There's a little truth in everything ; )

...an old story... its LONG

He stood about a foot taller than everyone else in the crowd. Not sure if that was his 6'3'' frame or my eyes directing me to exactly what I had been looking for. I'd eyeballed him all night, watched how he nodded his head a little to the right then a little to the center with a swagger I've only known Jay-Z to possess. It didn't hurt that his track jacket was my favorite color, and a Brooklyn boy with a Yankees fitted can do no wrong. Yeah, I could tell he was from Brooklyn. Sat there for another few minutes, contemplating how I could get to know him. Definitely not the type of chick to just approach a guy out of the blue, maybe I should be though. Something to think about later.

Finally watched my partner in crime who was working the room the way only she could, give him a familiar pat on the arm and smile. JACKPOT! She knows him. Watched their interaction for a few minutes longer to be sure when I made my approach, I wasn't stepping on any toes. Nope. Everything was friendly and cordial on both ends. It was time for me to slide over.

Cut to our next encounter. At Bed, a nice little rooftop spot, and most definitely the appropriate setting for the thoughts running rampant in my brain. Knew he'd be there when I RSVP'd (just a hunch), and spotted him as soon as we waked in. Ran thru the routine, said hello to a bunch of peoples, exchanged hugs and kisses, snapped a few pics. Ran up on him. He was looking through me. Exchanged information that night on the strength of "networking", but we both knew exactly what it was.

Verbal conversations were few and far between, but the virtual ones were long, most times stimulating (aside from his face, I loved the things he had and planned to accomplish at work) and pregnant with innuendos and ambiguous statements. Neither of us wanting to put ourselves "out there" first, but clearly enjoying each others intellect and wit.

I was digging him, but generally try to stay away from industry dudes (that 'nother notch on the belt stigma does not sit well with me), so I was mildly torn. But at another event we were both attending we agreed that we needed to get some time in. Some real time. Not via Blackberries or over loud music at some random event pretending to just be cordial or discussing a potential work partnership.

So we did dinner. A nice dinner. Made eyes and flirted across the table, laughed loudly, great conversation, great food, great company. So great, I was beginning to wonder if we were placing ourselves in the "just friends" category. That's how cool it was. How cool he was. But the kiss that ended the night ignited some shit I hadn't felt in months (maybe even a year) and singed any thoughts of "just friendship". Went to bed with thee biggest smile on my face, couldn't sleep though.

Via email a few weeks later asked what I was up to. Playing hooky from work, light shopping on 34th (was out of underwear, and laundry was nowhere near the near future).

My office is on 33rd, come through.

Had to consider this real hard. Didn't exactly have on what I would have chosen to wear if I knew I would be seeing him. But didn't want to pass on the opportunity either. Ran my fingers thru my bangs and thought fuck it as I headed towards his building.

Gave my name and ID to the security guard, got a pass and pressed 17 in the elevator. He was standing by the receptionist desk yucking it up with a chick whose top cut way too low for her to be at work.

Cut to his office. His phone was ringing and Blackberry vibrating when we walked in. He grabbed the berry and picked up the phone simultaneously. Jay Strong* he answered fingering the berry.

A second later he put the Blackberry down and motioned for me to close the door. Finished up his call and said "What up miss?"

"Clearly you are" I replied.

He just shook his head and put his forehead in his hand.

"Tired? I asked"

"Yea, it’s been a long day. …need a hug."

Gladly obliged.

I walked towards him as he stood up. Stood on my tippy toes and reached my arms around his neck. He just stood there and looked at me. Was thinking about how sexy his eyes and lips were just as he verbalized the same things to me. That made me blush.

I looked down; he lifted my face upward with his pointer. Reached his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I placed mine where they felt they belonged, around his neck. Still holding me, he pulled back and kissed my nose. By that time if I tried to move I definitely would have tripped and busted my face on his desk, I could have sworn I felt my panties trickle down, forming a puddle around my ankles.

With everything he said he looked right into my eyes. A chick with a weaker mind would have been gone. I was barely holding on. I stared back into his feeling like I was earning stripes for being bold, because God knows I had to force myself to do so. We chit chatted and bull-shitted, he took calls, I played with my Blackberry. I took calls, he played with his. Before long it was close to 7. People were beginning to make their exit, and the office was becoming more and more deserted.

I excused myself and went to the ladies room, only to return to him on the phone. I had never seen the sun set behind the Empire State Building, his floor to ceiling windows provided a beautiful frame. I leaned in and bent over to get the bird’s eye view of the hustle and bustle of rush hour as New Yorkers glistened with that thin sheen that lays on your face but never falls, part perspiration part dirt, only to be found on the NYC subways platforms (The reason I excused myself to the ladies’). I took that opportunity to take in the view rather than be a part of it.

He told the person on the phone his view had just gotten better. I laughed. Wished we were at home, him in his boxers so I could slide out of my dress and sit on it. Shook that thought out of my head. He asked what's wrong. "Not a thing," I said.

I smiled but kept my eyes on the view below. I suspect he did the same.

I heard the phone receiver enter the cradle.

Felt a tug from behind. He pulled me right into his lap. Said he was hungry. But, we would never make it to dinner that night. Started talking more. Talking turned into flirting. Flirting turned into challenges and promises. Challenges and promises turned into words made good. Words made good turned into my hand prints streaked on that perfect picture of glistening New Yorkers. Don't know when he entered, but quite sure of when I came. Enjoying my view of the sunset behind the Empire State Building that much more.

*Did you really think I would tell you his name??

PackRat-ism

I suffer from a disorder disorder self diagnosed and named PackRat-ism. I want to keep everything, I always might need it later. But then, being a person who likes to spring clean year round, I have random moments of purging brought on by random incidents in my world. Sometimes these purges include items or people in my home, mind, or heart. This time around it will be items in my home. I can't take it anymore! I have way too much shit! This is no way for someone to live. Shit stacked and packed everywhere it seems. Dresser and desk draws filled to the brim with things I rarely wear, look at, or use. I won't even discuss my closet. By no means do I keep a nasty house but there is stuff in every corner of every room and I just need a light and airy space. It would make my brain feel better, especially at this moment. I need order.
Of course this need for order in the home only arises when disorder or the fear of disorder is on the rise elsewhere, and I feel it definitely is. Either way, its a good time for me to get all the elements of my life in order.
So on my wish list below is a big 2 bedroom apartment. Well I need to get rid of the "baggage" from this apartment so my new apartment is less "cluttered", I'm speaking literally and figuratively at this point.
My prayer at this point since I've been working on focusing and streamlining is that God has direction for me (which I'm sure He does) and will reveal that direction so I know which way I'm moving. That's all I can ask.

Just putting it in the universe...more to come

~Non-Valentine's Day related~
Its such a blessing how when you're not clear on what you want or should want, men have a way of eliminating themselves from the roster. God is good! I was caught up in some bullshit anyway. *sigh*

Hey Mama

Life comes at you fast. 2 Novembers ago , my mother was on her way to Europe. She continually asked me to be sure to check on my grandmother who had been ill. I assured her I would. When I went to check on my grandmother that night, long story short, she sent me home she told me she was fine (I should've known better). The next day I got a call, a family friend was taking her to the emergency room. I had to put my big girl shoes on. Not the ones with the velcro, but the ones I tie all by myself and with my cousin (my mother was out of the country, her mother [my aunt] lives out of the state) make decisions about my grandmother's health. Not an easy task, trust! There was no time for tears. We had to take care of business. It was the most pressure and pain I've ever felt in my life, and I've given birth. They sedated my grandmother and gave her a blood tranfusion...the last thing she did was wink at me. She was in the hospital a few days, and then I received a call 5 in the morning that she was gone.

Last week, my mother had been sick for a few days with the flu. She was really weak, not eating, or leaving the house. She didn't want me around much because she didn't want to get the baby sick, but I still went to check on her and bring her stuff. Wednesday, I'm running around with Ahmir to get stuff for his birthday/party the next day, and took him to get a haircut. His barber is on the corner of my mother block so we headed down the street to check on her. Her car was in the driveway, but she wasn't home. She'd been weak, so I knew she hadn't gone out , so I was immediately scared, and rightfully so. When I called her cell phone, i heard lots of fumbling and "It's her daughter" "Here take it" "No I can't talk" then someone finally got on the phone and said "Hi..hello..its blah blah, your mother is in the hospital." My heart sunk! All I asked was which one and told her I was on my way.
My mom had collapsed in the house and was unable to move. The doctors believe she lost consciousness, and when she didn't show up wherever she was trying to go, her friend came looking for her and found the front door to her house open and subsequently my mother. She was brought to the hospital in an ambulance.My mom was really sick. Like really really sick. At first the doctors didn't know what was wrong with her. Some were thinking mini-stroke, possibly a heart attack. Turns out she had pneumonia caused from something she got in the Bahamas and her liver and kidneys weren't functioning. Laying in that hospital bed, she looked just like my grandmother which scared the hell out of me. My grandmother's last few days in the hospital were not good, and her kidneys also shut down. My mom was disoriented, and anyone who knows her, knows that woman is tip top and about her shit. So to hear her talk and know that her brain wasn't really working with her or effectively was beyond disturbing. And here I am having to be the big girl again because its just me and my mom in NY. The past week has been extremely difficult for me, I've felt an era's worth of emotions all at one time. I wanted to crawl in my shell and hide and I couldn't. I wanted my son to have a birthday weekend full of fun, we had to settle for a party at school in between hospital runs. I've wanted to cry, but had to wait, and I've wanted to scream and curse, but had to remain polite and articulate. I wanted to just be the kid, I was still the kid, but I was now caregiver too.

By Sunday, my mom was much better, and she came home last night, but Kanye's grammy performance beyond MOVED me, it hit super close to home. To my knowledge, I've never come close to losing my mother. And I got damn close about a week ago. It's not something I ever expect to be prepared for, but this was sudden! What I was grateful for was that if the Lord did decide to call my mother home, our relationship is in a good place. It hasn't always been. So I'm glad that in the past few years I've been able to really see my mother's love for me, and her see mine for her. Hey Mama.

Streamlining

*From Wednesday*

I

I’m sitting at work watching Oprah and they’re discussing how The Laws of Attraction has affected people’s lives. How appropriate. I tend to talk more about what I’m not doing then what I am doing and what I want to do. And I have no problem remembering the exact details of how something went wrong, yet I can’t remember things I said I would do or should do to help me get ahead. I’ve realized the positive is not in the front of my mind, but the negative lives there. It’s definitely time to reverse that.

A re-occurring thought, theme, and process in my brain is streamlining. I’m extremely indecisive and interested in many things, which has made it difficult to settle on a career goal. What I’ve learned in the past few years is that I don’t have to settle on one, especially right now, but I would like to streamline in that area. My goal is to work on and try out a few different things to make it easier to figure out what I’m good at and what may not actually be for me. For the longest time, I wanted to be a writer. I then realized that writing was want I wanted to do because it was something my mother thought I was good at. I did excel in English and always loved to read but was never sure about deadlines; I’m one hell of a procrastinator.

My career goals are not the only things I would like to streamline, my waistline that definitely needs to be streamlined. Lol. My best friend and I discussed whether or not a person really wants something if they don’t do what it takes to get it. A cut and dry person would say “No, if they’re not willing to do what it takes, they don’t really want it”. I believe that this can be true, but that couldn’t possibly always be the case. Will power and motivation are not always easy to come by. I know first hand. But sometimes motivation can slap you upside your head via the words of a 2 almost 3 year old. The other morning when I was driving my son to school he began to squirm in his car seat and said “…..too fat!” I missed the first part of his sentence, but in my mind, I already thought I knew how the conversation would go:

Ahmir: “…too fat!”

Mommy: “Who’s too fat, Mir?”

Ahmir: “Me.”

Mommy: “You’re not fat at all, Ahmir.”

Instead, the conversation went like this:

Ahmir: “…too fat!”

Mommy: “Who’s too fat, Mir?”

Ahmir: “You.”

I sat dumfounded for a minute, and took 3 seconds to look back and forth between him and the road I should have been paying attention to, So completely shocked and caught off guard, I ask again, “Who’s too fat?”, and he responds again, matter of factly, “You.” For what seemed like minutes, my brain processed what the little boy I gave birth to said to me. I was speechless (a rare occurrence). So I ate it, so to speak. I know kids can be cruel/blunt/honest to a fault. I asked him if that was something he heard in school, because I’ve been very careful with that word in particular, and kind of waiting for the day he would come to realization. He said he hadn’t heard it in school, which confused me even more, so I just told him its not a nice thing to say to anyone and I don’t want to hear him say it again. His father told him to apologize and tell me he didn’t mean it, but the damage was done. I don’t want to be a fat mommy. I would hate for someone to say to him, “Your mommy is fat!” and it becomes something he is teased about. Teasing is not something that will be tolerated whether my child is on the giving or receiving end. I’m not having it! And while I’m not trying to become a size 2 (or even 4 for that matter. An 8 would be nice, 6 might be pushing it lol) for the sake of what some little people who haven’t even experienced the world may think of me, I would like to streamline for myself and still allow my son to see what a “real” woman looks like (love handles, cellulite, stretch marks, whatever the case may be). I am his first model of a woman; I take that role very seriously.

So while I’m streamlining and not allowing my brain to wander too much, I will make it my business to focus on this. Bulge is a battle I’ve been fighting my whole life, and trust! I don’t want to. But everyday I wake up is another day I have an opportunity to better myself.