running cross my mind

it's that time of night.  when the sun has gone home to rest. the moon has come out to play.  you've been working all day.  perhaps out for a night with the girls.  but now you're inside.  home.  alone.  stripped down to your t-shirt and your panties.  crawled into bed.  pulled the covers way up over your head.  and waited for sleep to come. over take your body.  quiet your  thoughts.

of him.

you place the phone on the nightstand.  slide it as far away from your itching fingers as it will possibly go.  you could just turn it off.  or put it in the front room.  but what if someone tries to reach you?  what if someone dies in the middle of the night?  or has the irrepressible urge to hear your voice at 3 am?

like you long to hear his.

that's when the feeling comes on the strongest.

to grab it back.  scroll through the phone book.  select his name and start typing.

hey. how u? what ya doin?
i miss you.
u up?

and then you stare at the screen.  the words.  going over in your mind all the reasons why this is such a bad idea.  or all the ways that this might be just the thing to open up the lines of communication.

but "you know if you pick up that phone, write that letter, send that two way, you gon say some things" that you might regret.  and he might say somethings.  do somethings. plan somethings that you don't really really want to happen.  aren't trying to do.  but something is better than nothing right?  you just want to hear from him. talk to him.  see him. 

or he might not respond at all.  and then you're worse off than you were before you caved to your weaker inner woman.

cause you had said you wasn't gonna text/call/blackberry messenger/gchat/facebook his ass no mo.  and you meant that.  you promised yourself, your 3 best girfriends and baby Jesus himself that you were done.  that it wasn't worth it.  that it wasn't goin nowhere.  that it had been over for weeks, months, years. that you wasn't really feelin him like that to begin with.  so why pass the time or fill the space with something less than? 

and you can't go back on your word.

even if it's that time of the night.  and you're lonely.  and you want to so so badly.  and you could blame it on the alcohol and the hour.

but you can't
you won't
you don't

cause that would be too desparate.  a lil thirsty.  bold and brazen.  un-lady like.  out of order.  and against everything you promised yourself you wouldn't do.

so you reach out, place the phone back on the nightstand. breathe deeply.  close your eyes.  and let common sense quiet that voice inside your head.  let sleep overrule that part of you that wants to give in.

stay strong.  until tomorrow night.

single woman's burden

I’m one of those women who likes to stay “friends” with exes. And when I say friends I mean call randomly from time to time just to see how said exes are making out in life. Most often my relationships start off on the friend level so I usually like to keep the “friend love” alive after we part ways.

One of these exes I call once every 6 to 12 months just to say hello. We went to law school at the same time so I’m especially interested in what he's up to professionally and like to keep the networking connection alive. Feel free to debate the utility of and justification for my random phone calls. Or whether I should expect him to still be taking my calls after 5+ years.

Usually when I call Mr. X, we talk about the legal job market, how much we love or hate our respective jobs and sprinkle in an “are you dating anyone?” for politeness. This time around, Mr. X had some news in the love department. Homeboy done jumped the broom! My first thought was damn Gina! Is everyone I know married, on their way down the aisle or actively looking? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a love hater. I love love, weddings and all that jazz. So I was genuinely happy for him. The curious kitty in me wanted to ask all kinds of questions like where’d you meet her, how long did ya’ll date, what she look like, married dude really? I asked none of these cause that would be creepy and weird. Instead I simply congratulated him and continued the conversation.

But in the way that married folks, boo-ed up sistafriends, and random black men do, he proceeded to hit me with the “Why are you still single?”

Boooo, Mr. X, booooooo! As if singleness was some disease to be cured. Some temporary state to be suffered through until you hooked up with someone and all your cares in life were erased.

I stumbled through the generic you know I’m just working on me man and the other obligatory men don’t get me. But looking back I wish I had said something a little bit more “Yaaa trick Yaaaa!”

My single ladies out there feel me. I held in my “Nigga why?” and just kept it civil. Cause that's what we as single women do. When asked, we retreat and feel ashamed for not having some magical I AM WOMAN answer. Maybe mofo's should stop asking cause actually it's kinda rude. Folks don't go around asking they obese auntie who's been adding on 25 lbs each year, why you still fat? That cousin we all got who only calls when he locked up looking for that bail money, yeah him? We don't ask him, Why you still broke?

Exactly! So how bout ya'll stop asking me why I'm still single?

the end.

Giving It Up Is Hard To Do...

Hey ladies. I said hey ladies. Have you ever looked at a man you once had relations with, sighed and then thought to yourself, “why did I give him some of my goodies?” The way you came to this conclusion may not have had anything to do with him having been bad in bed (although that may be a contributing factor), it could just be that in the light of day, you are upset that you let another person (who turned out to be a waste of your damn time) into your special place, your va-jay-jay as it were. Another number to add to your list of sexual partners. I mean not that you are ever “honest” with others about your number, of course you have to subtract the ones that didn’t really count or happened sooo long ago…but you know you keep the real number in your head. And no one likes for that number to keep on rising, so this can lead to keeping your legs closed and waiting until the right person comes along who is worthy of your goodies. This can be described as celibacy by choice. There is of course, celibacy by happenstance.

Celibacy by happenstance is when there’s no one around for you to give your goodies to. You may have come out of a long relationship and are still healing, or you finally came to your senses and cut that cut buddy off…Basically you haven’t met anyone new who is worth your time or is catching your eye, and so you find yourself without the ‘D’ in your life. And you can go weeks and even months without really thinking about it. You are just out living life, meeting people, volunteering at nursing homes, reading to the blind, finding a cure for cancer, starting enterprises, just doing you. And it doesn’t even seep into your mind: “hey I haven’t had relations with anyone in awhile…” And by the time it does, when you look at a calendar and count how long it’s been, you realize that it hasn’t been so bad, that you’re still able to function, that you can keep it moving…And you know that you’ll get it again, so there’s no panic or worry. Unfortunately there is the chance that you break your happenstance celibacy in a moment of weakness or horniness which usually never ends up being a good thing.

Aaah but when you are celibate by choice, either because you have decided to rededicate your life to Christ and wait until marriage, or to find yourself (you know the real you) and you can’t get to know the real you when you are sleeping with someone else, or perhaps you’re just fed up with giving up the goodies and not getting anything in return…In any case, when you say to yourself “I ain’t fucking no mo’”, that is when things get hard (pun intended). You get that little itch in your special place, not an STD itch, but that ‘girl you need to go ahead and get you some’ itch. Suddenly every man who walks by looks good and you start wondering what he’s like in bed, if he likes to travel down South, if he can smack it up, flip it, rub it down…ok I’m getting carried away.

The point is that when you make that conscious decision to keep your legs closed, that’s when you are hit with the temptations. Men you haven’t spoken to in months start sniffing around trying to get into your pocketbook.* And then you have flashbacks of how he smacked it up, flipped it, rubbed it down and you want to call him back and say “come on over…” But you come to your senses and get out those batteries. Ex-boyfriends who you know ain’t shit, start calling, talking all sweet and low, trying to wriggle themselves back into your life and more importantly into and onto your pillow.

It’s like your va-jay-jay has put out an A.P.B.: Calling all men, calling all men, we’ve got a woman who is considering celibacy. Somebody call her out the blue, send her a friendly email, randomly show up at her house-anything to stop her progress! Suddenly the two of y'all become enemies, as she becomes one uppity negro. That heifer starts to betray you at every turn, jumping and twitching in a fine man’s presence, talking bout, “girl come on, just get a taste, just let him put the head in…That’s all you need, just this one time…” So you have to fight her, wrestle her to the ground, knock her out, and tell that bitch to BE-HAVE! Tell her, “I rebuke thee! The Devil is a liar!”

On top of fighting temptations at every turn, you start remembering sex and how it used to be, start getting urges in the middle of work while you’re sitting at the computer, wishing that somebody would just walk up behind you and kiss you on your neck. Been such a long time… Of course thinking of sex only makes you irritable which leads you to start snapping at people. Got friends talking behind your back, or (if they’re your real friends) to your face even, being like “you need to get your Susie ate…” Aaah yes, it’s true what they say: Sex is a Misdemeanor, the more you miss, da meaner you get…

The final straw is when you just start to let yourself go, like you have lost your will to live. You stop shaving your legs, or getting waxed in those crucial places, no more pedicures unless it’s summertime. And you may start walking around and embodying that ‘who’s going to see it mentality?’ This is never a good look. Don’t ever let it get this far! Please stay hair free, done up and beautiful at all times because you see yourself everyday! Everybody say “aaawwwww….”

I have been celibate both by happenstance and by choice before; and eventually have been broken down by some smooth talk and my own weakness. But as I grow in many aspects of my life and try to find myself by myself, I’m going to give this celibacy a try one mo’gin. So, if my posts get a little irritable, I know that y’all will understand and say to yourself, “oh that’s just ‘cause she ain’t getting none.” And I ain’t. But that’s my choice.

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

*Yes, I took it old school with that one.