Silent Tears

So this morning I am in the bathroom at work changing from workout Amaretto to I got bills to pay Amaretto when I hear a woman walk into the bathroom sniffling. Now I have to share that I was in the handicap stall because it’s larger and has a mirror and sink and as a whole handicap stalls make the public bathroom experience so much better. And so I wonder why all stalls can’t be handicap stalls? Why limit the disabled? Why punish the non-handicapped with a coffin-like bathroom experience? Sorry-I am just typing what randomly is coming into my head, but I do think I need to write someone and propose that all bathroom stalls be handicapped stalls!

Anyways, I also realized while typing that I didn’t really need to let ya’ll know that I was in the handicapped stall, but I wanted you two fine readers of the 5 spot to know why I was so a tuned to what was going on in the bathroom. A disabled person will cuss you out for using their stall. No bull-my grandma learned that the hard way when walking out of a handicapped stall there was a lady in a wheelchair waiting. What is the likelihood right? But if all the stalls had been able to accommodate a wheelchair my grandma would not have had to apologize so vehemently to a woman half her age. But we live and we learn!

Anyways I’m in the stall and I keep hearing the woman sniff. At first I was like she has a cold. But as it continued my mind flashed to movie scenes in which people are doing lines of cocaine in the bathroom, but most folks in my building are getting government wage to go with their good government job which means that they can’t afford the designer drugs. So then I hear the woman say “Oh God’ *sniffle* “Oh God” *whimper* *sniffle* and that is the moment where I was conflicted… should I ask the woman if she was okay?

I think most of us know what to do when a person needs help. A person’s bag of groceries breaks and food falls to the ground-we stop and we help-maybe take an apple for our troubles. When our bathroom neighbor needs some toilet tissue we spare the square © Elaine from Seinfeld. But when our bathroom neighbor enters the stall to have a personal breakdown should we ask them if they are okay?

Now I have to tell ya’ll that this thing called life has had me in the bathroom crying more than a river. I mean even though I might have tried as hard as I could to hold back the tears or to blame my reddening eyes on allergies, some times a girl (I don’t know if men feel the same) has to get up and go into the ladies room. But this morning, I didn’t know what my role should have been as a hearer of tears. I don’t think I would have appreciated someone trying to console me in the bathroom during my weak moments. A woman crying in a bathroom stall is there because she needs a private place to not be strong for a minute.

I think I did the right thing by walking out, but hours later I am wondering if maybe I should I have asked if she was okay or needed a tissue. What is the proper procedure for when a fellow woman feels disabled by life?

See You In Seven

Everybody is Healing...

Last week at a funeral, the pastor said... everyone's life is in one of three stages... 1. Going through something, 2. Getting out of something and 3. About to go through something. This is so true as I was reminded last night.

Case and Point
Last night I had an awesome time chilling with a few of my clay studio buddies over a couple bowls of chili. Every year on the night of the Philadelphia marathon, I am invited to their house to part-take in a little celebratory dinner with anywhere from 7 to 10 different types of chili. Last year I passed on this get together because I honestly didn’t want to get too close to them. I was comfortable with the little that they knew about me.

Well last night I was like who cares, just go, you won’t get asked any million dollar questions. What are the million dollar questions you ask? I will tell you later keep reading.

So, Amaretto can attest to this… I go through this moment of convincing myself on the way to the event that I am just going to say Hi, smile and I am out and needless to say that never happens. And this night was no different. I get there. Old school soul music is playing… who don’t like James Brown? There is a smorgasbord of topping and sides (pasta, rice, cornbread, fajitas, salsa, sour cream, avocado, multiple cheeses, peppers, etc) are on the first table and as I enter the kitchen, there are 10 pots on heat being keep warm with ladles. There is everything from veggie to lobster to catfish to bison to beef chili. YUMMY! So maybe I won’t be able to do a quick smile and Hi. (chuckle)

Okay, okay 2 spoonfuls and a two glasses of wine later, everyone is loose and the getting to know each other begins. My follow studio-mate turns to me and says she is really nervous about her interview tomorrow. And I say really why? Then she was like I have been rather worried about interviewing since I lost my job. UH? Hold up when did you lose your job? I couldn’t stop myself before it came out... that was a million dollar question. If you ask a million dollar question don’t surprised if you get hit with one too. (chuckle)

No turning back now. My studio-mate goes on to tell me that she took a break from her nursing job because she was addicted to the painkillers that were prescribed to her 2 years ago for a shoulder incident. She explained that she took a voluntary break from her job but the medication they used in rehab contained ingredients that caused to fail her drug test when it was time to return, therefore she has been unemployed for the past 6 months. (BTW – She is a nurse and we live talking about Nurse Betty in class.) WHOA! This is some crazy mess. Chica! We were just at the movies the other day together.

She then goes on to say it feels so good to get that off her chest because it had been bothering her for a while and she felt like she had to keep up this pretense. OMG! The chili wasn’t the only thing burning up on my insides. I totally knew what she was feeling. Coming into the studio week after week, night after night, sharing our lives as we work. Calling clay work a hobby when for many of us it was therapeutic. Studio nights had become a safe haven for more than one person other than myself.

Should I share this with her? I don’t know.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I had this same conversation with another friend about how I don’t have the heart to tell my studio-mates, that I am divorced. I know, I know, nobody cares but it just seems so hard to say it the first time to anyone who knew you as a married woman. It doesn’t matter who you are. So I totally understand how she feels.

At that point, I whispered in her ear… while you were hiding behind your smiles week after week, I was doing the same thing as I went through a divorce.

Silent hug.

Much luv until next week… peace and a hug :)

Fear of Flying

So originally I was gonna write a post titled, “sometimes I wish I were a whore”, and discuss my frustration with this thing called ain’t getting none (by choice). That was gonna be the whole point of the post. But then I thought that might offend any part time whores who do read this here blog. And it might be overshare. So then I decided to write about my relationship fears/phobias/I don't know if I could handle the following:

You Told Me This Already – So in case you couldn’t tell, I’m a storyteller. And when I tell a story, I have to polish the silver, get out the china, set the table with the fine linen and napkins, make the sweet tea, pour the ice water, before I can serve you the meal. And sometimes I forget what I say. And I end up telling the same story over again. Or being like, "wait. Did I tell you this already?" And that’s a pain for the listener. But can you imagine years and years of that? I was in Bible Study last night and this couple who has been married for 57 years (57 YEARS?!?!) was in there. So the husband tells this story that even I had heard before. And there was his wife, eyes half closed, just nodding along, and I was sitting there like, “I wonder if she’s thinking, ‘If I hear this story one more daggone time.’” I halfway wanted her to jump up on the chair and be like STOP TELLING THIS STORY! IT HAPPENED TO YOU 52 YEARS AGO! WHO CARES ANYMORE? But then it was her turn and she told a story that I’m sure he had heard over and over and over. And he sat. And "listened.." And I sat in awe and amazement.

Other Couples – I love my friends. But more importantly I like my friends. Enjoy talking to them. Hanging out with them. Going on trips with them. I know all their likes, dislikes and idiosyncracies. We got this friendship thing down to a tee. But what if I don’t love or even like your friends? And yet he continues to insist that we do things with them. Dinners. Vacations. Play dates and birthday parties with their kids. One time my ex went out with his friend and left me in the house with the friend’s girl. OMG. She was one of those people who talked and talked and talked. And talked some more. And I sat there wanting to hit her in the head with a frying pan. Not to kill her or anything. Just stun her into silence. But all I had were those cheap Walmart skillets, so that was a no go. And then we started going on double dates. I could not imagine years and years of that. And yet it's kinda rude to be like, "I don't really like hanging with them," no? Cause I mean he might not like all my friends. And there I am on the phone, making plans, asking him if Friday night is good for him for a Bid Whist and fish fry night...

Other People’s Family – You know how other people think their families are the mostest? And that totally makes sense cause it’s they family. But one day my homegirl and I were at this graduation party for these two guys’ and it was mostly their family – hanging, talking, laughing and she said, “I hate other people’s families.” And I totally got it. Cause you know they have their own quirks, and inside jokes and they be lookin’ at you all up and down when you come into a room. Or taking notes on if you lack any home training. Or asking you to help peel the potatoes or clear the table. And since I’m the most unthoughtful person, I can’t imagine having to do woman’s work in the kitchen. Or trying to impress someone’s mama by doing the dishes – as I witnessed with one couple. Sometimes I secretly wish that my future husband/boyfriend/whatever be an orphan who was like raised by very, very polite wolves. And so now he’s out in the world all alone, looking for someone to love him like his mama wolf who is sadly now dead (so I don't even have to go into the woods to visit her) because they had to get rid of the wolves cause they were eating all the deer and small children and throwing nature off balance.

And because I’m the type of person who even takes the time to think of these kind of things, when it’s not even my reality – which apparently is not a good thing, one should focus on the present and not the whatifs, or the maybes, or the Lord please don't send me thats – I’m sure that God is gonna have some fun with me when he does send me someone. It’ll probably be a man with like 12 brothers and sisters, with two big mommas who are 98 and 101 respectively, who was on line with 125 other guys and is friends with all of em, who has just as many stories as I do and forgets what he tells me.

Or not. Cause I know that whatever I get, however it comes, will be exactly what I need while it might simultaneously push me outta my comfort zone. Cause the other thing the couple from Bible Study shared is how they had seen Precious the other day, in the middle of the afternoon, and how he had fallen asleep and she woke him up cause it cost $8.75 a piece ya hear, only for him to fall asleep again, and yet he still had lots of commentary about a less than 2 hour movie it sounds like he missed half of. And I found that, well - precious. And so it made all my fears and worries about my imaginary relationship seem futile. Cause from what I've observed when you get the person you're supposed to get. And you like them. Like really like them. Well you can deal with the rest. Somehow. But I'm still kinda hoping for that raised by wolves thing...

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

catching (and releasing) feelings

Now, look, I ain't trying to get in your business... but, I mean I do know a little something about being pissed. I mean, it's all - You know, it's all just feelings, man. From females to friends to funerals... it's all about the feelings. I just want you to recognize the difference between what you feel and what's real. That way you don't look back on life with a bunch regret.

Uncle George from ATL

earlier this year i  randomly met this guy.  literally walked by him, said hello and smiled.  he liked what he saw and tracked me down through a friend of mine.  and then over a meal i learned more about him.  and i liked what i heard.  a lot.  and it seemed like he liked me too.  and the way i felt when i talked to him, when i saw him, when i was around him seemed to be like nothing i had ever experienced in my life. 

but very shortly thereafter things sort of sputtered out.  mainly because dude was married.  while he said he was "separated, but um, i need to see them papers.  papers.  papers." (c) rum punch/usher remix.  nothing happened between us and i didn't feel comfortable remaining in contact with him given that he wasn't truly making moves toward divorce.

but i really liked him.  felt a special kinda way about him. or so i thought.

i went on with my life.  but inside i wondered, what the hell was that? he was feelin me just as much as i was feelin him. right? right?!?

wrong.  it was all just feelings.  the heart flutters, the nervousness, the uncontrollable smiles at the thought of him.  all just feelings.  and as a pisces i love love, romance, and feelings.  unfortunately feelings can get you in a whole lot of trouble without a heaping side order of reality.

so often we get swept up in the moment.  in the feelings.  and then we find ourselves in too deep.  in relationships where in reality, it's all f'ed up.  dysfunctional.  not healthy.  you say he just gets frustrated some times, when really he's verbally and physically abusive when things don't go his way.  he's does chores around the house and fixes things in your place that are broken, when really he live with his mama so he's always over to your house cause he don't got a place of his own.  he says he's not ready for a serious relationship when he actually is just passing the time with you until he meets the real woman of his dreasms. 

so we always have to balance our feelings with reality.  usually through sisterfriends, mothers, fathers or through the voices in our own heads.  like the homie rum punch, "of course he was enthralled with you, he had nothing to lose, so that type of enthralled doesn't count."  exactly!

the real was i met a married guy who was nice.  end of story.
it had nowhere to go cause he wasn't moving.
how i felt about him didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things.
just like i met him, i'll meet someone else.
just think a year ago, i didn't even know his name.
so just imagine the people i don't know now who i may know in a few days/weeks/months.
half of my closest friends now, i didn't even know in 2008 before moving to this new job, this new city.

that makes me smile.  that's my reality.

I'll Be Back...Next Week

cheers,

Bellini

Throwback Tuesday part I

My apologies ya'll, its another crazy day in la officina and I am trying to fight off the cold my coworker brought up in here-why don't people just stay home when they are sick? I think me myself personally will be leaving working early myself! So I am going to have to give ya'll another Amaretto throwback. I wrote this over two years ago and I think the sentiment still rings true, where is the time going?

See You In Seven
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Holding Back the Years

I can’t believe that it’s already November. What happened to those seemingly endless summer days of childhood? Seriously, what happened to this past summer? As the calendar keeps advancing I keep pushing deadlines for personal goals farther back. As Stormy said, 30 is the new 20 right? So having it all together which includes-career, doting husband, 2.5 kids, house (maybe in a gated community) and all around fabulousness-can wait until I’m forty, because I don’t think I’ll have it all within the next four years. And while I don’t want, nor plan to wait that long, I do wish I could hold time back a bit.

A couple weeks ago I ran into a dude I went to high school with. He was neither friend nor foe so I was going to act like I didn’t see him. But he decided to say hello and so we got to talking, well gossiping about our former classmates. He told me about so and so who lost their mind in college drinking and “experimenting.” And about such and such who quit her job because she’s engaged to some rich guy. And he, himself was expecting his first child with a girlfriend. So many changes have occurred for some people yet sometimes I feel like I’m in the exact same place I was nearly ten years ago.

These type of conversations get one to being introspective and I began to think about young Amaretto and the person she was. Back in the day, it was so important to get my crush to notice me. So I would plan to accidentally bump into him in the hallway. There was always a plan to smoke and drink at someone’s house when their parents were away. And Friday and Saturday nights were spent cruising the streets in a friend’s broke down car-sanging along with the radio. Good times! But along with the trivial there were plans for what my adult self would do…

I guess this is what getting older is like. Planning, living, revising, reminiscing, wondering, and letting go. This song has been speaking to me lately. It was hot when I was like four and the video’s fashions are quite hilarious. But this British group, Simply Red must have known that folks would be able to relate to the feeling and fear of wasting our limited time…

Don’t get me wrong, I am looking forward to my future and keeping my past where it belongs- behind me. It’s just sometimes I think about young Amaretto who really thought I would have it all together by thirty. Such a lofty, and maybe slight crazy, goal-but even still, I don’t want to fail us. Occasionally I wish time would slow up, but since that’s not going to happen I’ll keep striving during these years to make young Amaretto’s dreams my reality.

Life's Order

Excuse me if I sound like Amaretto today but this weekend totally reminded me that life works out differently for everyone. So why are we still saying that life’s story is written this way?

• Graduate form high school
• Go to College
• Graduate from college
• Get a good job
• Get married
• Buy a house
• Have children
• Live happily ever after

Supposedly in this order is the best way and the most common way to get to the happily ever after. Well I am about to say out of all the people I know this has worked for only 10%. Real digits.

Much luv until next week… peace and Wale (like whale without the h? or Wales without the s? chuckle)