WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Friday, December 5, 2008

Can We Sing For A Minute?

So allegedly and apparently once you reach a certain age you have to be a grown-up and be grown about yours. Sigh. Paying bills. Buying homes. OK, at least one home, maybe not multiple. Getting into relationships. Let's pause right here, shall we?

So let's say you've been kickin' it with a nice fella, y'all talk via a variety of mediums, go on dates, have great conversations, mayhap you've gotten phyiscal, physical (if not you've at least exchanged a kiss or two), and most importantly y'all genuinely enjoy each other's company. You're feelin' him and it's clear that he's feelin' you. And you could just float on, float on through life like this forever. Or maybe not. Because there comes a time when you have to have the TALK.

The where is this going, what do you want from me, am I "wasting" my time with you cause I want a relationship and you ain't ready for that next step, talk? Because as much as people proclaim to wanna 'go with the flow', 'live and let live' and other cliches, it's just human nature to want to put "labels" on things or get clarification so you can maintain sanity and a criminal free record.* I mean you don't wanna be bustin' nobody's windows out, flattening tires, hiding in bushes, telling yo' momma's prayer circle to keep on prayin cause you made a mistake and it turns out that last man isn't gonna be yo' huzband, cause you thought y'all were together or building towards something until you saw him out on a date with somebody else. Awkward.

Now in the best of all possible worlds, you should have this talk before (as Steve Harvey would say), you give him the cookies. But you know what happens to good intentions. They come tumbling down like panties. Anywho. So just the thought of having the talk can cause panic, upset stomachs, lightheadedness, night sweats, a burning sensation, because what if you want one thing and the person wants another? And what if you're not even sure what you want? And what if you just want to convey that you're a great chick and he needs to get up on this?

And then on top of the fact that you have to have the talk, you also gotta pick the right time to do it. I mean men are always saying they don't like it when a woman is all quick with the 'where is this going' question. Not to mention that some men don't even like for women to bring up the topic, but we shan't go there today. And so you if you're gonna get your grown woman on and find out the deal, then you gotta do some algebra type equations that factor: how long have y'all been going out, how much do you like him, what do you want from him. Divide that by the year you were born. And then add the number of people you've slept with. Subtract the men who weren't shit. And then you have your answer of when to pounce talk.

But wouldn't it be sooo great if instead of the talk, you could just play songs that have already been written and express everything you already feel about possible relationships?! Oh yes! You could momentarily take off your grown-up hat and coat, make a mix CD, hand it to him, and watch his reaction as each song plays. Maybe you could take it old school and start off with a lil' Chaka to find out what he's feeling

And then after he confesses that he really does actually like you, then you could hit him with a little Jaguar Wright

and try to decide if you really wanna tell him how you feel. And then once you get up the nerve to tell him exactly how you feel, you can do like Teedra Moses

and let him know that you don't usually fall hard this way, and all you wanna do is him. And then you could hit him with a little Alice Smith

and let him know what exactly you like about him and what you want to be to him. And if that isn't enough, if he still needs more, then you leave the ultimate song by Ms. E. Badu herself for last, the song that puts it all out there, yet says just what you've been trying to say so effortlessly, so beautifully, so simply, with three little words: I Want You. And then throws the ball in his court with: So What We Gon' Do?

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

*Speaking of criminal records, the person who allegedly (that's for you Mint Julep) broke into my car last week has been apprehended. Sadly, he's a juvenile. Thanks for all the nice comments y'all left last week!


Anonymous said...

I am feelin this blog in more ways than one ... is it perhaps proof of my maturity that I have more than once thought about making a CD or writing a letter to avoid the awkwardness?... and even actually carried it out a couple of times when I was in undergrad?... the idealist in me wins often... sad part of it is the few times I did ... I was expecting this overwhelming response and instead got blank "I don't get it face" thereby forcing the awkward conversation anway! Props!

Torrance Stephens - All-Mi-T said...

not all men, just some men - they ones who have not grown up