A few weeks ago I had a conversation with a friend who divulged her trials and trepidations in the love chronicles. Needless to say, there is a guy she's been diggin and seein' for a while. However, she's hesistant to clear the air and claim him (remember what I told you). Now my friend spends alot of time with this guy-- I mean they really enjoy each other's company.
So, in an episode where they're enjoying each other's company she decides to cook for both of them. So the fella is laid back watching t.v. while my girl is in the kitchen dicing and splicing vegetables, sauteeing poultry, the waft of seasonings permeating the air... dinner is served. My girl sets the table, makes herself a plate and commences to eat, and didn't make him a plate? WTF...
She literally informs him everything is ready, help yourself to a plate and utensils. Ummmm... that's downright tacky. What stopped you from making his plate? She utters something nonsensical in an attempt to justify her actions. She was pretty defiant and feisty too, about not his making his plate...
Now this story would have no relevance, except my homegirl would like to be a wife in the near future. Well, "honey you got to get on your good feet" rest in peace James Brown. I'm an adamant believer that if you want something in life you need to start mimicking behavior associated with such attainment - i.e. dress for success. So, if you want to be a wife you need to exhibit compromise, selflessness, and love. Ironically, this guy she is diggin' has been raised in a culture where women cater to men literally on hand and foot. The way Bellini rationalizes things, "girlfriend can not pass GO, nor collect $200" sorry about the Monopoly reference, folks.... But, I mean really something has to give.
What my friend failed to realize about herself is that if you won't make his plate, you won't launder his linens, or do a whole lotta stuff for your man. And granted he's not her man, but perhaps that's why.
Ladies, make his plate puhleeezze!
cheers,
Bellini
Showing posts with label compromise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compromise. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Monday, November 5, 2007
Feet Don't Fail Me Now
I apologize in advance for the lengthiness of my spiel.
Rum Punch had my mind churning all weekend long after reading her post last Friday. She served that thang real nice- shaken well, a lil strong, and with just enough ice. I know many women who have an opinion about dating similar to the one Rum Punch shared with us. Please believe me when I tell you that I feel their pain. But I find it equally painful to hear my sistren tell the woes of dating, searching for the ONE, and the limited options with which they have to do so. What bothers me more than the obvious crisis at hand is the way in which we choose to manage it.
To my girl Rummy and other sistas who feel the way she does, I pose to you the following:
1) What happened to dating? Just dating.
You know when that thing where you go out with somebody and have fun. Get to know each other, experience something new… enjoying life in other words. Life is short. I’m not saying don’t plan for the future, but maybe enjoy some of today while you build for tomorrow. Make new friends. Switch up that boring ass routine of yours and create opportunities for yourself instead of waiting for someone else to present them to you.
I checked out dictionary.com for a couple of definitions.
Dating: an engagement to go out socially with another person, often out of romantic interest.
Mating: to match or marry.
Not quite the same meaning. While one can lead to the other, it doesn’t always happen in that order. Dating is like trying on twenty pairs of shoes in DSW and only coming out with two. You never would’ve seen those brown Stuart Weitzman boots on clearance if the red Calvin Klein pumps didn’t pinch your toes. When you get home and realize the boots don’t match the new dress in your closet, take them back. Get a refund or exchange them for another pair. Would you really keep a pair of shoes just because you couldn’t find a better pair? ‘Nuff said.
1) If you think your options are limited now, take into consideration that you’re looking for a husband and watch that narrow slice get split into slithers.
Don’t forget that it takes two so for every one of you ladies out there looking for a husband, not a date, there must be a man looking too for the match to occur. More than likely, that is not the case. There are many do-right brothas out there who are broom jumping material but not quite ready to jump at this moment. All the home cooking and good luvin’ in the world won’t change this until that man is ready. Period.
For the few desperate dudes who do fit into that ready right now category, don’t be scared when homie tells you about a chapel he’s had his eye on and how it must be fate that your size 7 finger fits his grandmother’s ring perfectly. You laugh, huh? Don’t act like you haven’t already picked out that Vera Wang bridal gown that matches your mama’s pearls.
2) Which husband would you prefer: the bus driver who comes home at a decent hour every day or the accountant who works 50+ hour weeks, travels 70% of the time, but makes 3x the bus driver’s salary?
I don’t know when dating/mating with the bus driver became bottom of the barrel (I kid, I kid), but I’m using this example because Rum Punch did. I work for a professional firm. The senior management staff practically lives, eats, and sleeps work. Raking in the dough. Their kids are well taken care of. Their wives are living the good life. Yet they are rarely home or spending time with their families.
Last year, a bus driver asked me out (true story, I swear). I rode his bus home every evening and we would engage in very stimulating conversation with topics ranging from the latest movies to government & politics. He’s a very nice man and we still kick it from time to time, I just wasn’t feeling him romantically. But he’s a perfect example of how you can limit your options by judging the book by its uniform. This man drives the bus part-time and teaches at a local college part-time. He is comfortable with both occupations. His reasons for driving the bus are that the transit department’s benefits are great & the pay is damn good. He started working at the college because he gave in after a dean tried continouously to recruit him for over two years. He also truly enjoys teaching. Last time I spoke with him, he was looking to enroll into a state university to earn a Master’s Degree in Education.
Not bad if you ask me. But I understand his profession is not image-worthy. It doesn’t garner the same status in society as a profession that requires you to wear a suit and necktie Monday thru Friday. It won't have your parents bragging to their buddies over a game of bid whist. Not quite enough to make your sorors jealous. And that's what truly matters, right?
3) Where did this notion come from that the majority of white people are earning big salaries?
It is true that people of color still don’t earn a dollar for every dollar earned by a white person in the same position. However, there are just as many white men who are plumbers, customer service reps, baristas, etc. as there are black men. Even if a white woman has more options, they’re not quite as lucrative as we like to assume. Remember Roseanne Connor and Peggy Bundy? Women like that really do exist. They outnumber the Carrie Bradshaws and Samantha Coopers in the world.
The Census Bureau reported the 2004 U.S. median household income was $44,334. People of color are still a minority in this country; therefore this median income is comprised mostly of the incomes of white folks. Keep that in mind the next time you [subconsciously] hate on white women and their “options”.
4) Would you accept a job offer for a position that you are overqualified for and that offered a lesser salary then what you are asked for?
Rum Punch mentioned our playing field not being level when it comes to dating. So true. As a black woman, most playing fields in my life are not even. Jobs and earning potential, shopping for credit lenders and decent interest rates, portrayal in the media, misogyny in hip-hop, oh I could go on all day! When it comes to equal opportunity, I am S.O.L. But why should I let that stop me?
I am a queen who deserves nothing less than a king. Every king's crown ain't blinged out with diamonds and platinum though. And nobody, no one, and not a damn soul can dictate who's fit to be my king but me. What I can tell you is my king will not be Mr. Right or Mr Right Enough. He will be Mr. Right for Me. Nothing less.
When I do find him (and damnit I will), I shall cherish him forever. 'Cause Rum Punch wasn't lying when she said it's hard out here for a pimp.
Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy
Rum Punch had my mind churning all weekend long after reading her post last Friday. She served that thang real nice- shaken well, a lil strong, and with just enough ice. I know many women who have an opinion about dating similar to the one Rum Punch shared with us. Please believe me when I tell you that I feel their pain. But I find it equally painful to hear my sistren tell the woes of dating, searching for the ONE, and the limited options with which they have to do so. What bothers me more than the obvious crisis at hand is the way in which we choose to manage it.
To my girl Rummy and other sistas who feel the way she does, I pose to you the following:
1) What happened to dating? Just dating.
You know when that thing where you go out with somebody and have fun. Get to know each other, experience something new… enjoying life in other words. Life is short. I’m not saying don’t plan for the future, but maybe enjoy some of today while you build for tomorrow. Make new friends. Switch up that boring ass routine of yours and create opportunities for yourself instead of waiting for someone else to present them to you.
I checked out dictionary.com for a couple of definitions.
Dating: an engagement to go out socially with another person, often out of romantic interest.
Mating: to match or marry.
Not quite the same meaning. While one can lead to the other, it doesn’t always happen in that order. Dating is like trying on twenty pairs of shoes in DSW and only coming out with two. You never would’ve seen those brown Stuart Weitzman boots on clearance if the red Calvin Klein pumps didn’t pinch your toes. When you get home and realize the boots don’t match the new dress in your closet, take them back. Get a refund or exchange them for another pair. Would you really keep a pair of shoes just because you couldn’t find a better pair? ‘Nuff said.
1) If you think your options are limited now, take into consideration that you’re looking for a husband and watch that narrow slice get split into slithers.
Don’t forget that it takes two so for every one of you ladies out there looking for a husband, not a date, there must be a man looking too for the match to occur. More than likely, that is not the case. There are many do-right brothas out there who are broom jumping material but not quite ready to jump at this moment. All the home cooking and good luvin’ in the world won’t change this until that man is ready. Period.
For the few desperate dudes who do fit into that ready right now category, don’t be scared when homie tells you about a chapel he’s had his eye on and how it must be fate that your size 7 finger fits his grandmother’s ring perfectly. You laugh, huh? Don’t act like you haven’t already picked out that Vera Wang bridal gown that matches your mama’s pearls.
2) Which husband would you prefer: the bus driver who comes home at a decent hour every day or the accountant who works 50+ hour weeks, travels 70% of the time, but makes 3x the bus driver’s salary?
I don’t know when dating/mating with the bus driver became bottom of the barrel (I kid, I kid), but I’m using this example because Rum Punch did. I work for a professional firm. The senior management staff practically lives, eats, and sleeps work. Raking in the dough. Their kids are well taken care of. Their wives are living the good life. Yet they are rarely home or spending time with their families.
Last year, a bus driver asked me out (true story, I swear). I rode his bus home every evening and we would engage in very stimulating conversation with topics ranging from the latest movies to government & politics. He’s a very nice man and we still kick it from time to time, I just wasn’t feeling him romantically. But he’s a perfect example of how you can limit your options by judging the book by its uniform. This man drives the bus part-time and teaches at a local college part-time. He is comfortable with both occupations. His reasons for driving the bus are that the transit department’s benefits are great & the pay is damn good. He started working at the college because he gave in after a dean tried continouously to recruit him for over two years. He also truly enjoys teaching. Last time I spoke with him, he was looking to enroll into a state university to earn a Master’s Degree in Education.
Not bad if you ask me. But I understand his profession is not image-worthy. It doesn’t garner the same status in society as a profession that requires you to wear a suit and necktie Monday thru Friday. It won't have your parents bragging to their buddies over a game of bid whist. Not quite enough to make your sorors jealous. And that's what truly matters, right?
3) Where did this notion come from that the majority of white people are earning big salaries?
It is true that people of color still don’t earn a dollar for every dollar earned by a white person in the same position. However, there are just as many white men who are plumbers, customer service reps, baristas, etc. as there are black men. Even if a white woman has more options, they’re not quite as lucrative as we like to assume. Remember Roseanne Connor and Peggy Bundy? Women like that really do exist. They outnumber the Carrie Bradshaws and Samantha Coopers in the world.
The Census Bureau reported the 2004 U.S. median household income was $44,334. People of color are still a minority in this country; therefore this median income is comprised mostly of the incomes of white folks. Keep that in mind the next time you [subconsciously] hate on white women and their “options”.
4) Would you accept a job offer for a position that you are overqualified for and that offered a lesser salary then what you are asked for?
Rum Punch mentioned our playing field not being level when it comes to dating. So true. As a black woman, most playing fields in my life are not even. Jobs and earning potential, shopping for credit lenders and decent interest rates, portrayal in the media, misogyny in hip-hop, oh I could go on all day! When it comes to equal opportunity, I am S.O.L. But why should I let that stop me?
I am a queen who deserves nothing less than a king. Every king's crown ain't blinged out with diamonds and platinum though. And nobody, no one, and not a damn soul can dictate who's fit to be my king but me. What I can tell you is my king will not be Mr. Right or Mr Right Enough. He will be Mr. Right for Me. Nothing less.
When I do find him (and damnit I will), I shall cherish him forever. 'Cause Rum Punch wasn't lying when she said it's hard out here for a pimp.
Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy
Thursday, October 11, 2007
what are we here for?
This guy has been on my mind all week, not in some weird stalkerish way and not because he did anything particularly groundbreaking this week, although in a sense, he does something groundbreaking every week. I tried to post about love/relationships, the confusing twenties or even how much I hate my job but I just kept coming back to him … Bryan Stevenson. This weekend, during one of my monthly visits back home I was perusing my mail (yes, it still gets sent to my mama house…I can’t let go). Anyway, as I laid aside another student loan bill *sigh*... there he was...on the cover of my alumni magazine and I smiled, excitedly thinking, it’s Bsteve! That’s what we called him. We meaning the small cadre of liberal ladies with whom I hung out during law school. We gushed and smiled during his death penalty class, amazed at this man who seemed to us to be the most wonderful person on earth but also the most perplexing. Here was a relatively young (and handsome!) single black man who had dedicated his life to representing those without a voice, expressing dedication on the level of God-like sacrifice. Truly, if Jesus walks among us, Prof. Stevenson could surely be Him!
There were no signs of a wife or a family or even the semblance of a personal life. He shuttled weekly to the city to teach several classes at the law school and then back again to Montgomery, Alabama to oversee the organization he had built from the ground-up. He is profound and thoughtful while also remaining down to earth and approachable….he even plays in the faculty basketball game each year.
As I paged through the article on the plane ride back to my life as it now exists, his eloquence in discussing his life commitment to helping exonerate those condemned to death as well as righting the wrongs within our criminal (in)justice system made me began to wonder, what had happened to me….where was the girl who had avoided tax law and corporations courses like the plague, who was all over any thing criminal or civil rights-oriented, who had written her personal statement about starting her own organization to help educate “her people” so that they would be better able to confront the man, the system, the popos! Where was she? I suddenly got angry at myself for having forgotten her, letting the slightly lazy, shopaholic, worried-about-student-loans me sweep us into the corporate machine.
Of course, this life, my life is not so black and white: I can’t just leave my job today and take a vow of poverty a la BSteve. Like I could really live off only $18K a year while turning over the rest of the offered $50K salary to charity. The student loan man (in my mind, it's always a sour-faced old White man sitting on stacks of my money, collecting more each month) is not gonna let me forgo these monthly payments simply because I now want to change course. And I surely couldn’t relinquish my desire for a husband and children, traveling, and just doing something frivolous every once in a while. Somehow, I don’t think that’s in my nature. But still, even given these considerations, it’s hard to read the story of Prof. Stevenson and not question oneself, his life being a sort of quiet indictment of the way in which I, and young (Black) lawyers generally, can go about the business of mind-numbing doc review and attempts to help corporation X avoid big bad lawsuit Y for 60-80 hours per week without seeing his sacrifice and feeling a little guilty. Especially for someone like me who has dreams of doing such things, took classes to help prepare me for the work and yet am now so far from it. As my grandmama says, if you know better, why don’t you do better? Or better yet, what am I here for?
That’s why I’ve been thinking about this man all week. And I hope that after reading this post and this piece, you will think on him a little bit in the coming week as well and ask yourself these same questions.
“The real question isn’t whether some people deserve to die for crimes they may have committed. The real question is whether a state such as Alabama, with its racist legacy and error plagued system of justice, deserves to kill.”
Bryan Stevenson, as told to Paul Barrett, “Bryan Stevenson’s Death-Defying Acts,”
Bryan Stevenson, as told to Paul Barrett, “Bryan Stevenson’s Death-Defying Acts,”
The Law School Magazine, August 2007
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
It's not money, your momma or the kids...but those cups
Happy Tuesday Ya'll! Monday is over and done with and I know you are beginning to daydream about the weekend ahead. All you have to do now is get through Hump Day and Friday Eve! Just remember that Tuesdays are rubies and special things happen on this day of the week too. After all there is reading about what is going on in my world. And there are two for one pizza specials at Domino's. And...uh. Wow. That's really all that I've got right now. So let me start explaining about the cups.
So my cousin told me that all it takes to save a relationship is cups. Yes, you did read that correctly! Tumblers, stemware and those red plastics are all a person needs to deal with a vengeful woman or a cheating man. It's time to start marching down to stores for cups people. Ladies-you don't have to slash those tires! Fellas-leave those flowers at the florist!
shrek and donkey are off to save relationships
Okay, so I took a little creative liberty with what my cousin was saying. Her message was truly about compromise. Cousin's husband would wash dishes but he put the cups in the wrong place. She would kindly tell him, in a way that only a woman can, that he had put them in the wrong place. He acknowledged her concern. And the next time, you know what he did ya'll? He still put them in the wrong place! Well understandably, she was ready to divorce him. She had her "Free at Last" dance (that oddly resembled a cript walk) ready. But she realized that he wasn't some fanatic lover of dishes, and probably did not enjoy washing them. Ideally, Cousin's husband would have washed, dried and put the cups in the proper place-but alas the world isn't ideal. So she accepted what he was doing, and so since she had a problem with the cups she would move them. Wow right? Now in my mind I wondered how cup retrieval went down in their household, but I dared not ask. I mean if I tell someone the right way (or at least my way) to do something I don't want to have to clean up after them later-what's the point in that? But she's happy with her choice to quell a minor battle about cups. And over a decade later they are still together...
I realize that this was a strange Hi-my name is Amaretto-first-entry but it's whats on a girl's mind this Tuesday afternoon. You'll learn to bare with me. Dealing with others be it at home, work or just on the street can be a real challenge. Let's be selective in the battles we chose to fight.
See You in Seven,
Amaretto
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