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?

on love

All I am a heart for you

All I am available to you

All I am desperate for you

All I am in love with you

~ "All I Am" KiKi Sheard

This past weekend I went to a wedding. And for all my tendencies toward hateration concerning this union, it was a lovely event. You'd have to have a true heart of stone, be the coldest bitch on earth, ice cold, to not feel a glimmer of something, a tingle of joy perhaps at two people committing themselves fully to each other for life in front of so many witnesses.

Considering all the "drama" that has taken place, all the breakups and makeups, disappointments and betrayals that can (and did) occur behind the scenes of the blessed nuptials, one often wonders how could she pledge her life to him after all he's done, how could he knowingly lock himself in to one woman for life?

More simply put… What is love? Is that really love? and if so, is it possible to have the good love without the "bad"?

From the outside looking in, it's sooo easy to judge, to say yay or nay. To discuss ad nauseum with other non-married, non-boo'd up, non-in-love women whether what two people share is or isn't love. To speculate about what one would and would not take, about what one wouldn't tolerate. You know you've asked yourself, how could he/she possibly love the object of their affection when they do such f'ed up things to the other person or take such gutter treatment in the name of love.

I've even been guilty of going so far as to say...if that is love, I want no parts of "that" kind of love. But I recently had to rethink that statement. For who am I to say, sitting safely in my "not-in-love" courtside seats, getting a bird's eye view of what I don't have, that I wouldn't take the good with the bad in order to experience such deep soul-tingling love, or whatever you want to call it.

Granted, there have and will continue to be some caveats to (it just wouldn't be mint julep without the caveats and the common sense). Some things, some very bad things, we can as a community objectively say are not worth the love. i.e. public beatdowns, death threats, incurable and infectious diseases transmitted without the others knowledge. but then you get closer to the edge of that slippery slope of infidelity, unavailability and brokeassness.

So what pushes a person over the edge, to become and remain so in love that they take treatment that objectively doesn't reflect LOVE? Me no know. I'd imagine love to be, what it means to truly be in love with someone, is to give yourself so fully and completely trusting that the other person will hold you down. But do we have a choice in the matter? Some say love is a choice. Others say that you can't chose who you fall in love with. I'm not sure where I fall in the debate. Cause at this moment I have a few automatic love forfeiture clauses that I can't see myself doing away with.

Yet, like the chicken-egg circular debate, I'm not in love, at least not like the couple I saw get married, so how can I say what is and is not worth the love? Can you?

All In The Name Of Love

Say hooray to the bad guy, and all the broads
Puttin' cars in they name for the stars of the game
Puttin caine in their bras and their tomorrows on the train
All in the name of love
- Jay Z, Allure

Hey y’all! So, rumor has it that Jayonce finally tied the knot. If this is true, I wish nothing but well wishes to the happy couple! I know what you’re thinking, that I don’t even know Jay Z or Beyonce. And that might be true. In theory. Believe me, I know them. Because dang it, I know their music.

You see whilst I’m on the train, during my to work and back home commute, I likes to listen to my ipod and when a Jay Z song comes on, I bob my head, but I also pay close attention to certain lyrics- like I’ve never heard them before. Cause they always make me go hmmm… Lyrics like the one quoted above or: To all the girls I bought the girdle to conceal my bricks, no doubt they can vouch my life is real as shit, or: A nigga had very bad credit, you helped me lease that whip, you helped me get the keys to that V dot 6, or: to little Kim and them you know the women friend who carry the work cross state for a gentleman, make my mind drift to the Marcy Housing Projects (come with me whilst I travel there) and I wonder, if half of what Hova says is true, then how many women are there still in Marcy or BK or NYC or shit even VA for that matter, (since he spent some time down here) reminiscing about once being Jay Z’s boo? And if so then who are these women? And what have they done with their lives?

Are they the clichéd baby mamas, still living in the projects, telling their children that they coulda still been Jay Z right now if only…? Did any of them take what x amount of money they were making from crossing state lines and start a business, buy a house, shit put some of that money in savings for a rainy day?

Are they some bitter bitches who gather monthly at their ‘We Usta Mess with Jay Z’ meetings to talk about how they put their credit on the line for him, that no one was even feeling his camel looking ass until x happened, and can't no one love him like they did anyway? And then do they share a laugh and say to each other but he damn sure knew what to do with them soup coolers…

I mean who was the first woman who really said to Jay Z, “let me upgrade you” and introduced his ass to Fifth Avenue? Who is the woman who had to listen to his first rhymes, go with him to the studio, put up with Dame Dash’s nonsense, all the while smiling and being like, “yeah, you goin’ to be famous baby…” Could she not hold out? Did she give up on him? Did he drop her once he got a taste of the good life?

Yeah, these are my train musings. Completely off base? Me thinks not. Cause I know a lot of women have a man they are no longer with who is now, finally, doing something with his life. And you’re stuck watching another woman reap all the benefits, all the hard work that you put into "fixing him up" and making him "presentable" to the world. Now, you are sitting on the sidelines talking bout, “he couldn’t even dress before he met me.” And it hurts, don’t it?

I mean let’s say you were someone’s woman while he was in law school. And you had tons of late night conversations, hearing him talk about how hard school was, that he had a big exam coming up and didn’t know if he were going to pass, and that he had to figure out his future. And you had to push him, encourage him, believe in him, deal with his mood swings, devote hours, months and maybe years to him, all the while wanting to ask, “so are you going to marry me or what, man?” And then he didn’t. Y’all broke up. And you watched some other woman just swoop down, like she was just waiting for you to get him ready for her, spend the six figures he is making at his corporate law firm, when you remember him talking about how he wanted to do something in the community, work with his people.

What hurts the most? Is it his leaving? Is it having to watch another woman be with the person you once and may still love? Is it recognizing how much that person grew (not changed) while he was with you and now that woman is getting a “better” version? Is it a combination of all these things? For me, I liken it to that scene in School Daze, when they were in their last phase of pledging, about to cross, and Tisha Campbell & Jasmine Guy are helping Half Pint aka Spike Lee hold up his torch. And Big Brother comes over and yells at them and tells them to move it along cause Half Pint has to do it on his own. And Jasmine Guy says, in her real, you must not know bout me voice, “you forget I helped your ass last year…” That’s what hurts, the wondering if we meant as much to you as you meant to us. The wondering if you realize all that we did for you, just for the possibility of being with you. The wondering if you forgot about those things, forgot about us. And the hard, bitter pill to swallow, the realization that maybe you did…

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