Focused on the good.

This past weekend has got to be one of those weekends where your strength is truely tested. I am not sure how I didn't break down in tears from frustration, anger and disappointment. I guess I must a stronger person now.

Here is the recap:

1. Finished building a piece I had been working on for the past 8 weeks. Not the happiest about the proportions. (deep sigh) Time to make a new one.

2. Get home at 11 pm to work on a project I already explained to the VPs of my company is not physically possible. Up all night through the snow... nap at 4... back up at 6pm and so this pattern continues.*

3. Friday night I rebel with a break to find the inside of my car filled with snow. SNOW! Why would my car be filled with snow? Ahh, let's see because someone managed to get into my gated parking lot that I pay extra for and break into my car?!?! Are you sersious and yet there was nothing for you to take.

4. Then as I try to put plastic on my car incase it snows some more, due to fatigue and emotions overload, I slit my hand on the broken glass.

5. Saturday... paid out to fix that window. There goes the play money this week.

*It is not just me working these crazy hours, I have my whole department and others breaking their backs and I am not even sure what for. (deep sigh)

I had to focus on the GOOD! So let me tell this story again...

1. Thursday - On my fourth attempt to build a fountain, I succeed and learn a lot about timing and what is going to be needed to complete this project. I look forward to making the next one even better than this one.

2. When I reviewed what my team's work, I was relieved... the revisions I had were minor. They really stepped up to the plate after weeks of training.

3. Friday - Shoveling snow out of my car I found my friend's iPod under the seat. LOL! The bastards didn't find it but... WE did after a week of looking, thanks to them. OH and nothing was taken from my car.

4. Saturday - I was really afraid my hand wouldn't stop bleeding but it did. YAY! No stitches.

5. At least I had the money to get a new window and I was the first stop for the day so I was good by 10 a.m.

6. After all this Semi-colon stops by to chill for a minute (which is really hours) and help me put together my write-up for a charity show that was the next day.

7. Show went well with a lot of positive feedback.

This weekend could have been a lot worst... I could have been in Chile Saturday morning.

Much luv with focus on the good until next week... peace :)

Mr. Good Bar

Hey y’all! So last week I provided this article by Lori Gottlieb. I wrote about one aspect of the article – being lonely. And promised to tackle her other point -what some may call “settling,” but what Gottlieb chooses to call, “choosing Mr. Good Enough.” Yes, as opposed to holding out and waiting for THE ONE!

While I didn’t go purchase the book, so I don’t have all the details – I understood right away what she was trying to say. Get that ‘perfect man, Mr. Right vision’ out of your head and come back to reality. And I knew all week exactly what I was going to say in this here post.

And then yesterday someone sent me this article about a Black woman, Karyn Langhorne Folan, who has married a white man, written a book titled, Don't Bring Home a White Boy: And Other Notions That Keep Black Women From Dating Out, and is now encouraging us Black women to expand our minds and date outside our race. Thanks, lady. Where would I be without you? Since there’s an abundance of available white men in the DC metro, with your great advice, I will be Mrs. Rum Punch in a year! Huzzah!

Siiiiiggghhh.

Look, I get it. People have ideas. That’s why I come here and share my thoughts once a week. It’s what keeps people tied to twitter. It’s why people pick up the pen or the laptop and write pages upon pages of what will someday become a book. And I’m not saying that these ideas have no merit or value. I’m just saying that at some point, don’t we have to be gosh darn individuals and figure things out for our own lives? Cause what worked for Michelle O, or Hillary Clinton even, or Alma Powell, or your sister, or your homegirl, or that chick who works on the fifth floor, or your momma, may not work for you. Or me.

And who am I? And what do I want? And what do I need? What can I handle? What do I desire? Ok, but what is realistic? And what is my ultimate goal? These are crucial questions that everyone must ask him/herself when looking for a mate. Or a house. Or a vacation. Or a car. Or a puppy. Or a stock broker. Or a new hairdresser. Or a job. Etcetera, etcetera. But let’s focus on a mate.

The elusive person you’re supposed to be with. Apparently this is where us women need the most help. Especially us Black women, with our high standards and our superficiality. This is when people shove books, news segments, 'Mama I Want a Huzband' musicals, and the Good Book in our faces and say that we need to – try the blue collar brotha, the white man, the Asian doctor who’ll also cook for you, the short guy, the chunky one, the widower, the old man, and so on.

Very rarely, does anyone just give it to you straight, unless you’re Dark and Stormy’s mama of course (ha this like D&S’s third shout out – she’s gonna be mad at me) and tell you very simply to find someone who’s good for you. And then leaves you standing there literally and figuratively to figure out what that means for you. Thus forcing you to figure out who you are and what you need.

Timeout!
Y'all it never ceases to amaze me that when I watch Wife Swap how many "crazy" couples are out in this world. There'll be a wife who is a practicing witch. Or one who runs the house like a drill Sargent. Or a wife who has decided to say f-convention and be an acrobatic/clown. Or who insists on living in a trailer because she's afraid of houses. Or a wife who demands breakfast in bed every morning and her feet kissed at night. And I'll be like that lady is insane! And yet there she is part of a two, having found someone who could live with alladat, who is seemingly getting their needs and desires met, who considers those to be "quirks" that make her special while the rest of the world may see them as crazy. These women found someone good for them. And them alone. Even though it often leaves me and I'm sure a majority of viewers baffled at how she did it. Lol.
Time in!

Because as a woman who’s pushing 30, with all these old church ladies tellin’ me I got time, on the flip side of that some of 'em seem to think picking my- emphasis on my- mate is like being blindfolded and playing a game of pin the tail on the donkey and it doesn't matter if I'm nowhere close to the tail, saying things like, "well such and such is nice...” Ok ma, and? But is he nice for me? Is he good for me? Will he be good to me? I’ve dated a variety of men – some were quite handsome, some short, some razzle dazzled me, some chubby, some professional, some not, some funny, some dull, some assholes, some kind - overall, on the surface, seemed to be decent guys.

But not good for me because – they lied, we didn’t share the same values, they weren’t supportive of my dreams and aspirations, they were looking for a Stepford wife, we didn’t speak the same love language, they lacked ambition, we had different views on family and rearing children, we lacked proper communication, and so on.

Ahhhh... But to get to the good - one must strip away all the bullshyt - both yours and your potential mate's. Re-evaluate. Prioritize. And then work to uncover the best. Ooo didn't that sound good and profound? Y'all be on the lookout for my new book - A Good, Better, Best You: Finding Someone to Mate Your Life With. Available on Amazon, disappearing bookstores everywhere, and at half price with your next Tyler Perry movie ticket.

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

GONE PARTYING!

Having a pre-concert drank before going to see Jay Z. And Trey Songz. Lord, Lord. See y'all next week!

times up!

It first hit me last week, while reading the Washington Post. He was backkkkk.... Former Mayor, Councilman Marion S. Barry was fodder for urrrea news again. Oh, Barry. Stop the presses, I've had enough. Retire, resign, pick any r you want. This circus has to stop. Accountability is long overdue. You're giving me a headache as I write this post. And the fact that I read Colbert King's op-ed yesterday, so spot-on, prescient in it's delivery - reminded me again why Barry must go.

I'm tired of the "b*tch set me up!" It befuddles me why we have a hard time taking accountability. And I would think Barry - you would want to enjoy your twilight years away from the media spotlight. Go pop the popcorn, as the circus will ensue. Next act - DC City Council... and the clock continues to tick-tock...

cheers,

Bellini

Moving On... maybe? again?

This weekend I pondered whether another opportunity to move on the horizon is right. It seems as if a few months ago, I was thinking about the same thing. Well it appears as if it back on the table and this time I am ready to entertain it again. Most people are somewhat confused as to why I would consider moving again but I believe timing is sometimes everything.

New York did not line up. There were significant aspects that I couldn't make sense of hence no move.

Boston, the new opportunity is showing promise. I have told very few people about this opportnity and yet I got a few God winks in that direction. First my boss mentions it, then my studio director reccomends I visit Boston for a workshop and now my boss is mentioning it again.
Maybe the New York offer was to get me thinking about moving. I was getting comfortable in this loft space. Parts of me feel like my life at this particular studio is coming to an end too. I have learned a lot but it maybe time for another mentor. Boston is the home of two artists I have been eyeing for a while. One of them friends of my current mentor and whose workshop I am considering attending.

At the end of the day though, I know that my goals haven't changed. I have a huge idea brewing for the ultimate debut solo show, so we shall see. Watching Alexander McQueen's shows reminded me to kick it up a notch!



Much luv until next week... peace :)

P.S. Fantasy dating update: Semi-colon is holding on strong in first place.

I Get So Lonely

A while ago I mentioned that I was going to write a post about sometimes I wish I were a whore. But I decided to save it for another day. Well today’s the day. Lol. So as Courvoisier once wrote – everyone’s definition of a ho is different and susceptible to change depending on the circumstances. But for the purpose of this post I mean it as someone who sleeps with another woman’s man. Knowingly. On purpose.

So yeah sometimes I wish I was a whore or had ho like tendencies cause sometimes I get so lonely and I can let just anybody hold me. This article in the Washington Post was written by Lori Gottlieb, a 40 year old single woman who is now a single mother – she had a donor – she discusses how she wishes she had chosen Mr. Good Enough. We’ll get to that next week in our next Looking For Your Daddy episode. Today we’ll deal with the other half of the article. Being lonely. She writes:

It's not that women like her feel incomplete without a partner. And of course, not all women are looking for a long-term monogamous relationship. But still, if no man is an island, most women aren't either. How lonely it was, before I had my son, to wake up in an empty house every morning, eat breakfast alone, read the paper alone, do the dishes alone. How dispiriting it felt to move to a new place alone, to shop for groceries for only myself, to have nobody to talk to in those sleepy moments before bed except for girlfriends on the phone, chatting about -- what else? -- men.

But saying this aloud makes people uncomfortable. I got an e-mail from a never-married single mother like me who said that when she shared her loneliness on a single-mom listserv, people told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and to "get a life." One woman even suggested that if she was so unhappy being a single mother, she should put her child in foster care.

There is so much truth in this. I don’t think it’s PC for women especially if she got her own house, got her own car, two jobs work hard she a bad broad – to admit that she gets lonely. And f- all that dating and romanctical stuff. Sometimes she needs the weight of a man on top. Or just beside her in bed. Any man. An ex man. A young man. An ugly man. A dull man. Your man.

But women who love the Lord, have family and friends, travel, read books, have hobbies, see plays are not supposed to be lonely. Apparently that emotion was removed the day we got our college degrees. And as antiquated as it sounds, I think we heterosexual women who have partaken in D at lest once in our lives or ever been kissed real good can agree that there’s something about having a man around. The convos are different than with your girls. And sometimes they’re mo’ better. There’s flirting. And tingles. The heavy lifting gets done. The shoveling. The bug killing. The urges are met and tended to. There’s the sense of safety and security no matter how false it may be. I mean I think every single woman can belt out the chorus of Stephanie Mills’ Comfort of a Man and truly mean it.

And now as I get older and the nights get longer and the other side of the bed gets cold © Little Brother, and I'm not saying I would partake in such behavior, but I like Chris Rock, I understand how women can give up and say, “I’ll take your man” for the night at least. Shoot I had an opportunity presented to me recently. Don’t worry I passed. But fake intimacy can kinda sorta feel like the real thing if you close your eyes tight enough, no? Having someone in your bed, your space, your life, when it’s just you waking up alone, doing it all alone, looks good from a distance. And feels even better in reality.

Of course I know things always go badly when you try to do things the easy way. Heh. And so like Tupac told me to do, I keep my head up and try not to wallow in the feelings for too long. But sometimes I wonder if as you age, do things get worse or easier? Does the loneliness settle into your bones like arthritis and just become a part of you? And you just take two pills of reality and keep it moving? I know several Black women who’ve never married or been alone and the topic of loneliness is rarely discussed. And it’s a taboo subject. Cause when you’ve been blessed, you’re supposed to be happy at all times. You know.

But as I watch these women conquer the world, be that badd chick, I wonder if even in a room full of people do they sometimes feel totally and utterly alone? Do they sometimes cry in the dark? Or in the daylight on their way to work? Do they sometimes just want to lean into someone else’s arms to be held and feel weightless? I mean like George Clooney’s character said in Up in the Air: “Everybody needs a co-pilot. Life’s better with company.” Even if they can’t spend the night...

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

Cause Dark and Stormy knows how much I'm loving this song...

40 days and 40 nights

New Orleans is a big Catholic town and after they go hard during the Mardi Gras season, everybody settles down for Lent.

Lent, in Christian tradition, is the period of the liturgical year leading up to Easter. The traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer — through prayer, penitence, almsgiving and self-denial — for the annual commemoration during Holy Week of the Death and Resurrection of Jesus, which recalls the events linked to the Passion of Christ and culminates in Easter, the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Although I'm not Catholic, I like that folks round these parts go without this vice or that indulgence for 40 days. And since I'm Christian I figure I can get in on Lent and give up a few things.

1. beef & pork
2. texting/calling these nigs
3. french fries
4. relations

What are you giving up for lent?