let go...

On New Year's Day, I cleaned out my refrigerator.  Now for the less than handful who have had the pleasure of  digging in my frig, they are now doing the Baptist two-step & leg kick dance.  "Praise da lawd!" lol

Don't get me wrong...I'm not "nasty".  I just, with good intentions, hold on to stuff too long.  And in this case, that can result in a couple of "surprises" buried...in the back....behind my father's bottle of beer that he couldn't finish during his SUMMER visit.  Sigh.  Yeah.  It's a problem.  I didn't know beer expired.  I don't drink the stuff...but I digress.

So the trash bags were filling up, garbage disposal was going, soapy dish water was working it....and in the middle of dumping some old Thai food...I just felt......disgusted with myself.  

"Why the hell do you do this???" 

"Is it the starving children in Africa? Or in the hood?"

"Feel guilty for the waste?  Food....money???"

"WHAT IS IT???" 

In that moment, a knowing that had been creeping up on me for weeks hit me square in the chest.  It was about much more than moldy mac & cheese and year old salad dressing.  See, I'm not "nasty" but I HAD a problem....a problem with letting go. 

I would allow something or someone or some thought or some feeling to take up space in the refrigerator of my life...even when it was no longer good....for me.  As a matter of fact, it would be so past expiration that it was dangerous...poison to my system if I dared to digest it just ONE.....MORE....TIME.  Holding on....to stuff and people and things and mindsets....wayyyy past their shelf life....thinking I can still work with it, can still get it right, can still get something good from it....I can still still still.  NO!!!

Are you judging me?  Nah...surely not.  You may need to go check YOUR "frig".  Or perhaps it's your closet or that digital black book in your cell phone.  Maybe it's that FaceBook "friends" list?  Or maybe you need to roll over and check who you laying next to.  It could even be that negative stank attitude or bad self image or abusive childhood.  I don't know but whatever it is....if it's POISONOUS....

LET IT GO.

And make room for the FRESH and NEW.

Selah.

bite of the day ~ It's 2014.  Time to clean "house".

thirtiesgirl

That Type of Girl...

You see him.  He sees you.  There's something different...electric in the air.  You connect.  You're feelin' him.  He's feelin' you.  The connection is interesting, refreshing...fast heartbeat exciting...in a laid back comfy kind of way.  It comes out pretty early what type of girl you are...that waiting type.  That drawers up-skirts down-take her home to mama-ain't no play thing-type.  A cool breeze blows through suddenly.  And slowly but surely, fadeeeeeee to black.....once again.

"Babes...I couldn't live up to your standards!"

I was in college when my father spoke these words to me.  I had just, through a waterfall of tears, shared with him how increasingly difficult it was becoming to hold on to my virginity while dating my then boyfriend who I was crazy/mad/stupid in love with.  I was complaining about the pressure that not only my own curiosity and love was applying to my vow...but the pressure he was applying as well.  Intense. At the time, being in typical man mode himself, my father didn't want me to disrupt my good relationship in this fit of emotion when my man was just "being normal".  

Fast forward quite a few years and I find myself in single again mode after an unraveled marriage...and fighting to hold on to the goodies once again.  A conversation with a good guy friend of mine earlier today reminded me of why I was not too happy to be "un-settled".  Weeding through the toads.  Sigh.  Ok...well, maybe some of them are not toads. Nevertheless, those "standards" that my father referred to long ago are still in FULL effect.  And SOME guys...most that I've run into thus far have an even lower tolerance for said standards than they did 10 years ago.  Namely because we are even deeper in the age of aggressive women who chase men....especially those that have even a little bit going for themselves....these females are willing to drop the panties on command.  And the brothers KNOW IT.  It takes a...certain type of man to be celibate and hold on to HIS goodies in today's society.  But that's exactly the type of man who would SEE a woman like me and not feel...challenged....but GRATEFUL. 

"Continue to be who you are.  Dudes run because they ain't getting the cookie til marriage.  Men wanna test drive." 

....said my good guy friend....in the same breath he admitted not knowing really any single guys (outside of his Mosque) that even claimed to be celibate.

I am a strong girl...but sometimes I feel like......an alien chillin' on a planet all by myself...waiting for my equal to finally land in my world.  Selah.

bite of the day ~ It takes courage to be different.  It takes perseverance to stick with your own convictions...even when it looks like it's getting you no where fast.  Hold on.  The sun will rise again....just for you.

thirtiesgirl

The Best Man Holiday...mai review

When I first heard Malcolm Lee was doing a sequel to what is in my opinion a Black Classic, 1999's The Best Man, I was....nervous.  I mean, sequels can be great...or they can also go terribly wrong. For films like this, I say if it ain't broke DON'T DO A SEQUEL! That goes for tv shows and books too....I was SOOOOO disappointed with the sequel to Terry McMillan's novel Waiting to Exhale...words cannot describe!  But I digress.

When I saw the first marketing pieces for the film, excitement and curiosity!  

Who wouldn't want to know what happened to some of their favorite characters?  Plus,  I LOVE seeing beautiful black folks on the big screen...and everyone is aging extremely WELL.  Morris with his chocolate deliciousness...WHEW!

STILL got it. I'm just sayin'. :-) And the ladies, Monica Sanaa Regina Nia Melissa,  who covered Ebony mag last month are an inspiration to say the least.

As for the film itself,.I expected....more? Especially after all the raving and butt licking on Facebook.  If I had to compare it to the first film, The Best Man had a build up of conflict and tension with the whole not-so-secret book/cheat reveal situation that just was NOT topped in the sequel.  Keeping the book and it's contents from Lance...the anticipation of him finding out the truth about his best man and soon-to-be wife...and then the satisfaction of the climax when he literally beat the bricks off Taye Diggs' character...I mean, c'mon!  Big shoes to fill.

Where BM Holiday was weak on tension/conflict building, it was heavy on tear jerking drama.  I admit, I was snotting a few times. There were plenty of touching moments...and I did appreciate that they showed different sides of the characters' personalities...even irritating shallow Shelby was shown in a different light before it was all said and done.  

I will say, the sequel LOOKED classier as far as setting etc, but the language was a lot more crass.  They seemed obsessed with the words d**k & pu**y & mother f**ka...I mean, really?  Trust me.  I'm no prude but when something jumps out at me during a film and it's adding no value at all, that's an issue.  The first one wasn't rated PG either...(remember the card scene...talk about tension!) but everything seemed...real.  Not just in there trying to be funny...and I do emphasize TRYING. Sigh. 

bite of the day - Overall, I'm still a superfan of the original Best Man....and was just glad to see these characters again in the second. Acting was superb as expected. Plus I got a good cry out so that counts for something. :-)

thirtiesgirl

SEX-y Songs...

I love music.  Good music. All genres...all types.  Right now I'm addicted to Spotify having abandoned Pandora with its commercials for my premium subscription last summer.  So tonight, I was in the mood for some NE circa '96 (i.e. New Edition).  So I'm rocking while I work.  Then I see one of those "If you like this artist, try this artist" messages.  I click on The MANuel by Q Parker of R&B group 112 fame.  I'm feeling it.  Smooth....talking about love.  Good stuff.  I'm rockin'....all the way to my bathroom break.  As soon as I sit on the porcelain throne, a new song comes on.  Smooth... bass heavy.  Then it happens.

Breathing.  A woman moaning.  A man...namely Q asking "those questions" in "that voice".  

"Oh no."  

A familiar jump in the pit of my stomach....and below.  I couldn't get up (wipe and wash) fast enough. Frantic!  Too late.  The ultra-sexy interlude had already entered my atmosphere. Almost felt like the first time I heard "Darling Nikki" by Prince. 

Sigh.

From an early age I was trained and trained myself to listen to LYRICS so I could monitor what I was letting in my head and heart.  And for someone like me with a VIBRANT, VIVID, CREATIVE imagination...um, I MUST WATCH IT.  I remember when I was single before I couldn't listen to certain songs simply because they took me off my square...like seriously "Love Scene" by Joe was BANISHED from the playlist.  Almost cost me the goods on more than one occasion....goods I was determined to hold on to until I walked down the aisle.  Of course, after I was married....SWEET FREEDOM!  Bring on all the JOE, PRINCE and sex-y music in the universe!

Now that I'm single again, I gotta watch it cause the goods are back on lock down...and I intend to keep them that way until HE comes along and puts a ring on it.  In the meantime, lawd Jesus....keep me near the cross!

Cold + Shower = ME.  Sigh.

bite of the day ~ Ummm...real talk...No words.  Pray for a sista. LOL


thirtiesgirl

The WHY?

Last week I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine who is an entrepreneur and very much into having a positive impact on others' lives and the community through her work. Not unlike myself.  We talked about getting back to "The Why?" Why did you start...whatever you started?  Whether it's a business, a relationship, a diet...a blog.  What was your motivation?  Sometimes, THE WHY gets lost in the shuffle of "the process"...the challenges.  Whether digging deep or climbing high....you have to start somewhere.  And remembering not only WHERE you started, but WHY you started can help with staying focused...and provide motivation during the, inevitable, challenging times.

My mother and I officially started our arts nonprofit, The Anointed Harvesters, back in 2003...after leading the drama ministry at our church for years.  Our motivation?  Expanding beyond the walls of the church...and for me as a writer, more creative freedom.  Expanding meant moving beyond the limitations of stage into film. Packaging positive messages and images that could literally go around the world without us leaving our doorsteps...or dealing with some uncommitted actors not showing up to rehearsals or learning their lines. "It don't take all of that!" Um...YES it does.  Out with you! LOL

empower. inspire. uplift.  

So we set out to learn the film business...every aspect and angle.  What we found were a lot of closed doors and unwillingness to share the knowledge. Wow...Shocker!  Fortunately, a closed door only makes women like us put on steel boots.

"YOU don't tell ME what I can't do..."  

So, we decided not only would we make opportunities for ourselves, but anyone who had the basic SKILLS and DESIRE to be a viable part of the entertainment industry, but had not been given the opportunity to gain the experience. Enter the birth of our Shadow Training & Internship Program. Quality NOT Quantity is one of our mottos. 

Over the years, we've had our share of challenges, sacrifice, sabotage, hate and other unmentionables.  But we've also seen so many people touched, inspired, changed and assisted due to our work.  We've realized how so many people simply have not found the strength to pursue their dreams, whatever they may be...no courage to pursue their slice of the fulfilled-life pie.  Passion.  Purpose.  In this damp dark world, we can, should and are A Light that draws.  It is a humbling and sometimes, daunting assignment but we LOVE this stuff.  And we are loved...and supported.  So we continue on...  

Join us this Friday and Be Inspired. 

www.theanointedharvesters.org/buy 

  

bite of the day - Strap on those steel boots and START KICKING!  Selah.

thirtiesgirl

Confessions in Black & White

"These white boys getting bold!?!" 

Said my 20-year old self to my bonus sister after a car full drove by and lustily gazed at us.  She immediately got pissed at me for making an "ignorant borderline racist statement".  I guess she was extra sensitive because, at that moment, she herself was in an interracial relationship.  Of course at the time I didn't see anything wrong with what I said.  It was how I felt. To me, it was abnormal for white guys to look at me like...well, like black guys.  I had primarily grown up in predominantly black areas and schools, that is until college.  Soon after this incident, I would have my own AHA moment when me and my white future brother-n-law went shopping for a birthday gift for my sister.  I wasn't aware of the stares...at first.  After all, it was just me and J...shopping and laughing and talking. "What are they looking at???", I thought.  I quickly realized what they were looking at and I got pissed.  "Ohhh.  So, this is how it feels."  After that, I started a journey of understanding and enlightenment...that I'm apparently still on. 

CASE IN POINT...

Yesterday it was sweltering and I was NOT feeling my "cutest".  But I still had to get out of the drab office for some therapy...sun and shopping.  A cute pair always makes life better! :-)

On my way back, I saw the resident homeless lady who likes to beg in a sing song kind of voice (LOUDLY) from across the street.  Being that I had already given the little cash I had on me away, I decided to watch her for a few moments to see if her singing actually got some results.  While I was watching her, someone was watching me.  Finally, a fair-skinned (and handsome) stranger moved closer into my eye view and looked at me.

Mr. Fairskinned&Handsome: "That's a beautiful dress..."

ME: (slight smile) "Thank you."

Mr. Fairskinned&Handsome: "Pink really looks good on you..."

ME: (half listening/half watching the singing beggar lady): "Thanks...I appreciate the compliment."

Then the light changed and he slowly strode across the street in front of me.  And yes, I checked him out. Swag. Hmmm...interesting.  I could see him debating whether to say something else to me.  But I hustled past and kept on my way.  

CONFESSION:  Years ago, if a white man looked at me "like that"...I would darn near audibly hear the word "RAPE" in my head.  Guess I watched too many slave movies.  Sigh.

CONFESSION:  Up until around the year 2000, I had not really ever met a white guy that I was attracted to..."like that".  Movie stars don't count.  Then, I met Ben...a Jewish artist with the most beautiful open brown eyes I had ever seen.  And he had MAD swag.  To my amazement, I really LIKED him..."like that".

CONFESSION: The very few fairskinned men that I have found myself attracted to had "brotha-like" qualities.  You know, kissable lips...nice walk...but most of all CONFIDENCE...enough to simply treat you like a desirable woman.  I have found that many white men treat black women very neutral on the surface, but if you pay attention, they sneaking peaks on the sly.  Especially in elevators.  Which is why I was thrown off several years ago when I first met my occasional elevator friend and he looked me DIRECTLY in my eyes "like that" and started a conversation...and actually acts like he doesn't want it to end pretty much every time I see him.  I admit, neither do I.  Hmm. Strange feeling.  

Needless to say, I'm still opening my mind to the possibilities...all of them.  Because I realize that I have certain ideas about black folks & white folks that carry a bit of weight.  But the differences we make in this society based on something as superficial as color AIN'T GOD.  And the truth is, I only see color when I don't know the person...like the fairskinned&handsome stranger with the compliments.  Otherwise it's just Jason, Jonathan, Bob..Mike.  You get the point.  Just GUYS I know.  Not white guys.  

bite of the day ~ There was a time I would have never imagined myself romantically involved with a nonblack man, but as they say...things change.  I've changed.  God knows who He has in my future.  I'm just determined not to be too blind to see through the black and white. Selah.

thirtiesgirl

And Then There was 39....

I had a dream....a vision. 

I was on the side of a mountain...with greenery, some withered some full and vibrant, all around.  The whole of nature seemed to be on pause observing....something.  I was  not walking nor climbing up this mountain.  I was being pushed...at times shoved so aggressively that rocks and pebbles were crumbling beneath my feet and dropping violently to a shattered death below.  I was leaning back with my legs straight as boards and a determined scowl on my face...resisting the shoving...upward.  I recognized those pushing me.  Mollie. Will. Olivia. Ruby. Allen. Jimmy...both of them. Poochie. Greg. Corrinne. Lester. Willie. Ray. Jerome. LW. It was hundreds of them....lined up beneath me, almost stacked on top of each other...shoving me via back and butt and legs up this mountain.  All of them....dead and gone relatives. My grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins....my loves no longer on this side of creation.  But there they were in my dream...shoving me violently while somehow moving forward themselves. I'm not sure what happened but at some point, there was a shift in my demeanor.  The resistant scowl turned to a determined focused glare toward the top of that mountain.  I stopped leaning back and began to climb....and climb and climb.  I didn't have to look back to know my loves were still there.  I felt their hands on my back, my butt, my legs....still pushing me.  

And the sky opened up..... 

bite of the day ~ Dear God, on this, my 39th year....I thank you for The Shove. Selah.

thirtiesgirl