Lately I have been dreaming and dreaming and dreaming. I typically dream a little, but especially and more vividly during those special times of the month when my 'girlfriend' is in town. But that was weeks ago, and I have not been able to stop. The dreams are random, clear and leave me exhausted in the morning. I finally came to the resolve that I am stressed or worried, about what I wasn't sure.
The dreams have involved everything from the morbid to the weird. The night before last I dreamed about attending a funeral with a former boyfriend at a hospital that doubled as an open-spaced, island-like funeral home. I kept wondering and finally it came to me, I am stressed about work. Last night confirmed my suspicions. I first dreamed that we had some important people visiting our CEO in the office. I was being nosey and collecting My Coke Reward points from discarded pop cases in a recycling bin (I do this in real life). My goal was to pull the tabs before the two men came around the corner, but instead I tripped over and toppled the wastebasket in front of them. My CEO shook his head, made a 'you're so stupid comment' and walked away while chuckling. I was totally disregarded, but giggled and felt embarrassed at the same time. After that dream, I snapped at a co-worker who was getting on my nerves. I shouted, calling him something horrible which made him leave the room in silence. Then I dreamed of being in a beachfront California-style house with a concrete parking lot instead of sand. I was allowed to visit the first floor, but the second was reserved for the owner. Somehow, we snuck up there anyway. And a slow stressful, chase of sorts, ensued.
Yep, I'm stressed about work. It is official. My co-worker and friend had her baby (finally) on Monday, and I am now responsible for a lot of her workload during the maternity leave. I did not realize how bad it would affect me. But I know now; that's what I have been having anxiety about. We kept trying to meet beforehand to discuss what would be expected of me during her absence, but it never seemed like I had enough information. Now that I have covered her for three days so far, I am still having the dreams, but I am sleeping a little better. I have been busy since she's been gone. Last night, I realized I had not even read Essence.com yesterday. Crazy, I know, but I read it everyday! Yes, that's how I gauge my busy-ness, 'do I have time to read a little Essence.com during the day?'
Now that I know what's bothering me, I have been praying. Not so much just for sleep, but rest. My goal is to have less anxiety-filled dreams and more sound sleep, allowing me to wake more refreshed.
A girl can dream can't she??
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Birthday Celebration
This weekend, the crew and I celebrated our girl's birthday, in our typical fashion. Now while other GNOs consist of dinner and drinks, we like to take our celebrations up a notch. This weekend was no different. In the past we have done everything from a suburban roadhouse to a downtown blues club, even a ghetto strip club. Our goal collectively is to make the outing special, and make sure it's a night to remember. Due to schedules and out-of-town distance, everyone could not make it, so three of us had to hold it down for the birthday girl. We decided on a Blackhawks game, which she (unbeknownst to us) has always wanted to attend. Perfect!
We began with the Blackhawks and ended the night at a Hyde Park dive bar called The Cove on 55th Street (east of the viaduct) . This helped to calm our nerves since the Hawks lost, 4-5 in an overtime shootout. Now with any really fun night out, there are always quotes that you find yourself chuckling out loud to by yourself when you think of them later. Here are that night's soon-to-be classics:
In response to Ryen telling us about her new boo, I gush, 'I love dorks!' K-Hubb: 'I love di...oh never mind.'
When the Blackhawks score, Ak Fe, yells: 'Go SOX!!' *wrong team*
K-Hubb: 'Beyonce is the Kelly Rowland of the Screen Actors Guild.'
Ak Fe: '...so tomorrow I'm going to Missy's party.' Me: 'Missy Elliot?' *I had to put down the Amstel Light and laugh. The look on her face was priceless.*
As the 'jumbo-tron' camera captures random people enjoying the game, K-Hubb says, real nonchalant: 'They need to be shooting the 4 black people in here.' *For the record, I counted 10 total.*
Until next time...
We began with the Blackhawks and ended the night at a Hyde Park dive bar called The Cove on 55th Street (east of the viaduct) . This helped to calm our nerves since the Hawks lost, 4-5 in an overtime shootout. Now with any really fun night out, there are always quotes that you find yourself chuckling out loud to by yourself when you think of them later. Here are that night's soon-to-be classics:
In response to Ryen telling us about her new boo, I gush, 'I love dorks!' K-Hubb: 'I love di...oh never mind.'
When the Blackhawks score, Ak Fe, yells: 'Go SOX!!' *wrong team*
K-Hubb: 'Beyonce is the Kelly Rowland of the Screen Actors Guild.'
Ak Fe: '...so tomorrow I'm going to Missy's party.' Me: 'Missy Elliot?' *I had to put down the Amstel Light and laugh. The look on her face was priceless.*
As the 'jumbo-tron' camera captures random people enjoying the game, K-Hubb says, real nonchalant: 'They need to be shooting the 4 black people in here.' *For the record, I counted 10 total.*
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| What a 'suite' view! |
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
I Didn't Mean To Turn You On
Sunday, when I woke, I began to write this very long and detailed post about a text tiff I had in the wee hours of the morning. When I say 'wee', I'm talking 2:48am, Sunday morning to be exact. First, let me say, I usually cut all alerts, except phone calls off when I sleep. For whatever reason, I did not do so that night. So the text woke me up. I was not happy. Second, unless we are a couple, or dating, you cannot communicate with me at all times of the night, after 9:30pm, to be specific. I am irritated by the whole situation. Furthermore, the text exchange I had with this man, who we'll call Jack, was so entertaining and audacious that I wanted to blog in detail about the entire communication. Five descriptive paragraphs in, and my girls were calling for details about the apple orchard outing I had coordinated. I had to go. So I saved what I had, with the intent to come back later and finish. After thinking about it further, I decided not to put the gentleman on blast. For a couple of reasons, but mainly because I feel the issue is not limited to just him.
To make a long story short, we were digging each other, apparently, but had very different ways of showing it. I invited him to a major sporting event, which he could not attend, fine. No hard feelings. He, however, proceeded to discuss my physique via text. What he considered letting me know that he 'liked' me, I thought was downright disrespectful. He called himself admiring my body. I felt objectified. To him, he made it blatantly obvious that he liked me. But I thought he did not take me serious.
But he is not the only one. I have another young man, who calls himself liking me, but just sends me random texts or gives me verbal compliments on how well I carry myself. I do not mind this, but in both cases my confusion is, why not just ask me out on a date? Jack, seemed puzzled as to why I did not understand his flirting. The other young man keeps saying how cruel I am to him because he never sees me outside of my workplace. For the record, he is not a co-worker. He is a regular delivery guy, who I see rather frequently on the job. I told him I was ok with hanging out, but I get the feeling he wants me to make the first move.
Do men even 'court' anymore? I do not want to set the tone in a pending relationship, taking on the role of the 'man' or dominant force. I have enough in my life to think about. I do not want to have to coordinate every aspect of my love life either. Jack finally texted, 'Fine can I take you out sometime?' I responded, yes. You see, I'm not mad at him, but rather disappointed that no one has previously explained to him how to treat a grown woman, a lady. It is well into the fall season. School is now officially in session.
To make a long story short, we were digging each other, apparently, but had very different ways of showing it. I invited him to a major sporting event, which he could not attend, fine. No hard feelings. He, however, proceeded to discuss my physique via text. What he considered letting me know that he 'liked' me, I thought was downright disrespectful. He called himself admiring my body. I felt objectified. To him, he made it blatantly obvious that he liked me. But I thought he did not take me serious.
But he is not the only one. I have another young man, who calls himself liking me, but just sends me random texts or gives me verbal compliments on how well I carry myself. I do not mind this, but in both cases my confusion is, why not just ask me out on a date? Jack, seemed puzzled as to why I did not understand his flirting. The other young man keeps saying how cruel I am to him because he never sees me outside of my workplace. For the record, he is not a co-worker. He is a regular delivery guy, who I see rather frequently on the job. I told him I was ok with hanging out, but I get the feeling he wants me to make the first move.
Do men even 'court' anymore? I do not want to set the tone in a pending relationship, taking on the role of the 'man' or dominant force. I have enough in my life to think about. I do not want to have to coordinate every aspect of my love life either. Jack finally texted, 'Fine can I take you out sometime?' I responded, yes. You see, I'm not mad at him, but rather disappointed that no one has previously explained to him how to treat a grown woman, a lady. It is well into the fall season. School is now officially in session.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Cemetery Across the Street
Perpendicular to my residential block is a large, prominent cemetery. When I first moved to the neighborhood, about four years ago, I was not a fan of this cemetery. It felt creepy and weird. But over time, I barely thought about it. Recently, however, it has served as a reminder of life. You see, every 6-8 weeks, like clockwork, I catch a Saturday funeral procession. Those are the worst. Here I am, coming home from boot camp class, parking my car and I will witness that long, never-ending slow procession. Or, while washing dishes I may see through my kitchen window, a horse-drawn chariot enter the gates. Today, I sat in my car gathering my things and sat to watch how the CTA bus would treat the temporary traffic jam. It fascinates me so.
I have seen the procession of people who's lives have been cut short, due to violence (there were sign-carrying 'stop the violence' marchers accompany them). The slow steady crawl of mourners of people I presume to have been police officers. My mood is usually a weird mix between sadness, gratefulness and restlessness. The last mood, restlessness, comes when I think of how little time we have. I catch myself before tearing up to think, 'now is the time.' I am sure most of the deceased who have been driven through those gates had something marked on their calendars for an upcoming date and time. Or something they kept putting off until later. All probably had at least one or two items left of their bucket list.
A co-worker told me yesterday, he likes reading my blog, because I have a very 'robust' life. I was flattered. He finds it funny that I look at my life as quite mediocre. Which, to some degree, I do. He compares me to the movie 'Brown Sugar'. In his eyes, there is so much to my life. And it is; but I told him, there is so much more out there that I have not even tapped into yet. That cemetery is my reminder. There is a national commercial that runs relatively frequently. It features a man riding a motorcycle narrating how he became a biker. It ends with him saying he wants to leave this world exhausted (or something to that effect). Basically, as dancers would say, leave it all on the stage. Live life to the fullest.
I visited the cemetery for the first time a few months ago with a girlfriend who's mother is buried there. My girlfriend had not been to the grave sight in years. She has always said her mother would watch over me since we're neighbors of sorts. If she is, I hope she likes what she sees.
I have seen the procession of people who's lives have been cut short, due to violence (there were sign-carrying 'stop the violence' marchers accompany them). The slow steady crawl of mourners of people I presume to have been police officers. My mood is usually a weird mix between sadness, gratefulness and restlessness. The last mood, restlessness, comes when I think of how little time we have. I catch myself before tearing up to think, 'now is the time.' I am sure most of the deceased who have been driven through those gates had something marked on their calendars for an upcoming date and time. Or something they kept putting off until later. All probably had at least one or two items left of their bucket list.
A co-worker told me yesterday, he likes reading my blog, because I have a very 'robust' life. I was flattered. He finds it funny that I look at my life as quite mediocre. Which, to some degree, I do. He compares me to the movie 'Brown Sugar'. In his eyes, there is so much to my life. And it is; but I told him, there is so much more out there that I have not even tapped into yet. That cemetery is my reminder. There is a national commercial that runs relatively frequently. It features a man riding a motorcycle narrating how he became a biker. It ends with him saying he wants to leave this world exhausted (or something to that effect). Basically, as dancers would say, leave it all on the stage. Live life to the fullest.
I visited the cemetery for the first time a few months ago with a girlfriend who's mother is buried there. My girlfriend had not been to the grave sight in years. She has always said her mother would watch over me since we're neighbors of sorts. If she is, I hope she likes what she sees.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Memories
I was watching a new show on CBS tonight called, '2 Broke Girls'. The basis of the new fall comedy is two girls who work together in a Brooklyn diner have come together as friends and roommates because both are broke. One girl is an heiress who has fallen on hard times and the other comes from a poorer background. The show has 'canceled' written all over it. But, it is CBS, and they have a following that likes quirky comedies and shows. Does JAG and Big Bang Theory come to mind? Anyway, watching the show and the tough-talking characters made me think of this memory...
I, along with my girls Nicole and K-Hubb, had flown to New York after work on a Friday last year for a quick getaway weekend in the city to see the Broadway show Fela. Antoine was also meeting me there from Denver ( I think, I can't remember what city he was living in then). We were staying in Battery Park and decided to go out for drinks as soon as we landed since there was limited time to kick it. We went to a nearby pub. The bartender, a woman, asked what we were having. I answered, 'I don't know surprise me. Whatever.' This usually delights bartenders, because they can test out new concoctions and be creative. But not this heifer. She impatiently replied, 'No, you're going to be a big girl and tell me what you want.' I think I ended up telling her to fix a gin and tonic. She rolled her eyes and turned around to mix my drink. Bitch. Gotta love New York.
I, along with my girls Nicole and K-Hubb, had flown to New York after work on a Friday last year for a quick getaway weekend in the city to see the Broadway show Fela. Antoine was also meeting me there from Denver ( I think, I can't remember what city he was living in then). We were staying in Battery Park and decided to go out for drinks as soon as we landed since there was limited time to kick it. We went to a nearby pub. The bartender, a woman, asked what we were having. I answered, 'I don't know surprise me. Whatever.' This usually delights bartenders, because they can test out new concoctions and be creative. But not this heifer. She impatiently replied, 'No, you're going to be a big girl and tell me what you want.' I think I ended up telling her to fix a gin and tonic. She rolled her eyes and turned around to mix my drink. Bitch. Gotta love New York.
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| Antoine and I that night at the bar in NYC. |
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Desperately Seeking a Life
It came to me this morning. The realization that I have a problem, a real problem. It was exactly a week ago today that I was starting to slowly and with wave-like nausea, come to after an hour and a half long, anesthetic-induced sleep-imposed minor surgery. I have been instructed by my surgeon to keep physical activity light, no heavy lifting and rest for a full and quick recovery. No bootcamp, no problem, I'll just keep my diet in check. No heavy lifting, good, there is less risk of breaking a nail. Rest, well we all could use a good rest, but where, when and how long becomes the issue. I was prescribed, along with a bottle of 30 hydrocodone (vicodin), 2 full weeks of medical leave from work.
It was determined and agreed prior to surgery, by my father and I, that recovery would take place at his house. I actually like being 'home'. I sleep in my old twin-size bed. Watch my old 13" t.v., which sits on my old 80's furniture. As ridiculous as it sounds, I still have clothes here. In fact, last week I found a nightgown I have been missing. My dad cooks breakfast and we coordinate dinner, just like old times. He has not (sarcastically) requested I leave yet, so I will stay. But what occurred to me this morning, as I perused Facebook and my favorite gossip websites is, an idle mind IS the devil's playground.
Lately, I have been praying about my curt tongue, snide remarks, endless irritation of others and overall judgmental thoughts and comments. My good girlfriend Lorraine advised that I am to love everyone and not judge or persecute them for their life decisions, even if said decisions are absolutely absurd to me. We also discussed my Facebook stalking skills, or lack thereof. How I pieced together unfounded nonsense about a mutual friend based on pictures posted and my own personal issues. Recently, although we just had this conversation a mere 2 Saturdays ago, I was at it again. I know it's time for me to, as Antoine says, 'get off of Facebook'. If only for a few weeks, or at least limit my negative posts and stalking. My stalking is the worst! I start clicking on friends of friends of friends so tough, I cannot even remember how I got to the particular person's page! I know, I know. Once I went so far, I had to literally stop myself from commenting on a stranger's photo. I really did want to 'Like' it and tell him how fierce he looked...shaking my head.
My self-diagnosed craziness reminded me of a cousin of mine. She lives abroad with her military husband. She is a housewife and stay-at-home mom of 3; a full-time job, indeed. We are actually no longer friends on Facebook and have not spoken in about a year. It's sad and stupid, but I don't feel like digging up old garbage. The point is, a lot of our recent arguments and issues of late have surfaced since she started moving around and living the stay-at-home life. Also, her pregnancies seem to present a problem too, we have fallen out around child #s 2 and 3. It could be a coincidence, but I digress. My cousin has been known to stir up gossip, spread stories throughout the family and giddily tell you what negative thing another family member has said about you. She would scour MySpace (when that was popular) and Facebook and then report her disdain for the person who got pregnant before marriage, or got fat. The person who is aging poorly, the designated ghetto girls or the couple who will not last in her opinion, have all come under her fire. The reason this all sounds so familiar to me, is this type of snobbish rhetoric has graced my lips as of late. This behavior is my new norm. And why? Because like my cousin who casually took classes at whatever local college was nearby where her husband was stationed, who's daily life was broken up only by taking the kids to daycare or having lunch with her husband, but who had a hard time keeping friends (even the other military wives) because she was moving around so, I am bored!
Boredom is tricky. It's better than craziness knocking at your door, but it will drive you insane. It is easy to be behind a computer or laying down watching t.v. and be so annoyed with everyone else, I mean, what else is there to do? Sure 2 weeks off from work sounds fun initially, but if you have an injury or are limited in what you are able to do. If you have only left the house a total of four times in a week. If your conversations mainly involve the only other person in the house, sprinkled with daily progress report calls from your mother, you get bored!! I want to heal completely before going back to work. But when I'm back to normal, I assure you, I will not be nearly as interested in Facebook or petty website gossip. Instead I will return to living and having something of value to talk about. My stalking will again heavily consist of good deals and pieces to add to my wardrobe collection. That's the best prescription yet. Until then, it's almost time for the People's Court...
It was determined and agreed prior to surgery, by my father and I, that recovery would take place at his house. I actually like being 'home'. I sleep in my old twin-size bed. Watch my old 13" t.v., which sits on my old 80's furniture. As ridiculous as it sounds, I still have clothes here. In fact, last week I found a nightgown I have been missing. My dad cooks breakfast and we coordinate dinner, just like old times. He has not (sarcastically) requested I leave yet, so I will stay. But what occurred to me this morning, as I perused Facebook and my favorite gossip websites is, an idle mind IS the devil's playground.
Lately, I have been praying about my curt tongue, snide remarks, endless irritation of others and overall judgmental thoughts and comments. My good girlfriend Lorraine advised that I am to love everyone and not judge or persecute them for their life decisions, even if said decisions are absolutely absurd to me. We also discussed my Facebook stalking skills, or lack thereof. How I pieced together unfounded nonsense about a mutual friend based on pictures posted and my own personal issues. Recently, although we just had this conversation a mere 2 Saturdays ago, I was at it again. I know it's time for me to, as Antoine says, 'get off of Facebook'. If only for a few weeks, or at least limit my negative posts and stalking. My stalking is the worst! I start clicking on friends of friends of friends so tough, I cannot even remember how I got to the particular person's page! I know, I know. Once I went so far, I had to literally stop myself from commenting on a stranger's photo. I really did want to 'Like' it and tell him how fierce he looked...shaking my head.
My self-diagnosed craziness reminded me of a cousin of mine. She lives abroad with her military husband. She is a housewife and stay-at-home mom of 3; a full-time job, indeed. We are actually no longer friends on Facebook and have not spoken in about a year. It's sad and stupid, but I don't feel like digging up old garbage. The point is, a lot of our recent arguments and issues of late have surfaced since she started moving around and living the stay-at-home life. Also, her pregnancies seem to present a problem too, we have fallen out around child #s 2 and 3. It could be a coincidence, but I digress. My cousin has been known to stir up gossip, spread stories throughout the family and giddily tell you what negative thing another family member has said about you. She would scour MySpace (when that was popular) and Facebook and then report her disdain for the person who got pregnant before marriage, or got fat. The person who is aging poorly, the designated ghetto girls or the couple who will not last in her opinion, have all come under her fire. The reason this all sounds so familiar to me, is this type of snobbish rhetoric has graced my lips as of late. This behavior is my new norm. And why? Because like my cousin who casually took classes at whatever local college was nearby where her husband was stationed, who's daily life was broken up only by taking the kids to daycare or having lunch with her husband, but who had a hard time keeping friends (even the other military wives) because she was moving around so, I am bored!
Boredom is tricky. It's better than craziness knocking at your door, but it will drive you insane. It is easy to be behind a computer or laying down watching t.v. and be so annoyed with everyone else, I mean, what else is there to do? Sure 2 weeks off from work sounds fun initially, but if you have an injury or are limited in what you are able to do. If you have only left the house a total of four times in a week. If your conversations mainly involve the only other person in the house, sprinkled with daily progress report calls from your mother, you get bored!! I want to heal completely before going back to work. But when I'm back to normal, I assure you, I will not be nearly as interested in Facebook or petty website gossip. Instead I will return to living and having something of value to talk about. My stalking will again heavily consist of good deals and pieces to add to my wardrobe collection. That's the best prescription yet. Until then, it's almost time for the People's Court...
Monday, September 26, 2011
Enough Already!
I read a post on Essence.com that just irked the shit out of me. The 'Write or Die Chick', Janelle Harris, wrote about an article she read where an ignorant mofo said that he discourages his single friends from marrying a woman who did not grow up with a father, as she will not know how to treat a man. Oh-kaaay! Can we just stop! What nonsense! Can we stop reading, writing and sharing this ridiculousness? Why is the 'plight' of single black women always come back to us?! Here are the most annoying reasons why we are single (if you believe them): We are too old. We have kids. We have too many kids. We don't have kids. We have been married. We have never been married. We are overweight. We don't take care of ourselves. We are to selfish and vain. We are ghetto. We are quick to have an attitude. We emasculate men. We're not white (one of my personal favorites). Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Can we all agree that some brothers (and maybe others) are just not trying to settle down now? Not to mention the overall stats of population (men vs. women). They have more options than ever and men are taking advantage and taking their sweet little time. That's if they decide to settle at all. But to say women who did not grow up with fathers will not make good wives. Come on now! I have officially heard it all. I agree with Ms. Harris' sentiment on this issue. Read the article here. I have now taken a stand to not read another study, article, book passage, blog posting, or the likes about why I, MJ, is single. Because if I believe in the Creator, as I do, than I have to trust and know that it is, what it is. It will be, what it will be. What is mine is mine, what is meant for me cannot be determined by some professor's jacked up data collected by women I cannot verify are even telling the truth. Hell! I can't even verify these 'subjects' exist. Who knows where this information comes from or how it was collected. I will not buy into it. I will not open my ears to utter bull, any longer! *exhale*
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