Word document thanking me for the lessons I taught her.  How much she appreciated those lessons.  “Not only are you my mentor you are also my big sister that taught me to always keep it classy and always act like a lady.”  This must be how a parent/guardian feels!  You want them to soak up what you tell them and take it to heart.  You want to know that they are listening.  You want them to be okay.  Most importantly, you don’t want them to make the same mistakes you did.

With the city’s senseless violence and staggering high school dropout rates unwavering, I always take personal care to wish the interns a safe night, weekend, or return to school, with reminders to “be careful” and “be good”.  I did the same with my intern this year.  I found myself adding her to my prayer list.  Not only worrying, but wanting to personally protect her.  When it comes to our youth, I believe it really does take a village.  As a fellow villager, my work feels sometimes just as tough as a parent, knowing that every little experience, word of encouragement or discouragement, makes a difference in someones life.  I still have “old tapes” that play in my head that some former employee, school teacher or classmate said to me many moons ago that serve to shred my self esteem at times.  Thoughts I have to overcome and try my best to delete so that I can be productive and move on, releasing all judgement.  I want the words that I speak, that might be on auto-play in a young person’s mind that I have encountered to be positive and uplifting.  You want to create a better world?  It starts with the younger generation and how they feel about themselves.  If they love, respect and believe in themselves we all benefit.

Too Grown

Yesterday I returned from a trip to D.C.  I flew in on Saturday for my Best Friend's Trip 2013, which my best friend (hence the title) Antoine and I do each year.  We chose D.C. to catch the highly anticipated Mrs. Carter Tour starring Beyoncé.  Neither of us had seen her prior and decided the trip would kill two birds with one stone.  Although we both frequent live performances, our distance and schedules never permit us to see any major concerts together and we could finally settle on a trip destination for 2013.  A win-win situation.

The plan was set.  Concert and plane tickets were purchased.  What I realized was, unlike previous trips from years prior, this vacation did not involve us "kickin' it" hard.  There was no club-hopping.  Instead we caught a great happy hour at a tapas restaurant.  Where previously we may have chugged tequila and vodka drinks, we opted instead for pitchers of sangria with co-workers and new friends.  In the past I would have stressed a shopping excursion.  This year, our days were spent visiting the recently erected Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial and the Rosa Parks statue located in Statuary Hall in the Capitol.  We did not wear our feet out dancing all night.  The soreness came from walking from the Smithsonian's African Art and American History museums to the National Archives building where we viewed everything from Michelle Obama's first inauguration ball gown to the original Constitution.  We both ended up seeing Beyonce separately prior to our trip and were not dying to see the show again.  So on our last night, we sold our concert tickets on Craig's List and bought $4 lawn seats at Vienna, Virginia's Wolf Trap National Park for Performing Arts to see the Aspen Santa Fe Ballet.

The trip, as always was a success.  We spent less money than usual (neither spending more that $200) and agreed we both had an amazing time.  You can map our maturity through our trips and vacations.  They have become less about getting 'tow up' and more about bonding, relaxing, getting away and learning.  Yes, things have definitely changed!

Scripted

I just finished watching the entire series, The Wire, this evening.  Yes, I know I am behind.  When the show first aired on HBO in 2002, I had a hard time following the storyline and felt the plot was too slow.  Fast forward to the present day and here I am glued to my HBO Go every day, concerned about the characters and outcome.  This evening I wrapped up the series with Episodes 9 and 10 of Season 5. My overall verdict:  this was a well-written, beautiful, honest, realistic and bitter-sweet scripted program.

With all due respect to those who enjoy "reality t.v.", I am over it.  These shows feature people I do not really care about.  Individuals who I would not want to hang around in real life, acting under the guise of "reality".  When in fact they are usually goaded by producers looking for something interesting in an uninteresting situation.  I enjoyed The Wire.  Just like I enjoy Mad Men, Breaking Bad, House of Cards and others.  I love to see a good story come to life.

Whenever I see some 5-bundle-weave-wearing, red-bottom-Louboutin-sporting, false eyelash having, beat-face on a Tuesday afternoon "woman" cursing someone out or having lunch on a patio, revealing secrets that lead to commercial breaks, I find myself absolutely bored, sometimes intrigued, but in the end, always bored.  I have no interest.  As a writer, I marvel at and get easily sucked in by good writers.  I want a story that stays with me, that gets me pumped and excited.  A script that has me quoting fictional characters on Facebook, or looking for someone whom I can talk to about what I just saw.  I want a show with a good storyline and believable characters portrayed by flawless actors.  I know reality t.v. is cheaper, but can we bring back more good scripted programs?

Self-Absorbed, You Say?

Yesterday, as I waited at the bus stop headed home, a young man approached me.  He had just crossed the street, walking in my direction talking to another man who was shaking his head "no" and moving away from him.  The young man, dressed in all white with a toothy smile, said:  "Please tell me you're going to be the cool person I talk to today."  Here we go... I was not in the mood, and knew whatever he was about to say would have a request for money wrapped around the end.  "Oh no, please, not today."  That was my response.  To which he said, "you know what?  And don't take this the wrong way.  But, overall, people in Chicago are very self-absorbed.  That has been my experience since I've been here."  "Well, you're in the financial district, so that's why."  In hindsight, I am not really sure why I said this, or what it exactly means.  I guess, my point was, this is the business epicenter of the city.  People have short patience when it comes to handouts and pretty much everything else.  When you work downtown, you lose interest in a lot of things that go on downtown.  You are no longer in awe of every little tweak in the day.  Instead, you are just trying to get home (in my case), get something to eat (quickly) or grab a drink (because you need it).

He walked away and I thought, well he's not going to get too far with that attitude.  When I woke up this morning, I had completely forgotten about my exchange with this guy.  Instead my thoughts were on a very vivid dream I had that revolved around me, brace yourself... choosing the right nail polish color for my mani and pedi that I need to get by tomorrow.  Hmmm... he might be on to something.

The Maasai

I have been staying at my mother's house for the past week dog-sitting.  Her dog, Chancey, has been banned from my building after his previous month-long forbidden stay at my apartment.  The condo association got wind of his furry presence and have been on the lookout for any signs of him.  So when my mother left town to go to visit family in the D.C./Maryland area, she needed me to watch my little canine "brother".  Typically, I do not watch Chance.  She will ask my cousin or even a family friend.  My building's rules, get me marked off the list of choices.  This time around, we came up with the most sensible and logical idea of me just staying with him at her house.  So that has been my whole week since two Friday's ago:  twice-daily walks, feeding and preparing the apartment for my departure.

I have to admit, the morning and even some evening walks are no joke- energy-wise.  Since he is usually confined to a cage for the day (in hopes of avoiding accidents), I try to provide decent length walks both times.  Last Friday, I actually just started letting him have free reign of the living room and kitchen area and he seems to do well throughout the day.  Regardless, it can be a lot trying to take care of him and get myself ready for work.  Not to compare him to a child, but I feel for both the doggie parents and human parents alike.  Being responsible for a living being, whether animal of human (obviously) takes a lot of commitment. 

That said, I still have to catch a bus in the morning to make it to work on-time after walking him and getting dressed.  This morning, as I was on the elevator going down to the lobby, I pulled up my Chicago Transit phone app to see when the next bus was scheduled.  According to my phone I had one minute to catch the next bus.  If I missed that bus, my next opportunity would not come around for another 22 minutes- making me late for work for sure.  The bus tracker sites are usually 1-2 minutes behind, so I knew I would have to run to get outside in enough time to catch it.  As I got out of the elevator and headed for the front door (where the bus actually stops), I could see my bus come into view and then move on before I could get to the second set of double doors.  Dammit!  Next option, try to catch it at the next bus stop.  So I do what I affectionately call my "fat girl run".  Anyone who has ever been on the phone while I have done this sprint will tell you, it usually involves heavy breathing- and not the good kind.  As I call out to "hold the bus!"  I realize, no one has heard me or cares.  So there I was in the middle of the next block, pissed. 

A cab pulled up and shouted out through his passenger window, "get in!"  As I opened the door reluctantly, I said, "I can't afford a cab ride."  He responded, "no, I'm going to help you catch the bus."  "Thank you" was all I could get out through my labored breathing.  Then, because I thought about how nice it was of him, "thank you, again."  The cabby said, "I saw you sprinting and thought, wow, she must be a Maasai!"  That made me laugh and feel proud all in the same moment.  By no means can I be compared to this beautiful, semi-nomadic group of people found in southern Kenya and northern Tanzania.  I felt regal, nonetheless, in the moment though.  Just imagining what I looked like running- giving my all to catch something that seemed like I had only barely missed.  Depressing as it can be, I watch the news each morning to start my day.  I hold personal stories like this one dear to my heart, because no matter what is said about the ills of our society, there are still good people who look out for one another.  Two blocks up, I got out of the cab and caught my bus.  I made it to work with a couple of minutes to spare and a good story to tell.

The Brain

So I started daydreaming about how I'm going to successfully complete the juicing portion of the cleanse I'm starting the beginning of August.  Then I thought how nice it would be to add cherries to the mix, but where can you find pitted black cherries? That led me to Google, which brought me to Williams-Sonoma who have an OXO Cherry & Olive Pitter. But while looking at that item I discovered their 'Burger Shop' which carries a Stuffed Hamburger Press with Lifter. It was accompanied by a picture of cheddar cheese stuffed burgers.  A1: I'll take each- the cherry Pitter, hamburger press AND the burger itself. B2: Am I the only one who is often captivated by Williams-Sonoma  catalogs?  C3: This is 'distracted' at it's finest ladies and gentlemen!  A sample of how my brain works...

The Pitter

http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/oxo-olive-and-cherry-pitter/

The Press

http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/stuffed-hamburger-press-with-lifter/