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, May 22, 2009

Some Sugar In My Bowl

When I was working at the skrip club, an older gentleman (and by older I mean, 65, if not older) used to come in and try to holler. His “game” consisted of the following: “you know my wife passed away from cancer. And I need someone to take care of me. I have a nice house with a pool in the back. You should come over. You would like it.” Yes, the pool in the back was the selling point. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention that he was a shytty tipper and he never bought me a drink. I mean as my momma would say, “show me that you care.” But as usual I digress…

So, the problem with men hitting on you at work is a. you can’t run away from them b. you will definitely see them again and c. you depend on them for your livelihood, so you have to be somewhat nice to them. So you have to just dangle that ‘maybe, someday, I will take you up on this ridiculous great offer’ carrot. My usual response was, “that sounds really nice. But I don’t know… Um. Do you need another drink?” And let me tell you this man was persistent. Even told me about the foundation he started for his dead wife. I mean if that don’t just tear at the heart strings! And I’d politely decline his offers each time. But I’m not gon’ lie, sometimes I wondered “what if I did just go ‘head and let him be my sugar daddy…” What would that be like? What would that entail exactly? Could I, you know, do it – pun intended.

Well one day he came in with a woman in her early to mid thirties. She was clearly a hood chick, a lil rough around the edges. So I said to him, “Is that your girlfriend?” His response, “Nah, that’s my wife. You didn’t want me.” Well damn! You right about that one! But who knew it was gonna play out like this?

That night I looked at this chick 1/3 in awe for getting with this old dude. 1/3 with respect for taking advantage of the benefits and rewards of being with this old dude. I mean she was probably living the life – or at least a step up from her life. Money, car, clothes, a pool in the back to chill at all day long. And then 1/3 wtf that she had actually gotten with this old dude. I mean really, how did that happen? F, love him, did she even like him? Did she have “sex” with him? Ewwwww…. Had to get that thought outta my mind. What did his kids think of the union? How long would this last? I mean I ain’t sayin she a gold digger but… let's just say I don't think he was what came to mind when she first envisioned having a huzband.

I don’t know y’all. There’s a part of me that believes in marriage for practical reasons: two incomes are always better than one, the tax incentives, merging retirement accounts and stock portfolios, life insurance payoffs (heh heh). But then there’s the part of me that believes in marriage for the fairytale, romanticized reasons: love, companionship, genuine attraction, enjoying that person’s company, a true friendship, wanting to grow old together, etc., etc...

However, as I get up in age, and it seems like the pool of available men is shrinking, causing me to sometimes drift into f-it mode, got me contemplating throwing out the fairytale reasons, and seriously considering a slightly (or quite) older, wealthier man who would “take care of me”. Financially and whatnot. But then I wonder what other parts of me would have to be compromised to live this life. And could I deal with it? Could I live with myself? And would it really matter, would I even care about pesky little things like scruples and this thing called love if I were draped in Dior and dripping with diamonds? Tee hee. For real though, could I exchange my values for some financial peace of mind?

And yes, I know that things aren't always what they appear to be. That the grass is always greener. That we could lose all our money in the stock market and I would be back at square one. Or he might not leave me in the will and then our house would be foreclosed on and I'd be screwed. That I'd have to maybe one day change his diapers and whatnot. But I'm just saying, sometimes this lil song plays in my head, "If you think you're lonely now. Wait until you 35..." And, like Carrie Bradshaw, I can't help but wonder will there be a time in my life when I'm willing to give up some of myself, my wants, my desires, what I thought mattered most, all in the name of comfort and security? I mean this life gets rough. Lonely. Hard. Expensive. And sometimes you just want someone else in it with you. A little sugar in your bowl...

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


Thursday, May 21, 2009

back in the day....

last night i was feeling sorta nostalgic so i went back and read some things that i had written almost ten years ago. way back in 2000, i befriended (and later dated) this guy who lived an entire state away. at the beginning of our friendship we stayed in touch via email, corresponding back and forth almost everyday for about a year or so. we talked about everything and nothing and seemed to never run out of topics to discuss. as i was reading through the emails i had a few ahhhh yessss moments:

1. writing is such a great way to communicate with someone you like/love...i should write more.
2. a lot of the things i thought about, believed in, and held dear at 19/20, still remain at 28 and lastly, me and old dude were really sweet on each other because we got to know each other first.

now the point of this post isn't to say that i'm going go seek out my old boyfriend and rekindle the flame. we're not together anymore for a reason and he's married now. actually i really don't know what the point of this post is. do you?

i guess sometimes it's good to gain some perspective. sometimes you can get so caught up in the latest relationship drama you're going through or the difficult times you're having in your professional climb that you forget where you came from, what you've been through and who you are.

reading how i was feeling over 7 years ago reminds me of why i like me. why he loved me. sometimes you just need that. bop-bop, bop-bop, bop-ba-domp. well, well, well...

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

it's about time...

Every morning I watch Morning Joe on MSNBC be’cuz Joe & Mika let shit rip and their guests are intriguing and provide insight. So, this morning Joe mentions Michael Vick gets released today. “ABOUT DAMN TIME!” was exactly what I said. And then Joe goes on to discuss how society values animals over lil’ boys and girls by stating that a child rapist serves less time than Michael Vick. say what Joe?

So, then I have to wonder what is wrong with our judicial system? Now, Bellini has studied constitutional law and is a history maven and I know enough about law to know that no two courts operate the same, so subjectivity runs high in courtrooms. I’m trying to figure out what did the DA’s (district attorney) office bring to the table that his defense couldn’t counter? Was the presiding judge in a position to throw out the case and didn’t – it takes gumption to do that. And even if the charge had to stick, meaning the judge did not have the license to close the case, didn’t he have the license to invoke a reduced sentence (i.e. community service)?

Folks, let me know if I’m missing something. I didn’t really pay attention to the whole Michael Vick thing. I just know I was stunned when he got jail time. And was a lil’ perturbed ok more than a lil’ that he was essentially broke; however, he didn’t deserve jail time. I hope he is able to pick the pieces up of where his life left off and be selective about the picking. Levy intense scrutiny over the pieces of your life and identify and select only those pieces worth maintaining your sanity, happiness, and health. All other pieces, please lay to the side. And Vick, it’s about damn time!



Tuesday, May 19, 2009

A Permanent Mistake?

Last week my friend and I had a discussion about tattoos. I have one. He doesn’t and is thinking about getting one. I laughed audibly and in my soul because he’s well past the age where a person should be thinking about getting tatted up for the first time. I told him that personally I think tattoos are foolish and if you haven’t done it in your teens or early twenties then the ship has sailed, get off the dock. It was an interesting conversation because at one point I also confessed that there are times now when I regret getting a tattoo and when I think about getting another one. And while this admission didn’t make any sense to him whatsoever my point was that you can only do certain foolish things at certain ages. Right?

Right. Okay. Please excuse me as I attempt to segue here.

Around this time last year my coworker told me that her homegirl had secretly gotten married. I met her homegirl a few times for lunches and I was blown away by this news! Mainly because her homegirl-a Black woman well into her 30s came off as a strong, educated, no nonsense (and Lord and ya’ll please forgive me) but possible Lesbian type of chick. It was just in my nosey attempt to confirm the latter that my coworker revealed that she had gotten married and only four people in the world knew about it (five including me). Who wasn’t included in the news were their mommas and siblings, this was a close friends only affair. After the shock wore off I was amazed and a little jealous of her friend’s ability to let caution blow in the wind. He’s a younger man, they hadn’t known each other for a long time and in fact lived in different cities. But when it came down to it, they took the marriage step because at the end of the day the relationship was about them…not everyone else.

Fast forward 365 days and my coworker’s homegirl is going through hell. She’s discovered a lot of things she didn’t know about her husband…including, but not limited to bouts with mental illness. She’s thinking about how to get out of this marriage with her sanity intact. With so many things going on in her life (she recently lost her job), homegirl ended up telling her mother. And if you can imagine a parent finding out that their child has done something secretly and more than a year has passed… then you know what her mom’s reaction was. It was more of a how could you have been so stupid then how do you need me to support you through this. And homegirl’s situation is a difficult and sad one right now.

I just think about how for a year I have admired this woman. She did something that I never could imagine myself doing…and to me that’s awesome! When I encountered homegirl in my post knowledge I couldn’t help but look at her a little differently. Giving her silent “you go girl” shout outs as she talked about her job or the holidays. But now that it hasn’t worked out and she’s going through, I suddenly find myself wondering how a woman well into her 30s, strong, educated and no nonsense could be foolish enough to let this happen to her. He mother asked her if she was so desperate to get married that doing this made sense to her? Ouch!

I just don’t know ya’ll. Aren’t secret marriages just for the sake of love and the relationship the type of foolish thing people do in their early 20s? Like tattoos, they may seem good at the time, and even cute for a little while afterward. But time always keeps moving, eventually someone else will see what you’ve done, and that totally bold and awesome thing you’ve done, might not look so cool when you realize that it’s now permanent part of you.

See You In Seven

Monday, May 18, 2009

Lil' Shots of Courvoisier

Every once in a while I have these thoughts of whether or not I would be a good mother. Those who know me would probably say "Yes but only one child" Some have even gone so far as to say one little girl will be just fine for me. If I said that one little girl didn't sound ideal for me I would be lying but I can't help but think, I would love to have two childern. (Now whether I birth these two kids is a different story.) I have always wanted to adopt. I just can't imagine living my whole life and not adopting.

I remember the exact moment when I decided I wanted to adopt, I was 16 years old. (That is funny because at 16 I was not trying to be married or give birth but I was down for adopting though.) It was junior year of highschool and I decided that my class was going to adopt a boy and a girl in South Africa, Maria and Joseph. It was such a good feeling to get those letters written by Maria and Joseph in the mail about how much they were learning in school. We even got pictures of them in their uniforms. We sponsored them for 2 years, until we graduated. I hoped that the class behind us continued but there is no telling.

Then last week, that same feeling was rekindled as I watched the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. The kids singing and smiling in the orphanage, got me. I started thinking as a single woman at my age can I adopt? Children that happy deserve the opportunity to do more. I would love to open a few doors for them so that they can help to build their country.

The plan back when I was 16 was to grow-up, get married, have a child of my own then adopt. Hmm... I think I might have to re-write that plan. When I am ready to be a parent (which is maybe in a few years), I don't think I am going to pay thousands of dollars like chic in Baby Mama, or get 'Knocked Up' by some random dude similar to another crazy movie out there. I am going to seriously look into adopting. I am blessed and I can't imagine not sharing.

Much luv until next week... peace :)