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, June 26, 2009

Love Training

I will be in New Orleans in less than one week celebrating another Fourth of July with the one and only, Ms. Mint Julep. We have spent the past two Fourth holidays together and they have been quite interesting to say the least. Both years I have gone out of town with plans to just chill and have a good time for the night/weekend. And yet on both occasions, I have met what I thought at the time was a great catch of man, so numbers were exchanged, and a long distance dance/courtship/what the fcuk have I gotten myself into began.

First came the tingly feelings. The fun and thrill of getting to know a new person. The walking on sunshine. The like, the lust and I wonder if this could one day be love thoughts. But then came the drama. Right on time and all the way live! The miscommunication. Or lack thereof. The muhfcuka is you crazy? The this can’t be life moments. No really, this can’t be my life.

Heart was splintered. Tears were shed. Cussing was done. Fcuk that nygga was the refrain from friends and my mama. Teedra Moses songs stayed on repeat. Prayers were uttered. Sadness settled in and tried to make a home. And I started thinking that me and “celebrating” this thing called Independence Day were cursed. Got me vowing that next week, I will tell any man I meet in New Orleans that, naw I don’t have a phone. No email either. Nope, no facebook page. And a sista lives on Mars, so rent you a spaceship if you tryna come see me.

But seriously, as this July Fourth approaches, bursting with possibilities, I find myself looking back at how what were supposed to be simple out of town jaunts to have a little fun turned into more than I could have ever imagined. Thinking how I then put my expectations on the totally unexpected. And then witnessed in awe what did and did not come into fruition. Remarking on how so much can happen in just one year. Let alone two. How things can grow. Then shift. Mutate. Change completely. Become unrecognizable. End. How you can think you’ve got it all figured out, only to make the same mistakes. And then wonder if you are becoming the definition of insanity.

While rehashing the most recent dissolved relationship with a friend, I sighed, “Well I guess you live and you learn. And she responded, “And then you get luvs.” “Perfection,” I said. Cause even though it’s from a diapers commercial, these experiences have me feeling like I’ve been wearing “love” pull ups. Seems that I wasn’t quite ready for the real thing. Had to go through some shyt, just to be changed.

Having to wear these training pants before getting the big girl panties has me sorting out in a practical, grown up way, what I want and need from a relationship. What I deserve. Truly (and finally) understanding that communication is key. That being true to one’s feelings is crucial. That compromise is a four letter word. That this grown up, real life shyt is no joke. That every event is preceded by a sign. We’re all clairvoyant if we'd only know it. © Toni Cade Bambara That if a man want you, he will choose you and if he ain’t really chose you yet, then you ain’t the one. That you can pontificate all you want on what you would do if this or that happened, but when placed in said situation, you may in fact let your own self down. That you think you know, but you have no idea.

And so whilst at the time, it felt like I was really going through it, that my heart was shattered beyond repair, me thinks (and have decided) these luv pullups were actually padding for when I fell, to ensure that I wouldn’t be bruised for life. Wouldn’t hold grudges. Wouldn’t fight people in the streets. They have served as protection from leaks of cynicism and jadedness. Kept me dry. Sane. And most importantly still hopeful. Hopeful that there is someone out there just for me. And that all of these experiences, no matter how bad they were, no matter how much it hurt, in the end have a purpose - to mold me into a woman who will know better. Do better. Live better. Expect better. And get better. Got me now believing that you live and you learn. And then you get love. Real love.

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

Epilogue - Everyone has their own memories of HIM. The King of Pop. Mine are: my cousin babysitting us and playing the Thriller record (RECORD!!!) and her making me sing Paul McCartney's part from the Girl is Mine over and over and over again. Playing the Motown Christmas record (RECORD!!!) as a child, beginning right after Thanksgiving and loving every Jackson 5 song. Loving that lean in the Smooth Criminal video. Amaretto putting in the Thriller CD (CD!!) when nothing was on the radio and letting that joint ride! Riding the train to work with Baby be Mine on repeat. And grooving to my all time favorite MJ song that always brightens my mood, makes me smile and then wanna get up and dance. Rest in peace Michael Jackson. You were a soundtrack to my childhood. Loved by people of all generations, races, and cultures. The best who ever did it. You will be missed.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

some things i thought i'd never do

for the last few days, black women have been buzzing about jill scott's latest revelation: she's a single mom. jill and drummer boy have called it quits.

some folks wonder was it all just a show? was the good love, the engagement, and the matching tatts just a smokescreen for the baby. let the comments on essence.com tell it, some women are mad as hell. how could she do it? didn't she say, "I can even raise the child we'll make, make sure he's loved and knows what God gave us, I can teach him how to walk and stand but he needs you to help him be a man, we need you."

or did she?

wasn't that just in a song she wrote? for our entertainment and encouragement. was it the real real truth? did jill scott deep down in her soul tell herself that she'd never be somebody's baby's mama? or did folks just see jill, all natural and glowing, luxuriously voluptuous, empowered and independent, all mother earthish and assume that "she knew better." that a woman who could write lyrics that seemed to express exactly how a woman was feeling would never get caught out there thinking she loved somebody, wanted to be with him for the rest of her life and then end up raising his child alone.

just look to e. badu for guidance. 3 babies from 3 baby's daddies. "i dont take nothin that [chic] say to heart, not like im better, just that we all full of contradictions." (c) rum punch.

contradictions indeed...

as women age and divorce and have desires for babies, we _________ [fill in some word that doesn't have compromise's negative connotations].

we mellow
we grow
we change what we want and desire.
hell, we compromise.
cause we probably started off from some unrealistic black knight in shining armor place.
we make mistakes.
we realize that love is complex as hell and that relationships take work
and we decide whether we will or will not be bothered
or if we'd just rather have the baby, please and thanks...

how far away from your "I'd never do...'s" have you gotten? for the good or for the bad?

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

mortal sensibilities

I remember one day in my youth asking my uncle, "Does it storm in the Atlantic Ocean." And he replied, "Why wouldn't it." And my youth's naivete, couldn't fully grasp what he wanted me to learn. With a few more minutes of coaching he explained to me that an ocean is a huge mass of water and precipitation can take place there as it would on land. So, I've always kept that morsel of information in the back of my mind. When ever meterologists inform the public of weather advisories, I take heed and hew to their instructions. And now I'm baffled because we still don't know what happened to Air France Flight 447.

The plane literally disappeared over the Atlantic Ocean -- in those waters between Brazil (eastern coast of South America) and Africa -- i.e. trade ship route. I don't know, I believe the waters between Brazil and Africa are sacred considering the history of the slave trade. No satellites, radar, we got nothing. Freak of nature, perhaps. Maybe 20 years down the line, we'll get a clue to shed some light on the tragic crash.

And then yesterday, in the nation's capital two trains collide. Bizarre. We don't know why, although we're told those things aren't supposed to happen. says who We're only humans and we have mortal sensibilities. All we can do is live life to the fullest and count your blessings. And know you are loved and to love back.



Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Dressed to Impress

Sometimes, when I’m walking down the street taking in the sights, I see a lady wearing an outfit that gives me pause. And I pause because it is not the type of outfit that is urbanely put together. It is not the type of outfit that I covet, or one that I would see in today’s fashion magazines. It’s the type of outfit that causes me to ask if this chick has any friends. Not girls she happens to know, but friends, true friends who don’t sugarcoat but will call her out and hold her accountable. And a friend would do that, because a genuine friend is a person who has your best interest at heart and in mind. A friend would have pulled over the 28 chick who loves to wear bright spandex pants and tiny baby tees when she always looks pregnant that looser material would best suit her body type and insist that she change her clothes! And 28 is her size by the way, not her age!

No matter how PC America gets let’s not play ourselves into thinking that it’s what’s on the inside that always counts. We all know that it doesn’t. Especially not when you first meet people and they have no idea that you have a great personality and have willed your entire fortune to an African orphanage. I’m not just talking about how important your appearance is in getting a job, duh we know that! I’m talking about on the relationship level! Ask any dude about his initial impressions about a woman, and sure enough he’ll mention something about her appearance. Not just the T&A, the waist ratio or even the cute face factors. But dudes notice what she wore and how she carried herself. I think Mr. David Chappelle said it best when attempting to explain the thoughts of men…
okay you are not a whore, but you do have on the uniform!
Um can the preacher get an Amen and maybe a boom chaka laka?! So chick don’t be mad when he just calls you for the booty!

So why, when I entered the good District of Columbia in hopes to find something to eat last night, did I spy a woman standing at the bus stop wearing a leopard print sleeveless top? This was cool cause it warm out and animal print in moderation is fashionable. But then she had the nerve to have on some school bus yellow spandex pants with a burnout cheetah print! Lawd have mercy upon us! I know that you good readers of the 5 spot have no idea the image I have in my mind as I type this from my desk. And really it’s hard for me to find the adjectives that aptly describe this woman’s assemble, but trust me the vision was enough to drive a person Oedipal, at least the eye gouging part. The image was enough that I am forgoing doing work to type about it!

When I realized that woman, who was fearfully and wonderfully made was going for a wild animal theme I wondered WTF? She was not a small woman, nor a very young woman, or a woman just going out to pick up the newspaper from her front stoop. Who she was trying to attract? Surely not a man with some sense, job, bank account or even all his teeth! But the question truly was, where in the world where her friends? Even if birds of a feather do flock together, she was just extra wrong enough for someone to have said something to her…even if it were merely a girl stop!

And these wrong-n-extra chicks are everywhere! And I’m confused if they are really confident or just so low on self esteem that it just don’t matter no mo!

Last month, Rum, Dark & Stormy, Courvoisier and I were at a night establishment, enjoying some music and chicken wings…when this 28 girl walked in wearing a short, short short Catholic school pleated skirt, pink polo tee and a backpack purse! After we got past the wrongness of the outfit we parked ourselves at the fact that who wears backpack purses in 2009 who are over the age of 12 and when it ain’t designer? The answer is NO ONE! But backpack purse aside I was mad at her friend. The one who was more decently dressed, the one who was encouraging her girl to get all extra low with it, so at times goodies where displayed to the masses. I was mad at the friend who kind of chuckled like the rest of us when her friend went past having a good time and was pretty much the fool of the night!

And now I wonder, what kind of friend does that?

See You In Seven

Monday, June 22, 2009

You Rap What You Know

So every once in a while, I end up having one of those conversations about rap music and how people just ain't saying nothing these days, which I have to say is true. The subject matter of most rap music making money or playing on the air waves, is pure garbage. Or maybe it is because this type rap music is just not speaking to what a mature individual would want to hear. Back in the day rap, like Amaretto was talking last week, had such richer topics for discussion. Now we have dudes rapping about how they could make a million without saying nothing on a track. And what's funny is? It did (chuckle)

Need I say more? (chuckle) I think I will.

These guys rap about what they know... could you be mad that? Let's use Soulja boy, my favorite adolescent rapper, for example. What you know, Soulja boy?

1. Crank That - "Soulja Boy off in this oh, Watch me crank it, watch me roll, Watch me crank dat, Soulja Boy, Then Superman dat oh"

Sounds like a couple of boys watching porn with nothing to do, who decide they going to play a silly prank on a chick. So better yet, they write a song about it and seeing that this is the first single, you have to put a dance to that ish!

"Now watch me youuuuuuuuu!" You know you want to dance right now... do it. (chuckle)

2. She Got A Donk - "Do the grown man"

And what is that? Are you acknowledging that you ain't grown. (chuckle) It is so cute that you do still try.

"Get low with it!" Even I know that one. (chuckle)

3. Report Card - "I took out my report card, looked at it all Fs on it, took it back to the teacher and told her throw some D's on it."

You ain't serious? Hot beat but really? D's? Come on. No further comment.

4. Kiss me Through the Phone - "She call my phone like, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da..."

This has got to be may favorite. What adults kissing through the phone? Speak up. That is like having sex in the car. I am sorry, I am grown. I only do those things for kicks now. I ain't kissing no one through the phone unless they in the middle east at war and I can't get there on no more than two connecting flights. (chuckle) What he doesn't tell you is why he can't get with you... is it curfew? (chuckle) Let me stop.

"6, 7, 8, triple 9, 8, 2, 1, 2" (chuckle)

5. Turn My Swagga On - "Hopped up off tha bed, Turn ma swag on, Took a look in tha mirror said wassup, Yeeeeea I'm gettin money."

Tell me this is not the ultimate hype song before a party to boost one self. I love it! As silly as it is. Loved it so much, I had to make the remix just for bed time. eh-em "Imma hop in bed, Turn ma swag off, took a look at the mirror said, good nite, yeeeeeaaa, get my nappin on." (chuckle) I am getting old. (chuckle)

"I got a question why they hatin on me" It would seem like that from this post but I'm not. Just pointing out that you are purely for entertainment purposes. You won't be joining me on that lonely island where I can only bring one CD. No-way... Soulja boy you sure tell' em!(chuckle)

And there you go 5 reasons why I just can't take you seriously but I will shake my butt to your music.

Much luv until next week... peace :)