If I ruled the blog world... hmm... I would soooooo do away with this task. It's driving me insane. There's nothing worse than saying out loud (or writing down) all the things I wish would happen and realizing that they never will. It's like envisioning the perfect wedding (yeah, I do it- so what?) or the most romantic proposal (yep, do that too- say something)... it NEVER turns out the way you hope. Anyway... enough of that. If I ruled the blog world, this is how it would be.
1. People would get a life. I mean a real life, not just the ones they watch other people have on television or read about other people having in their blogroll... a real live life. The kind of life where you go out and do things and see people and experience stuff and THEN come home and write about it. Not the kind of life where you just sit at home (or work) and make up shit to write about so you can say that you've written. And then berate others for not doing the same thing. GET A LIFE, BLOGGERS!!! And then you won't give a damn that I have one and am not sharing the inane minutae of it with you!!!!
2. People would stop gettin BUCK on my comment pages and then getting mad when I return the favor. Here's a tip (that you might or might not have noticed in your skip through Moniqueland): I am not a nice person. Fundamentally, just NOT NICE. I do nice things all the time. I look really nice alot of the time. And to the people who trouble to get to know me on a deeper level, I break tradition and actually AM NICE to them. But I am not really a nice person. So don't get all indignant and shocked when I say something to you on your comment page that you didn't really want to hear. Because if you were soliciting one opinion in particular, then you should've said that and I would've stayed away. But when two people are as fundamentally different as you and I seem to be, you can'tpossibly be surprised when we don't agree. Brush it off (like I do) and keep it moving.
3. People would realize that there are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
**got that??**
SO many other things to talk about besides celebrity gossip, yummalicious food, fantasmic outfits, and what other people are or are not wearing to school/work/church/the bar, wherever. Now I don't mind if that is the stuff that you want to talk about- I'll just adjust my expectations accordingly. I won't, then, be disappointed when day after day, that's all I get from you. But all I ask in return is that you not be mad when others begin to view you as the lastest source for all things material and shallow. Yesssss, I do understand that life isn't really all that serious all the time. Yesss, I do write about what I wore to a wedding, what I ate at a birthday party, and how much I hate the people who choose to patronize my place of business... SOMETIMES. But other times I write about (and here's a novel concept): MY FEELINGS!!! I write about love and loss and death and life and disappointment and joy and memories and friendships and... I don't know; shit that people actually want to know. I thought that blogging was supposed to be a reflection of real life; a written interpretation of what people think and how they live exposed to others. I'm not saying that you have to give a daily recap of what angle he (or she) penetrated you last night or how much you wanted to run over him (or her) with your car when he left you or how you felt like your heart had been torn in half when your mother died (damn... maybe that shit just happens to me, lol!). But please, please, PLEASE keep it real. Let us in!! So what if we make jokes? Maybe that's our way of coping. So what if we read and don't comment? Maybe we don't know exactly what to say, so we just send up a prayer instead. So what if we know that somewhere in Philadelphia/Dallas/Atlanta/New York/Los Angeles there is someone who did something incredibly stupid? THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!!!! You aren't perfect, and I still hold out the tiniest bit of hope that you aren't that boring... so SHARE!!
That's what people would do if I ruled the blog world.
P.S. If you read this and feel like it applies to you, then it probably does. Don't sit around and dream up clever, yet hateful comments to post on my page. Just embrace it. Then make the requisite changes ASAP!!
Monday, March 31, 2008
I just wanted to give you guys a quick peek at the shoes that I wore yesterday to stomp out the devil, lol. These shoes are my liiiiiiiiiife!!!!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Wednesday is Bored Day
"Sir, by law the DEA number must be written by the doctor or pre-printed on the prescription."
"Well can't you just write it in?"
And so goeth my 12-hour day at the pharmacy.
"I'm going to send all of my patients to another pharmacy!"
"Okay, sir. I'll try to remember that every Friday morning when I'm depositing my paychecks."
Too harsh? Oh well... Blame the lemons. Or maybe it's the cayenne... Whatever.
I finished this week's book early, thanks to a very slow store. "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult was mainly about a man who killed his terminally ill wife after she'd asked him to end her suffering. There were some really interesting subplots too, but... Oh never mind. I write a terrible book review and you guys don't care anyway. This week is La's recommendation, "The Emperor of Ocean Park" by Stephen L. Carter.
Let's see, what else? Ah yes... Still drumming my fingers for the next task of Making the Blog. Although I can't really be sure if there's any need to continue... Our team RAVAGED the competition last week.
Eight more days until the Suntan Express sets sail- yay!!
"Well can't you just write it in?"
And so goeth my 12-hour day at the pharmacy.
"I'm going to send all of my patients to another pharmacy!"
"Okay, sir. I'll try to remember that every Friday morning when I'm depositing my paychecks."
Too harsh? Oh well... Blame the lemons. Or maybe it's the cayenne... Whatever.
I finished this week's book early, thanks to a very slow store. "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult was mainly about a man who killed his terminally ill wife after she'd asked him to end her suffering. There were some really interesting subplots too, but... Oh never mind. I write a terrible book review and you guys don't care anyway. This week is La's recommendation, "The Emperor of Ocean Park" by Stephen L. Carter.
Let's see, what else? Ah yes... Still drumming my fingers for the next task of Making the Blog. Although I can't really be sure if there's any need to continue... Our team RAVAGED the competition last week.
Eight more days until the Suntan Express sets sail- yay!!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Book Club III
Sooooo... it's Thursday. Yesterday I was supposed to post about the one woman book club (thanks soooooo much, Mini, for abandoning the ship!), but I honestly forgot. I finished "The Pillars of the Earth" yesterday morning while I was on the train on my way to the city. I kinda loved it. Better than liked it, didn't quite LOVE IT, but I kinda loved it. I deliberately didn't read anything about the book in advance, so I had no clue what the story was even about. I never saw Oprah talk about it on her show, and I tried not to even look too closely at the cover art for fear that it would give something away. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't my normal type of read (murder, mystery, crime, medicine, something dramatic) because the first section started in the damn 1100's in England. Umm... okay. But I gave "Braveheart" a chance and ADORED it, so I figured that I owed this book at least that much. Six days later, I finished, and like I said, I kinda loved it. The characters were interesting, the plot kept me involved... the only thing was the details about the architecture... had to blow past those paragraphs. I simply cannot get motivated about buttresses and spirals and carvings and... what? Oh I'm sorry, I just fell asleep for a minute.
Bottom line? Good book. A little long, but it never actually SEEMED long. I was done before I knew it and I wasn't mad about spending the week reading it. I recommend it. Next week, "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult.
Bottom line? Good book. A little long, but it never actually SEEMED long. I was done before I knew it and I wasn't mad about spending the week reading it. I recommend it. Next week, "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Mindless Comedy
Television quote of the day:
"Okay Tina: bitch may very well be the new Black. But Black is the new President, bitch."
-Tracey Morgan, Saturday Night Live
"Okay Tina: bitch may very well be the new Black. But Black is the new President, bitch."
-Tracey Morgan, Saturday Night Live
Friday, March 14, 2008
Pastor's Rantings
I was on my way to the car dealership this morning to get my ar serviced, and I was listening to Miss Jones in the Morning (first mistake). They were talking about whether or not some comments made by a pastor in Harlem were appropriate in the church. Apparently this man was preaching his regular sermon and went off on a tangent about Barack Obama. By this point, I was all ears and very frustrated because they'd already played the audio and I'd missed it. I gave up and flipped to Steve Harvey only to find out that he's on vacation today, so I flipped back. And that's when I heard this (all letters capitalized to denote the amount of emphasis put on the words):
"Obama is a MACK DADDY! Obama is a PIMP!! All he does is pimp young big-breasted white woman and put them in tight tshirts and little shorts with his name written across their 54-DD's! That's what a pimp does! That's what Barack Obama does! That's the first time anybody ever heard his name? When they saw them on a pair of big ol' TITS!!!"
****errrrr??****
A pimp? A mack daddy? Seriously? I can only assume that he was making reference to the so-called "Obama Girls" who got popular last year (I think) on the Internet when they were supporting his candidacy. But honestly... 54-DD's? I just can't. A man of God is standing in the pulpit and sharing his political views (which although inappropriate, is well within his rights), but to say the things that came out of his mouth? It was soooo much. I'm still at the dealership now, but I'll try and see if I can find audio when I get homeso you'll see I didn't make this stuff up!
So Barack Obama is a pimp? Well... here's my vote, daddy.
"Obama is a MACK DADDY! Obama is a PIMP!! All he does is pimp young big-breasted white woman and put them in tight tshirts and little shorts with his name written across their 54-DD's! That's what a pimp does! That's what Barack Obama does! That's the first time anybody ever heard his name? When they saw them on a pair of big ol' TITS!!!"
****errrrr??****
A pimp? A mack daddy? Seriously? I can only assume that he was making reference to the so-called "Obama Girls" who got popular last year (I think) on the Internet when they were supporting his candidacy. But honestly... 54-DD's? I just can't. A man of God is standing in the pulpit and sharing his political views (which although inappropriate, is well within his rights), but to say the things that came out of his mouth? It was soooo much. I'm still at the dealership now, but I'll try and see if I can find audio when I get homeso you'll see I didn't make this stuff up!
So Barack Obama is a pimp? Well... here's my vote, daddy.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Morning my beauties! Today is a day of rest... well, not really rest because I'm not off, but I'm working at a store that fills 25-35 prescriptions a day (in a 12-hour shift). In case you're wondering, that is very VERY slow, so... thought I'd pop in and say hello.
First off, virtual book club. "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult this week. I loved it. Couldn't put it down. To give you an idea of just how great I thought it was, I went to heaven yesterday (commonly known as Barnes and Noble!) and bought everything she has written (13 new books... yay!). Anyway... "Nineteen Minutes" is a work of fiction about a high school shooting in New England. Right off, you're probably either saying to yourself "that's too much for light reading, no thanks!" or (like me) "ooh... brave choice, let's do it." The characters are so real and relatable... even though I can't claim a memory of even a single incidence of childhood torture that this boy experienced, I felt his story... and I felt sorry for him. The book is a bit like the movie "Vantage Point" (if you haven't seen it, I recommend that too) in that it jumps around in time and keeps returning to the day of the shooting. But instead of confusing you, each trip backwards and forwards helps to fill in the holes of the story and you get a fuller view of the characters. I don't know... the very idea of a shooting at a school where I (or my children) go to school sends chills down my spine. But this book tells the story without seeming sensational and without making you feel like you've heard it all before. Check it out... it really is a fantastic read.. I started "The Pillars of the Earth" yesterday, so I guess that will be the book for this week... all 973 pages!!
Today is the 12th, so only 23 more days until the cruise, yay! I went to Old Navy last week when I went into the city (haven't been there in FAR too long) and saw all kinds of stuff that they didn't have in Jersey. So I bought some summer clothes which is SUCH a step for me because I do NOT wear shorts and stuff in the summer! I was a late comer to the Old Navy bandwagon, but they have such bright pretty colors this season and they carry my size all the time (a minor miracle in and of itself, lol), so I'm a fan. Bought shorts and tank tops and a dress and flip flops and... sorry! I love new clothes. So now all I need for my trip is suntan lotion and travel size toiletries (damn those airlines!!).
So Barack Obama won Mississippi yesterday... kudos. Also looks like they've credited the Texas Caucus to him... finally. Something about those primary results down there still doesn't sit quite well with me, but oh well... he wouldn't have come out much better with the delegate count anyway because the numbers were so close and Texas isn't a winner-take-all state, so... onward and upward. I heard the audio from Geraldine Ferraro's comments about Obama's candidacy this morning on the radio. Booooooooooo and hissssss. She's just bitter because she wasn't the woman who broke the mold and now she's hating on Barack for having a shot now. "If he weren't Black or if he were a woman of any color, would he be in this situation?" Umm... yeah. Heard of a woman named Hillary Clinton? She's in this situation. **sigh** It's a shame that prominent Democrats (even those who's time has passed) are hating on Senator Obama because he has developed such a following. A damn shame.
Yesterday was supposed to be the long awaited day that I got my shiny new red Blackberry Curve 8310 because my indentured servitude with Verizon.. I mean my two year contract... is finally up. But alas- it was not to be. Best Buy was completely out of SIM cards for Verizon and AT&T phones, so they were only able to do new Sprint contracts. **tear** So thanks to that and a little tip from Will Smith the wireless guy (his real name, I asked!), I'm riding out with this one until March 30. CURSES!!! I neeeeeeed the red phone in my life!
And lastly (for now), speaking of the color red: my best friend called and told me that she had her interview for the Sorority the other day... YAY! I've been trying to get her to join since she was a sophomore (I wasn't even in yet!) and her mom has been trying since she joined a few years ago... gotcha! I'm so excited that she finally slowed down enough to do it. **running off in a mad search for elephants and red stuff**
First off, virtual book club. "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult this week. I loved it. Couldn't put it down. To give you an idea of just how great I thought it was, I went to heaven yesterday (commonly known as Barnes and Noble!) and bought everything she has written (13 new books... yay!). Anyway... "Nineteen Minutes" is a work of fiction about a high school shooting in New England. Right off, you're probably either saying to yourself "that's too much for light reading, no thanks!" or (like me) "ooh... brave choice, let's do it." The characters are so real and relatable... even though I can't claim a memory of even a single incidence of childhood torture that this boy experienced, I felt his story... and I felt sorry for him. The book is a bit like the movie "Vantage Point" (if you haven't seen it, I recommend that too) in that it jumps around in time and keeps returning to the day of the shooting. But instead of confusing you, each trip backwards and forwards helps to fill in the holes of the story and you get a fuller view of the characters. I don't know... the very idea of a shooting at a school where I (or my children) go to school sends chills down my spine. But this book tells the story without seeming sensational and without making you feel like you've heard it all before. Check it out... it really is a fantastic read.. I started "The Pillars of the Earth" yesterday, so I guess that will be the book for this week... all 973 pages!!
Today is the 12th, so only 23 more days until the cruise, yay! I went to Old Navy last week when I went into the city (haven't been there in FAR too long) and saw all kinds of stuff that they didn't have in Jersey. So I bought some summer clothes which is SUCH a step for me because I do NOT wear shorts and stuff in the summer! I was a late comer to the Old Navy bandwagon, but they have such bright pretty colors this season and they carry my size all the time (a minor miracle in and of itself, lol), so I'm a fan. Bought shorts and tank tops and a dress and flip flops and... sorry! I love new clothes. So now all I need for my trip is suntan lotion and travel size toiletries (damn those airlines!!).
So Barack Obama won Mississippi yesterday... kudos. Also looks like they've credited the Texas Caucus to him... finally. Something about those primary results down there still doesn't sit quite well with me, but oh well... he wouldn't have come out much better with the delegate count anyway because the numbers were so close and Texas isn't a winner-take-all state, so... onward and upward. I heard the audio from Geraldine Ferraro's comments about Obama's candidacy this morning on the radio. Booooooooooo and hissssss. She's just bitter because she wasn't the woman who broke the mold and now she's hating on Barack for having a shot now. "If he weren't Black or if he were a woman of any color, would he be in this situation?" Umm... yeah. Heard of a woman named Hillary Clinton? She's in this situation. **sigh** It's a shame that prominent Democrats (even those who's time has passed) are hating on Senator Obama because he has developed such a following. A damn shame.
Yesterday was supposed to be the long awaited day that I got my shiny new red Blackberry Curve 8310 because my indentured servitude with Verizon.. I mean my two year contract... is finally up. But alas- it was not to be. Best Buy was completely out of SIM cards for Verizon and AT&T phones, so they were only able to do new Sprint contracts. **tear** So thanks to that and a little tip from Will Smith the wireless guy (his real name, I asked!), I'm riding out with this one until March 30. CURSES!!! I neeeeeeed the red phone in my life!
And lastly (for now), speaking of the color red: my best friend called and told me that she had her interview for the Sorority the other day... YAY! I've been trying to get her to join since she was a sophomore (I wasn't even in yet!) and her mom has been trying since she joined a few years ago... gotcha! I'm so excited that she finally slowed down enough to do it. **running off in a mad search for elephants and red stuff**
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Book Club
Anybody remember Book Club? It was supposed to be yesterday, but I fell asleep, so.... done with this book. Now I'm starting "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Barbados, Part Three
And so my trip to Barbados turned out to be the very thing I was afraid of. It didn't matter how fabulous I looked, how much effort I put into seeming like the beautiful, carefree girl he had fallen in love with. It didn't matter that he did end up coming alone. I ended up leaving alone. My heart was torn into a million pieces and I couldn't even talk to my best friend about it because he was the one who did the damage. The man who said he would never hurt me, the man who said he would love me forever, couldn't even look me in the eye and say hello.
So that is when I realized that it was truly over. No more mooning over old pictures and thinking about what could have been. He made his decision, and that decision was final. No more listening to the people who said that he'd be back; I just needed to give him some time and space. Bullshit. G was gone. He had been gone in his mind for a very long time, and I was the last to really get it. But I got it. So goodbye.
So that is when I realized that it was truly over. No more mooning over old pictures and thinking about what could have been. He made his decision, and that decision was final. No more listening to the people who said that he'd be back; I just needed to give him some time and space. Bullshit. G was gone. He had been gone in his mind for a very long time, and I was the last to really get it. But I got it. So goodbye.
Barbados, Part Two
It is so beautiful here. Everything is so lush and green, the colors are so vibrant, and the people are so.... NICE. This is going to be okay, this trip is going to be fine. So what if the man that I love is coming in less than 24 hours, and I have no idea whether or not he is coming alone. He wouldn't do that, anyway, would he? He wouldn't bring a new girlfriend all the way to Barbados for his sister's wedding, would he? Not the man who never introduced a women to his parents before me... that guy wouldn't bring just any old body from California to Barbados to parade in front of his closest riends and family (and ME). Right? Well... guess we'll just have to see. But in the mean time, this Barbados thing is alright with me.
A few hours later, I have arrived at the hotel and taken a short nap. G's mom is my roomate for the evening until everyone else gets in and we move to the villas on the other side of the island. I spent the evening on the beach with my journal, crying. What the fuck? Why did I even do this to myself? This was the world's WORST idea EVER. I came all the way over here, and I am going to go home the same way I left: alone and broken. Well, at the very least, I am going to try. Everyone here knows that G and I used to be together. Most of his sister's friends have become my friends as well, so they're supportive. They all know how I feel about him, so they've resolved to keep us away from each other and me entertained until the minute I get on the plane to go back home. **DEEP SIGH**
I've done the best I can with tonight's look. Tight black capris and a black sequined top designed to advertise my limited assets while simultaneously giving the people "cocktail" and "elegant." Rhinestone sandals, silver hoops, and a black alligator clutch complete the look. Tonight is the welcome reception, and the first time that I will see G since he arrived on the island. I mingle a little, stop here and there and greet family members I haven't seen in a while; thankfully no one asks me about G. I go for a short walk around the property, pray by the pool for a bit, then head back to the party. And it's then that I feel him. Like a physical presence on my skin, I feel him. Before I even heard his laugh ring out over the noise of the gathering, I feel him looking at me. There's a heat between my shoulder blades like someone is prodding me with a blazing fire poker, but when I turn around, there's no one there. My heart siezes up and I have to touch the wall for balance because I know that he is here. Every feeling that I have tried to suppress for the last 10 months is suddenly bubbling to the surface, because I catch a glimpse of a light blue button up and khaki shorts in the distance. The crowd shifts and I see more of his beautiful bald head and his brilliant smile that warmed me so many cold days. He has arrived. I was determined not to go over to him; if he wants to speak, then he will.
But he didn't. A group of us left the party and went into town to have drinks and dance at a lounge. At this point, my nerves are so tightly wound that I think I will break if I bend the wrong way. But I still can't go over to him, I won't let him have that victory. I see him heading my way, and I brace myself for the impact. He gives the group a general hello and reaches out his hand to me for a quick squeeze. Ladies, you know how you see someone that you know vaguely as you are moving through a crowd, so you extend your left hand and briefly squeeze theirs? Yeah, like that. And maybe a quick, "Hey, how are you?" I really don't remember. But what I do remember is the pain, like a sudden and very forceful thrust to my chest. This person that I laid awake and watched sleep, this man I shared every single one of my hopes and dreams with, this man who has helped me to pick up the pieces of my life and put me back together again, just squeezed my hand and kept it moving. Like I was nothing. Nothing at all. Like I had never been anything.
And it only got worse. I gave what was possibly my best fashion performance EVER at the wedding. People I had never met were stopping to ask where I got my skirt, family members were crossing the room to say how beautiful I looked, even the older people were complimenting me on my choices. But all I wanted was for him to notice me. All I needed to make me happy was for him to look over and catch my eye and smile, just for a minute. Maybe to come over and say, "Wow Mo, you really look beautiful." No dice. He avoided me like I was a pariah. I had to watch him during the entire ceremony, so handsome in his tuxedo at the altar, so beautiful as he sang his sister's favorite song. My mind started to wander, maybe it was the Barbados sun, maybe it was my silly lovestruck brain, but I imagined the two of us standing before the people that we loved, exchanging vows of intimacy and forever. A tear escaped my eye as I thought about how desperately I just wanted one more chance to be to him the woman that he wanted. I pulled it together somehow before anyone noticed, but I don't remember much else about that night. I just know that he never came over to me, not even once, to say hello. He never caught my eye across the crowded dance floor and motioned for me to join him. He never looked, even for a second, like he even knew that I was there.
A few hours later, I have arrived at the hotel and taken a short nap. G's mom is my roomate for the evening until everyone else gets in and we move to the villas on the other side of the island. I spent the evening on the beach with my journal, crying. What the fuck? Why did I even do this to myself? This was the world's WORST idea EVER. I came all the way over here, and I am going to go home the same way I left: alone and broken. Well, at the very least, I am going to try. Everyone here knows that G and I used to be together. Most of his sister's friends have become my friends as well, so they're supportive. They all know how I feel about him, so they've resolved to keep us away from each other and me entertained until the minute I get on the plane to go back home. **DEEP SIGH**
I've done the best I can with tonight's look. Tight black capris and a black sequined top designed to advertise my limited assets while simultaneously giving the people "cocktail" and "elegant." Rhinestone sandals, silver hoops, and a black alligator clutch complete the look. Tonight is the welcome reception, and the first time that I will see G since he arrived on the island. I mingle a little, stop here and there and greet family members I haven't seen in a while; thankfully no one asks me about G. I go for a short walk around the property, pray by the pool for a bit, then head back to the party. And it's then that I feel him. Like a physical presence on my skin, I feel him. Before I even heard his laugh ring out over the noise of the gathering, I feel him looking at me. There's a heat between my shoulder blades like someone is prodding me with a blazing fire poker, but when I turn around, there's no one there. My heart siezes up and I have to touch the wall for balance because I know that he is here. Every feeling that I have tried to suppress for the last 10 months is suddenly bubbling to the surface, because I catch a glimpse of a light blue button up and khaki shorts in the distance. The crowd shifts and I see more of his beautiful bald head and his brilliant smile that warmed me so many cold days. He has arrived. I was determined not to go over to him; if he wants to speak, then he will.
But he didn't. A group of us left the party and went into town to have drinks and dance at a lounge. At this point, my nerves are so tightly wound that I think I will break if I bend the wrong way. But I still can't go over to him, I won't let him have that victory. I see him heading my way, and I brace myself for the impact. He gives the group a general hello and reaches out his hand to me for a quick squeeze. Ladies, you know how you see someone that you know vaguely as you are moving through a crowd, so you extend your left hand and briefly squeeze theirs? Yeah, like that. And maybe a quick, "Hey, how are you?" I really don't remember. But what I do remember is the pain, like a sudden and very forceful thrust to my chest. This person that I laid awake and watched sleep, this man I shared every single one of my hopes and dreams with, this man who has helped me to pick up the pieces of my life and put me back together again, just squeezed my hand and kept it moving. Like I was nothing. Nothing at all. Like I had never been anything.
And it only got worse. I gave what was possibly my best fashion performance EVER at the wedding. People I had never met were stopping to ask where I got my skirt, family members were crossing the room to say how beautiful I looked, even the older people were complimenting me on my choices. But all I wanted was for him to notice me. All I needed to make me happy was for him to look over and catch my eye and smile, just for a minute. Maybe to come over and say, "Wow Mo, you really look beautiful." No dice. He avoided me like I was a pariah. I had to watch him during the entire ceremony, so handsome in his tuxedo at the altar, so beautiful as he sang his sister's favorite song. My mind started to wander, maybe it was the Barbados sun, maybe it was my silly lovestruck brain, but I imagined the two of us standing before the people that we loved, exchanging vows of intimacy and forever. A tear escaped my eye as I thought about how desperately I just wanted one more chance to be to him the woman that he wanted. I pulled it together somehow before anyone noticed, but I don't remember much else about that night. I just know that he never came over to me, not even once, to say hello. He never caught my eye across the crowded dance floor and motioned for me to join him. He never looked, even for a second, like he even knew that I was there.
Barbados, Part One
"You are cordially invited to a union of hearts. The parents of NJC request the honor of your presence at the wedding of their daughter to Mr. JLC at four o'clock in the afternoon of May 6, 2006 in Barbados."
And that is where the fun began.
My ex-boyfriend's sister is geting married to the love of her life, and in order to be a part of the festivities, I have to spend five days and four nights with the love of mine. One caveat: I am no longer the love of his. Bah. Did I mention that this lovely little union will be taking place in Barbados. Sun, ocean, drinks, steel drums (I think), general debauchery. But no sex, though. **sigh**
As a quick recap, I dated G for a little over a year, but we were best friends since college. When we finally got ourselves together to try and make a go at a relationship, I was in school in Virginia and he was finishing school in Maryland. It had been clear to everyone who knew us that we belonged together, but apparently we were the last to get the memo. So after about five years of heavy flirting and some wonderful benefits to the friendship, we agreed to commit to each other and see where it went from there. Two years later, I was still in Virginia and he had moved to California, when he decided that "it just wasn't working." Umm.... okay. G really was my soul mate; I had loved him like I had never loved anyone else, and I was firmly convinced that I would never love another. But he didn't want any parts of me, and the more I pushed, the more he pulled away. So back to the wedding.
I was so torn up over whether I should go. On the one hand, this was the trip that I always imagined G and I would take together. Holding hands on the beach at sunset, taking naps in the hammock on our balcony, dancing until the wee hours of the morning at the reception... when his sister got engaged, we were still together, so this was going to be our trip. But now "we" were just "him" and "me." I loved him so much that it made my heart hurt, and I wanted to go to Barbados more than anything. But the two of us hadn't talked in months, and I didn't want to be that one girl at the wedding who was always off by herself crying and looking miserable. But I deserved this trip, right? I paid for it, it was a week before my graduation, and what better way to celebrate my pending entry into a whole new (and hopefully better) life? So at the last available minute, I decided yes. I packed my best bathing suits and headed for the airport.
And that is where the fun began.
My ex-boyfriend's sister is geting married to the love of her life, and in order to be a part of the festivities, I have to spend five days and four nights with the love of mine. One caveat: I am no longer the love of his. Bah. Did I mention that this lovely little union will be taking place in Barbados. Sun, ocean, drinks, steel drums (I think), general debauchery. But no sex, though. **sigh**
As a quick recap, I dated G for a little over a year, but we were best friends since college. When we finally got ourselves together to try and make a go at a relationship, I was in school in Virginia and he was finishing school in Maryland. It had been clear to everyone who knew us that we belonged together, but apparently we were the last to get the memo. So after about five years of heavy flirting and some wonderful benefits to the friendship, we agreed to commit to each other and see where it went from there. Two years later, I was still in Virginia and he had moved to California, when he decided that "it just wasn't working." Umm.... okay. G really was my soul mate; I had loved him like I had never loved anyone else, and I was firmly convinced that I would never love another. But he didn't want any parts of me, and the more I pushed, the more he pulled away. So back to the wedding.
I was so torn up over whether I should go. On the one hand, this was the trip that I always imagined G and I would take together. Holding hands on the beach at sunset, taking naps in the hammock on our balcony, dancing until the wee hours of the morning at the reception... when his sister got engaged, we were still together, so this was going to be our trip. But now "we" were just "him" and "me." I loved him so much that it made my heart hurt, and I wanted to go to Barbados more than anything. But the two of us hadn't talked in months, and I didn't want to be that one girl at the wedding who was always off by herself crying and looking miserable. But I deserved this trip, right? I paid for it, it was a week before my graduation, and what better way to celebrate my pending entry into a whole new (and hopefully better) life? So at the last available minute, I decided yes. I packed my best bathing suits and headed for the airport.
Making the Blog
In case you're wondering, this one is under pressure. As a member of Jizzy's Making the Band (go Team Diva!), my first challenge is to write a three part story with "all the elements of a cliffhanger." Err???? This is much more La's forte than mine, but she's on my team, so maybe she'll make us proud. You know what- I'ma be on some real rebellious, fuck you, I ain't walking to Brooklyn to get you no damn cheesecake type shit... I'm only giving you two parts. So there! **nah nanny boo boo**
Part 1
I can't do it. Sorry, I tried. Honestly, I did. For two hours, I tried. And I got nothing. Please don't eliminate me Jizzy.
Part 1
I can't do it. Sorry, I tried. Honestly, I did. For two hours, I tried. And I got nothing. Please don't eliminate me Jizzy.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Saturday Night Live Plays the Hits
I saw a skit last night that was a parody of the Ohio Debate last week between Clinton and Obama. The premise of the jokes was pretty amusing, but one thing kinda rubbed me the wrong way: with all of the out of work Black actors in the New York area, why couldn't they hire one to play Barack Obama? They chose a white actor and slapped a little foundation on him. I guess that was probably the unspoken part of the jokes, but I didn't find that part funny. Anyway... I was looking for this last night as soon as I saw it on Saturday Night Live, but it wasn't up yet. Disregard the beginning few seconds because, to be honest, it's foolishness. But it was the only copy of the skit I could find on youtube. I thought this was HILARIOUS. Enjoy...
CHU'UCH!!!!!!!!!!
I went to church this morning. It's no secret that I wish that I could go more often, but with this job, I usually have to work every other weekend. Coincidentally, I have been out of town for the last two weekends I had off, so I missed church then too. Anyway, I went this morning. I have never been the person who was all gung ho about going to church on Sunday mornings. I grew up in the church with my mother, so it was really never a choice kind of thing. But when I got to be an adult with my own means of transportation and my own schedule, my church attendance started to slip. I am one of those people who is moved the most by the music; if the choir is good, it really doesn't even matter what the pastor is saying, I've got what I came for. When I joined Morning Star, I was really blessed to be able to get both. The recording choir here is amazing (and I'm not biased just because Bishop sings with them!), and the pastor is second to none. The church isn't too large, and I always leave feeling better than when I came.
So this morning, the choir sang one of my favorite songs by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers, "The Blessing of Abraham."
I SOOOOOO love this song. Now I have never been the get up and clap you rhands kind of worshipper... I grew up in the Episcopal church, so you can imagine how quiet and reserved that experience was. But there is something about this song that never fails to get me up out of my pew. So as if that wasn't enough of a message for me, I then got this song, also by Donald Lawrence and his choir called "Bless Me..."
So I had to ask myself, what is this inheritance that I love to sing about so much? What is it that the Lord has in store for me? And when I am praying for him to enlarge my territory, what exactly is it that I want? That's my problem... I am afraid that my inheritance might have passed me by and I wasn't paying attention and missed it.
There was a point to this post; I started off with a very specific message, but it's gone now. I'll just leave you guys with some songs that inspire me with the hope that they will do the same for you.
"Encourage Yourself" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers
"Giants" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers
"For Every Mountain" by Kurt Carr and the Kurt Carr Singers
"God Blocked It" by Kurt Carr feat. Yolonda Adams
"Yesterday" by Mary Mary
"Can't GIve Up Now" by Mary Mary
So this morning, the choir sang one of my favorite songs by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers, "The Blessing of Abraham."
I SOOOOOO love this song. Now I have never been the get up and clap you rhands kind of worshipper... I grew up in the Episcopal church, so you can imagine how quiet and reserved that experience was. But there is something about this song that never fails to get me up out of my pew. So as if that wasn't enough of a message for me, I then got this song, also by Donald Lawrence and his choir called "Bless Me..."
So I had to ask myself, what is this inheritance that I love to sing about so much? What is it that the Lord has in store for me? And when I am praying for him to enlarge my territory, what exactly is it that I want? That's my problem... I am afraid that my inheritance might have passed me by and I wasn't paying attention and missed it.
There was a point to this post; I started off with a very specific message, but it's gone now. I'll just leave you guys with some songs that inspire me with the hope that they will do the same for you.
"Encourage Yourself" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers
"Giants" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers
"For Every Mountain" by Kurt Carr and the Kurt Carr Singers
"God Blocked It" by Kurt Carr feat. Yolonda Adams
"Yesterday" by Mary Mary
"Can't GIve Up Now" by Mary Mary
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)