Saturday, March 26, 2005
The term is used so loosely that the original beauty of the concept is lost.
Out of billions and billions of people, how can JUST ONE man complete me? What are the odds of running into that person? Is our coincidental meeting destined in the stars? Was it written before time that I'd love just one man? Well, I'm not here to answer these questions... those were just rhetorical.
All through my first marriage, I believed desperately that he was THE ONE. He was that ONE MAN that could complete me. I believed, past tense, that my first husband was my soul mate. The man that connected to me on every level. Is that what a soul mate is? A connection? If that defines the term then it is safe to assume that our soul mates could be of the same gender? I don't know.
My first marriage ended in divorce. That connection between he and I was lost the minute we signed those papers. My ideas on living with and loving my soul mate had vanished. Cuz if he truly was my soul mate, we would have made it through ANY storm. So I came to the conclusion that 1 - either he wasn't my soul mate or 2 - the concept DID NOT exist.
My ex has served his purpose in my life. He wasn't my soul mate. That's for sure. I guess I can chalk it up as a learning experience. It really was. The hurt he caused me occasionally creeps up into my current relationship. I have to beat back all that hurt. Surely I cannot bring that baggage into what I have now. The man I love now should not be accountable for my hurt from the past.
L.A.W. makes me believe in soul mates cuz he just may be mine. Only after an eternity of being together can we really know if we were made for each other. I'm excited about our journey together cuz I believe in him as he believes in me. Thank you Lord for sending me my hero.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Lastnight, my cousin came in from Dallas. He has not been welcome at my folks house for years. Way back when, about 5 or 6 years ago, he came here to live with my folks because he was screwin' up in Dallas. My momz and pops don't play... and the whole family knows it. And like clockwork, he wore out his welcome here as he did with his mama. My father beat him down and told him to NEVER, EVER set foot on his property ever again.
Well, my folks are very tolerant, forgiving people. That's just how they are. Not pushovers... they just believe that people deserve a chance to prove themself. Me, on the other hand, could care less. And... that's the story on how cousin came here from Dallas.
He comes up to the crib at about 12midnight, lastnight... loud, obnoxious and cursin' up a storm. As he came towards me, he started staggering and I knew his ass was through. In my head, I'm already thinkin', "Imma definitely blog about this!!" LOL... I'm all irritated cuz this boy still hasn't mustered up enough manhood to become a responsible member of this family. Whateva! We chit chat for a minute cuz I'm tryin' not to let his drunken-ness get to me. I'm all for partying... if thas your thing. But please handle yourself accordingly.
So they get settled in and stuff. Me and husband are watching TV in the living room. All of a sudden I hear that noise... you know that one where you know somebody is about to throw up. That gurgling noise, then the pitter patter of feet, then the splash sound. Yep! He vomitted(i hate that word but it's so appropriate) all over the bathroom that I just cleaned earlier in the day.
In my head I'm going over all the rotten things this kid(in a mans body) has done to my family. Okay, there's the time he was trying to make wine in his bedroom. When really he was just fermenting grapes. Then there was the time my called me outta work to handle his dumb ass at the high school. Oh and yeah, the same kid was growin' weed in my folks back yard. All of these thoughts cross my mind as the "splashing" was happening, not once, not twice, not three times... four times! Yes... that's how much stuff was coming out of him.
I'm beyond irritated now cuz with all that "splashing" that went on, he couldn't have cleaned it up that quick. So husband and I sit there. (Moms and Pops are in Vegas and won't be in til Monday.) We're calmly discussing the mess that just went on. I'm telling him everything that's going on in my little brain. How disrespectful my cousin still is and how NOT EVERYBODY deserves a second chance.
Husband gets up and looks in the bathroom. The stench already put a funky expression on husbands face. Then anger crept across his mugg. He walks to the room and attempts to wake cousin up. He apparently knocked the hell out as soon as the "splashing" ended. His wife wakes up and is like, "Did he make a mess?" Hell yeah he made a mess. Why wasn't you checking up on him?
She comes out and does a half-ass job on cleaning up the bathroom. I mean... there was chunks of food everywhere. Vomit on the cabinets, in the sink, in the trash can, at the base of the toilet, on the toilet, in the toilet... it was just nasty. And don't get me started about the stench. **SMH** I stayed up til like 2 in the morning cleaning up after his wife's half-ass job and the stench is still lingering. I mopped it about 4 times with some Pine-Sol.... **throwing my hands up and shrugging**
So tell me, did he deserve this second chance to screw up again?
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
The rundown about my BooBoo, pictured with me above, is that she has been there for me without fail.... never tired of my tears... never tired of me leaning on her for strength. Sometimes I take it for granted that she's there cuz well, she's always been there. I don't mean to. I love her dearly -- in a way that very few people can understand. She was there through the nightmare of my first marriage... every step of the way. When it came crashing down, she was there helping me pick up the pieces. She was there through the turbulence of the divorce. Right along side me through my drunken stupor, in tears, drowning in self-pity. Don't get it twisted. We have had some hella good times as well. Lawdie, I can't even count ALLLLLL the memories we've made. No words could fully explain how I feel about her. God bless you, Mama (my pet name for her)!!!! What I learned from her that evening is that she is and will be my sister through all of eternity. Though we've moved on with other lives that may take us in different directions, she STILL understands me like no one else can. I never questioned that she'd be there for me. The Love Jones evening just reaffirmed it. I have been blessed!!!
BooBoo and I met Rico back in October of 2003. I was on my way out of Hawai'i. I barely knew him, but for me, instantly I connected to him... like we've BEEN knowing each other for years. That's how easy it was with Rico. Anyway, I knew I was leaving to St. Louis when we met Rico. He was so easy to talk that knowledge and truth flowed from me to him soooo easily. Basically, he knew ALL my business on like the first evening. I imagine that he has that effect on everyone he comes in contact with... just cuz he's that kinda guy. LOL. He gave me the best advice before I got married again. Simple. Easy. He told me to Follow My Heart. I'm glad I did!! So what did I learn from Rico on Love Jones night? I learned that he's seen alotta trouble in his days. Troubles that I can completely connect with. And he confirmed that he feels the same way about me... like we're siblings. That's truth!!!
Have yall seen the movie, Diary of a Mad Black Woman? that's my life in a nutshell. Me being Kimberly Elise and my current husband being Shemar Moore's character. Things happened between him and I soooo quick.
What did I learn from him on Love Jones evening? He asked Rico the following question: What is the one word that comes to mind the instant you think of BooBoo? Rico answered loyalty and the conversation played on. Later in the evening, out of nowhere, my husband said, "the one word that describes my wife when I look at her is WHOLESOME." He was serious as a heart attack. I almost gagged cuz I've never seen myself that way. In fact, I think I'm the exact opposite. But it doesn't matter how I see myself. He see's me as wholesome and I should thank my lucky stars for allowing him to see me in only that light.
I sat there and couldn't keep a straight face as he explained how he came to that conclusion. I was burning inside with unbelievable feelings that I couldn't comprehend. How did he see me as wholesome when I used to sit beside him with a 40oz. in hand drinking as much as he did? Well not that much... but I drank a whole lot. Was he naive to the fact that I was a hot-blooded woman that enjoyed the company of men? Did he block it out just to see me as a wholesome woman? With this new information, should I strive to become wholesome? Or have I already arrived because his perception of me is already there? **shrugs** I don't know.
What I do know is that I love my husband in such a different way than I've ever loved before. I love that he can hang with me and my friends and can make them his friends. I love that he feels the same way about me. I love that he has placed me on a pedestal. I feel adored. Revered. LOVED!!! I love how he sat there on Love Jones night going on and on about how much he loved me. Could it have just been the alcohol? Nope!!! Cuz he goes on and on about his love for me all the time.
I love you BooBoo and Rico. To my husband, my love for you has no beginning as it will never end. What we have is eternal. Forever. Beyond this world and the next. You are truth and I am so blessed to occupy the space next to you for the rest of my days.
The background on the following excerpt:
Time: between 1971 and 1975
Place: a little town in Indonesia
Setting: the author and his local Indonesian friends are sitting in a coffee house reviewing a play put on by the local dalang (a shaman that illustrates his prophecies and visions with puppets). The author is the ONLY American in attendence.
I asked them why they thought the dalang had singled out Muslim countries, except for Vietnam.
The beautiful English major laughed at this. "Because that's the plan."
"Vietnam is just a holding action," one of the men interjected, "like Holland was for the Nazis. A stepping-stone."
"The real target," the woman continued, "is the Muslim world."
I could not let this go unanswered. "Surely," I protested, "you can't believe that the Uniteed States is anti-Islamic."
"Oh no?" she asked. "Since when? You need to read on of your own historians - a Brit named Toynbee. Back in the fifties he predicted that the real war in the next century would not be between Communists and capitalists, but between Christians and Muslims."
"Arnold Toynbee said that?" I was stunned.
"Yes. Read Civilizations on Trial and The World and the West."
"But why should there be such animosity between Muslims and Christians?" I asked.
Looks were exchanged around the table. They appeared to find it hard to believe that I could ask such a foolish question.
"Because," she said slowly, as though addressing someone slow-witted or hard of hearing. "the West - especially its leader, the U.S. - is determined to take control of all the world, to become the greatest empire in history. It has already gotten very close to succeeding. The Soviet Union currently stands in its way, but the Soviets will not endure. Toynbee could see that. They have no religion, no faith, no substance behind their ideology. History demonstrates that faith - soul, a belief in higher powers- is essential. We Muslims have it. We have it more than anyone else in the world, even more than the Christians. So we wait. We grow strong."
"We will take our time," one of the men chimed in, "and then like a snake we will strike."
"What a horrible thought!" I could barely contain myself. "What can we do to change this?"
The English major looked me directly in the eyes. "Stop being so greedy," she said, "and so selfish. Realize that there is more to the world than your big houses and fancy stores. People are starving and you worry about oil for your cars. Babies are dying of thirst and you search the fashion magazines for the latest styles. Nations like ours are drowning in poverty, but your people don't even hear our cries for help. You shut your ears to the voices of those who try to tell you these things. You label them radicals or Communists. You must open your hearts to the poor and downtrodden, instead of driving them further into poverty and servitude. There's not much time left. If you don't change, you're doomed."
The previous excerpt resonates within me. Folks, America The Beautiful is not all that it cracks up to be. We are blind if we give into the countless false doctrine of the people that lead this country.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
I married him for all the wrong reasons. But he was just so confident that he could get me to love him. I was feeding off all that energy. LOL.
I married him for all the wrong reasons. But I love him now and I think I'm gonna love him for a long time.
Monday, March 14, 2005
I was 19 when I saw my first sea turtle in the wild.
My father and I have always bonded in the ocean. (I'll blog about the relationship between my father, myself and the ocean later.) One beautiful summer day we decided to go diving..... basically we got in the water with a snorkel, face mask, fins and a homemade 3-prong spear. The water was crystal clear that day. I mean you could see clear to the sandy bottom. It was like glass. There weren't any clouds in the sky and the sun was bright and shiny. It was PERFECT!
We got in the ocean and it was warm and clean. As you submerge, there is very little noise. I can hear my heart beat. I can hear myself breathe, at first they are shallow, quick breaths. Soon they calm to long, deep breaths. It is the most peaceful feeling in the world!
Pops and I were in the water for about 2 hours when we came up on this huge coral head. The water was about 20 feet deep so the coral head had to be at least 15 feet tall. It was huge. My father dived down to see if there were any big fish under the coral. I followed him halfway down. That's all I could handle because my ears started to pop.
All of a sudden I saw this huge shadow on the ocean floor. When I looked up, the creature casting the shadow was a green sea turtle. It was the most beautiful thing. I instantly called him Charlie. I believe HE told me his name! He looked like a bird in flight except it was slowed way down. My father scared him from beneath the coral head.
Charlie looked at me, winked, smiled and swam further off into the ocean. The sun framed his shape and I will never forget him. I have loved Charlie ever since and have only seen him once after our first meeting. I have seen other turtles but none of them have winked and smiled at me like Charlie.
Every replica of a sea turtle remind me of him. I left the ocean that day with this warm, fuzzy feeling inside and a love for my Charlie!
Saturday, March 12, 2005
It looks like I'm mean muggin' if I don't smile but really... my face just looks mean. It's not like I set out to have this mean look on my face. God made it that way. My father is the same way. Having that mean mugg has kind of been a blessing. I mean... folks are intimidated by my mean mugg and no one has tested to see if that mean mugg was just a front. I like it just like that cuz I'm really a peaceful person. At least I try to be. Confrontation is not really my thing.
When I look in the mirror... without the "from above" angle on pics... I got enough chins for me and my sister and my mama and her sisters. My face is fat which means I'm fat! Some days I don't mind and other days I just wanna hide under a really huge pillow.
My eyes are slanted and I kinda like that.... well... more accurately said... for now, I like my slant eyes. Catch me when I'm PMS'ing and the story might be told different. LOL.. The actual color of my eyes suits me just fine also. I don't match with blue, green or hazel eyes. The lashes could be a little thicker but I don't do the fake ones and the eyes are much too sensitive for mascara. The eyebrows... they're PERFECT! LOL. I hope I don't develop bags under my eyes. Thats thoroughly unattractive to me.
When I look at my face I see a big nose. I think the nose matches my big body and my huge, round face. It's not a nose that folks would get rhinoplasty for but it suits me. I remember this white dude said I had the hugest nose he has ever seen. Oddly enough, I wasn't offended because I love my nose. I seemed to have developed a little mole on the tip of my nose over the years. I know that wasn't there in high school. It kinda just creeped up on me.
When I look at my face... I see fat, chubby cheeks. Underneath all that fat somewhere are high cheekbones. Folks still pinch my cheeks like its the latest thing. **sigh** Get over it! You can't have the full cheeks.
The lips are okay. Could be a little fuller... but I'm trying to love what's already there.
Got a forehead but the hair hides the semi-shine beaming from it.
Facial Hair... Goodness gracious --> that is my curse! I pluck, wax and nair... and still can't keep up. Thank God for laser technology cuz one day soon I will be taking advantage of it! I am a hairy mutha... a "fur ball" as husband likes to call me. The euro blood that runs in my veins have cursed me!
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
2. I'm on my second marriage... already.
3. I have no kids of my own but I do have two step-children.
4. My first marriage was a big event. The second one... we eloped.
5. I love writing in my journal. Count this blog as one of them.
6. I was born and raised in Hawai'i.
7. I've lived in New Mexico, Kansas and Missouri.
8. I love the city of Atlanta and hope to own a home there one day.
9. The last movie I seen in a theatre was Diary Of A Mad Black Woman.
10. I enjoy rainy days!
11. I have too much hormones!
12. I love the ocean.
13. I love mountains.
14. The slowness of country life in Hawai'i is right on time for me.
15. I am very passionate about anything I'm passionate about.
16. I am a rape survivor
17. I collect anything that has green sea turtles on them. Not tortoises or land turtles! I like green sea turtles!!!
18. I have driven from California to Georgia.
19. I love homemade gifts and cards... especially if it's my birthday.
20. I have a dog named Sheba and she just had 8 puppies.
21. My favorite outfit is a pair of gray sweats and a black tank top.
22. I've always wanted to be taller.
23. I love people stories... which makes me a sucka for all these blogs.
24. I'm fat
25. I've been in love a million times and I don't intend to stop
26. I like my hair in its natural state -- bushy and all over the place. Folks say it makes me look unkept and sloppy but I love every curl and split end on my head.
27. I HATE make-up
28. I love pedicures
29. I don't like acrylic tips on my nails. My nails are always natural.
30. I can't shut up
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
If I question my adequacy to be my mate's life partner, is it possible that I'm more insecure than I let on? Why is it that when hubby and I have a spat I place blame on my personality? Then I submit to him. Does that imply that I rather have peace than be right... or am I secretly saying that my opinion isn't important enough?
I want to love him the way he would like me to love him but do I have to sacrifice who I am to be HER? What must I compromise and what is at the core of my personality quirks to cause aversion?
I have no solution.... just a sinking feeling in my stomach cause I'm so quick to take responsibility for all our arguments.