Truthfully Speaking

for real ramblins’

I don’t claim to understand the plight of the black man. I cannot say that I always believe that there is a plight rather than consequences to the actions of black men. However, last night, I was thrown back by Real World’s episode. I don’t know what I would do if some cops came up and surrounded me in the club and searched me for a gun. I don’t know how I would react when I am told that they are only acting on an anonymous tip. Now look, I am not a racist, but that shit had to be done by whitey. I went so far as to think that it was a tip from one of his roommates; but that’s all just conspiracy theory talk.

The fact that his housemate could not understand why he was so angry didn’t surprise me in the least. Yup, today is my whitey bashing post. Despite how we say that we are not racist and prejudiced, I think we all have a time in our life in which we begin to point fingers at another race that is obtaining the privileges that we are not allowed. I mean, two things got me last night. I really began to question the sincerity of white folk. Ok, I don’t know names so whatever…Shawty was complaining about her dad not being there. Now I totally understand that complaint. My dad has to be the biggest deadbeat on the planet. So I know what it means to not be able to rely on someone who helped create you. She’d been working all her life. That situation is not an isolated one for her. So I definitely understand how she could be struggling with the fact that she cannot spend like the others in the house. If a nigga don’t got it, stay home and mope. My mother always told me to live within my means. If I can’t do it within the allotted budget that my credit card and I have, it can’t be done. So anyway, white girl starts getting teary eyed. Perhaps she was sincere about it. But I started to question the sincerity of a white person who opts to give someone of another race any object of financial worth. Do I owe you now? When you need something and you know I have it, do I have to give it to you because you gave me once? How does that work? Then:

The white boy screams on Karamo about him opening his Big Mouth. Big mouth? His big mouth wasn’t loud enough for MJ to hear? Where were his roommates when cops were all on him like the nigga was a terrorist? His big mouth obviously was not big enough then. So white boy says that he wants to be there for black boy, but black boy won’t let him. Walk a day in a brotha’s shoes and see if you mean what the hell you say bro.

Now, the last thing in this sporadic post of mine is this:
As much as I am very much attracted to Karamo (and um, yeah I know he’s gay), I question why he’s been so unlucky that he could have had the same situation happen to him over 20 times. Am I over reacting by thinking that that is just a bit much for one person? I mean, I know that he’s big. My brother is big too. But the cops have only stopped his ass once (and that may have been his own fault). My point is simply this, as a black woman, how can I know that you are not causing this to happen to you? I don’t know a bunch of dudes who have been stopped that many time and been undeserving. Most of the guys I know should do a stint or two in jail. But they haven’t.

I can’t worry about what the whiteys really think because I’ll never be able to gage their sincerity. Like everyone says, there are always one or two who you may be able to trust. White folk say that about us too so don’t get it twisted. I can only worry about my black brothers and my black people. I’m gonna keep watching to see how things unfold this season…

Tuesday

Today will be a good day.
Today will be a good day.
Today will be a good day.
Today
Will Be
A
Good
Day. Hopefully

I’ve had two bad days in a row if you count Friday and skip Saturday and Sunday. Monday was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, it was a foul end. I sat down for a board meeting in which I knew absolutely nothing and I fucked up on preparing for the trustees. They didn’t realize. The president saved the day. I had to sit there and feel like I was dealing with my mom not talking to me. He said nothing for me for two straight hours. In another career, I’d be estatic about that. Yesterday, that shit was killing me. And by the time I got out of work at 7:20pm, I couldn’t go to the gym or go do something to take my mind off of the anger.

So today had better be a damn good day. I can’t afford to be dealing with stress and not having a source of release. I mean, with all the transitioning of time and place, I have not been able to meet anyone and worse yet, the things I did for leisure, I can’t even do. I’m becomming someone who lives at the job. Why the hell am I in Metro DC and not having the opportunity to meet all the folks I met on my visits here?

I’m about to figure out a way to make this work. I’m going to have to get my social life back. In the mean time, I’m trying to get a gambling permit for the org. Who knew this shit would be so damn difficult. I mean, all we are trying to do is raffle off a damn PT. Cruiser. Anyone considering purchasing a ticket at the minimal price of $150? There will only be 250 tickets sold. LOL

Most of my peoples had been like “Nigga pleez. Where the hell do you think I’m getting a buck fitty from?”

You know I’m dealing with some paid folk now…

Hmmmmmmmmmm

Maybe I’ll make it out of work in time to go to Lil’s to see Real World. From the one episode I saw, I’m kinda attracted to that dude Karamo. He’s not really my type though. That is what is actually kinda funny. But then again, I’m certainly not his type. So, maybe we could just be friends…lol..

FOUNDATIONS

Learning about Foundations is a very interesting thing to do. I usually wonder how these people were able to have these remarkable amounts of money saved up for the sole purpose of giving it away. I wonder if one day I can have a foundation named after me to give money to Economically disadvantaged youth making conscious efforts to obtain financial independence. Or some shit like that. I’d love to be so rich that I just decided to give it away.

I mean, what a thrill it must be to be in steady competition with yourself to make more money than you could have ever imagined and then seeing how long it takes to give it all away. Or even being dead and knowing that there is so much that it will take forever for it to be given away.

It’s a real cool thing. I have thirty to learn about within the next hour…so, ummmmmmmmm
I’ll holla..

On applying what you learn

When I was in college, I often found myself sitting in the library reading. I’d be dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, with a cup of coffee and three hi-lighters. I’d have huge books stacked on the table that I would delve into and re-read if I felt I missed something. I took my research seriously. I enjoyed learning. People didn’t understand the fascination. They would often approach me and ask if I really had to read those books for classes.

Fast Forward to Today…

Today finds me in a very similar position. I’ve entered a new field in which research is the most important part. However, I haven’t approached it with the same ferocity that I once did for school. The problem is, it is pertinent that I do approch it that way or else, I can lose grant opportunities, miss deadlines, and have people questioning my capabilities. I have about 30 organizations that I plan on soliciting for grants and I have absolutely no idea what they really do. I have not learned about them. I do not know their deadline dates by heart. I have not approached this like a real researcher should.

I’m disappointed in me. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I have approached a new position with this lackadasical attitude that I need to let die today. So, it’s 9:50am and I’ve made a decision to step my game up and to be the individual that they hired because they know that I can do this. I can’t throw all that I did in college out of the door, because in this situation, it is required that I begin to apply what I learned.

I need to make today a good day.

Unstable?

I was mad when my best friend “ran” away. I was sad when HE “ran” away. I was angry when my cuz MJ “ran” away. I never understood the reasoning behind it. Why would you choose to “run” when everything you love is right here? I hated them for it. I argued with them about it. I complained that they were being selfish for doing that. But in reality, the only person that was being selfish, was me. And more and more I realize that I have always been selfish and continue to remain that way. I would apologize for my selfishness, but I am hardly alone.

Running in this sense, is not the physical act of participating in a race. It is not in reference to operating something. It is simply, the act of moving away from and hiding from the realities that we don’t want to take on face to face. Running, in my best friend’s case, was to be back in the hands of a man that made her happy despite the fact that he was no good for her. Running, in HIS case, was away from a place where he did not feel as comfortable as I did. Running, in MJ’s case, was to figure out what she needed in life and realizing that she hadn’t found it in Albany; instead, she found the things that pushed her further from the future she saw for herself. Running, in my case, was because of the frustration I felt in not knowing what I wanted to do in life and having a job that did not reflect what I loved and that created anger in me. But more than the job front, I ran for my life because I fell hard for someone I shouldn’t have fallen for and couldn’t deal with the ramifications of that. I ran because I knew that I would screw it up (and I did) because I had to. I ran because, even when it was over, I still longed for it. I still craved the touch and the interaction. I still wanted it to belong to me, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be; and I couldn’t move on as usual unless I moved away. So I ran as far as my mind would allow me to.

I understand it now. I understand why sometimes we have to leave. Deborah Cox has this song with lyrics that say “We can’t be friends, cuz I’m still in love with you”. How those words resonate in my heart. But they are not true. If I’m in love with you, I think about you when I am near or far. It is easier when I am further because maybe, just maybe the distance and the new faces will begin to help me forget about the past, but then again, maybe not. I’ve been in many relationships in which it ended and we remained friends. I can’t really think of one where I have even entertained the thought of not speaking to him again or even where I would be jealous if he told me that he found someone and that he was happy. I have never been upset by that. But then again, I have seldom been in relationships where things started off so intensely, where I threw all “waiting long periods of time for sex” rules out the door and still felt more than a mere physical bond. Seldom have I been in relationships where I cared so much to please and didn’t care for it to be reciprocated. Seldom have I craved to hear a voice before I slept or to meet up somewhere at some crazy hour of the morning for a quickie. Seldom has that ever happened to me. So, seldom has it been hard to not be friends when everything was all said and done.

I have many friends who cannot be alone. When one man is gone, they NEED to have another lined up to take the other’s place. I’ve always wondered why it was so hard. Maybe they are constantly in intense relationships and the only way to forget about the past for them is to delve into a just as interesting future/present. Maybe that’s why I still can’t get over this. Maybe that’s why the running hasn’t provided the full effect that I believed it would. Maybe I need to find someone else that will take my mind off of the past. I can’t have the past. I shouldn’t even be dwelling on it. But I am.

So, excuse me for being a little unstable. I’m in a new place. I have a new life. I’m content in many senses. But they say that even the richest people in the world are not always happy. I understand it now. It is so painfully obvious now. I can portray happiness to the world, but what I am feeling inside is quite the opposite. My housemates often talk about the people with the “sad” eyes. I wonder if I am one of those people. I feel like the twinkle is gone and all that is left are eyes just gazing…