I hail from the great state of Arkansas. Formerly known as the Land of Opportunity, smarter heads prevailed and decided to go with a more suitable name.......The Natural State. People tend to be shocked when I tell them that I am from Arkansas......yes people articulate, witty, cool Arkansans do exist. I feel that it is my duty to tell you great people about my state.
Founded: June 15, 1836
Capitol: Little Rock
Area codes: 479, 501, 870 (chea!)
Population: 2.7 million
Largest cities: Little Rock, Fayetteville (WPS), Jonesboro, Pine Bluff, Hot Springs
Motto: Regnat populus translated The People Rule
Counties: 75
State bird: Mockingbird
State flower: Apple blossom
Notable residents: Former President Bill Clinton, Sam Walton, Maya Angelou, the Right Reverend Al Green, Ne-Yo, and I cannot forget the incomparable Conway Twitty
Now, what I listed above are a few facts about Arkansas. Allow me to dispel some rumors and myths about my state and its natives:
Myth #1 - We don't have indoor plumbing. I'm sure that somewhere in the backwoods of the Ozark mountains, there is some family still using an outhouse. However, 99.9% of our residents do not have to leave the house to take a piss. Thats not to say you won't find someone taking a piss down on Dickson St on the Hill.
Myth #2 - The KKK has a stronghold on the state. Arkansas is chocked full of racists. My hometown is one of the most segregated places on Earth. Even with all that said, I have never seen a cross burning in my life. Actually I prefer the racists in Arkansas, they are blatant, loud, and powerless. I could care less about being called a "coon" by some trailer park living unemployed douchebag. I do care about the banker in the Armani suit who won't approve my mortgage application.
Myth #3 - Arkansas is behind on the times fashion wise. I'll be the first to admit I still know some folks who rock jheri curls.......faithfully. I'm not saying Arkansas is on Milan's level but there are some very stylish people in the Natty state. Sorry to report that we are not wearing Cross Colours and Exhaust jeans in 2009. I was rocking my Timbs right along with Nas and had my goggles cocked to the side just like the M-E-T-H-O-D Man.
Myth #4 - Arkansans are toothless hillbillies who participate in incestous relationships. First of all I want to say that incest is sick no matter where it takes place. I've seen a lot of gold teeth in Arkansas but not a lot of toothless people. I've never eaten roadkill or had a goat sleep in my house........thanks Beverly Hillsbillies.
In short, I know that a blog can't change your mind if you're hellbent on thinking certain people are a certain way. If I had a dollar for everytime someone told me "you don't act/talk like you're from Arkansas", I'd be a rich woman. If you're out today and you see a car with Arkansas plates on it.......honk and give that person the thumbs up. LOL okay that was too much........just go to Wal-mart and buy something.........some Tyson chicken perhaps? Peace.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Just Call Me Solo Dolo
Alone........lonely.......do you know the difference? Do you believe there is a difference? Do you care there is a difference? Most people think that if you're alone then by default you have to be lonely. And conversely, if you're lonely then quite naturally you're alone.
I'm the youngest of my siblings. My oldest sister is 8 years older than me. And the closest sibling in age would be my bro who is a good 3 years older than I am. I don't see any real reason for a 14 year old to want to play with a 6 year old on a consistent basis. Basically from the jump, I have been alone. Just me, myself, and I. I had friends growing up but when the lights went down....just me.
My parents never really said anything about my social ineptitude. Now that I think about it, there wasn't a reason to do so. I wasn't out doing drugs or worse.....making bad grades, so they were cool with it. Part of me wishes they had encouraged me to do something......anything. Not sure what they could have done.
As I got older, I realized that I was different than my peers. While they wanted to hang out and talk foolishness, I'd rather sit in the back finish my work and then cool out. Get an invite to a party....I'd just play the wall or find a nice corner to chill and observe. I've always liked observing people. I can tell the cornball of a function within 5 minutes of having my first glass of water. He/she is usually the person who comes up to me with "why aren't you saying anything" or whispering to the guests "she looks bored/upset/pathetic/whatever". The question I usually want to ask is "what do you want me to say?" The more I let you talk, the more I can see how full of it you are.
I've always kept my circle very small. I don't have many friends and I'm quite cool with that. I like solitude. I'm a bit eccentric, but that has nothing to do with me being comfortable with being alone. I can count the number of times I've been bored. I don't get bored because I'm okay being alone with me. I'm pretty awesome, engaging, witty, and smart. Why would I be bored with that? Silence doesn't make me uncomfortable. I think one of the greatest milestones of any relationship is the ability to each other's silence.
Being solo dolo has made romantic relationships kinda hard for me. "Why are you so quiet" "what are you thinking" "you have to be up to something" are things I've heard so many times with women. I've had women I care about but being so used to being alone made having someone around a lot feel kinda smothering. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy their company just felt like the walls were closing in. It was nothing for me to go days without talking to a chick. I can see now how that would make it look like I was up to no good. I can honestly say that I have come a long way from that kind of thinking. Found out that I can be quiet and let a nice chick rest against me.
Even though I've enjoyed being solo dolo, I'm slowly trying to come out of my shell. I'll go to a store or something and actually make small talk. Or instead of turning down invites to go to bigger gatherings, I'll lace up the loafers and go. It's a painstaking process but I know that if I want to be a balanced person I have to stick with it.
I'm the youngest of my siblings. My oldest sister is 8 years older than me. And the closest sibling in age would be my bro who is a good 3 years older than I am. I don't see any real reason for a 14 year old to want to play with a 6 year old on a consistent basis. Basically from the jump, I have been alone. Just me, myself, and I. I had friends growing up but when the lights went down....just me.
My parents never really said anything about my social ineptitude. Now that I think about it, there wasn't a reason to do so. I wasn't out doing drugs or worse.....making bad grades, so they were cool with it. Part of me wishes they had encouraged me to do something......anything. Not sure what they could have done.
As I got older, I realized that I was different than my peers. While they wanted to hang out and talk foolishness, I'd rather sit in the back finish my work and then cool out. Get an invite to a party....I'd just play the wall or find a nice corner to chill and observe. I've always liked observing people. I can tell the cornball of a function within 5 minutes of having my first glass of water. He/she is usually the person who comes up to me with "why aren't you saying anything" or whispering to the guests "she looks bored/upset/pathetic/whatever". The question I usually want to ask is "what do you want me to say?" The more I let you talk, the more I can see how full of it you are.
I've always kept my circle very small. I don't have many friends and I'm quite cool with that. I like solitude. I'm a bit eccentric, but that has nothing to do with me being comfortable with being alone. I can count the number of times I've been bored. I don't get bored because I'm okay being alone with me. I'm pretty awesome, engaging, witty, and smart. Why would I be bored with that? Silence doesn't make me uncomfortable. I think one of the greatest milestones of any relationship is the ability to each other's silence.
Being solo dolo has made romantic relationships kinda hard for me. "Why are you so quiet" "what are you thinking" "you have to be up to something" are things I've heard so many times with women. I've had women I care about but being so used to being alone made having someone around a lot feel kinda smothering. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy their company just felt like the walls were closing in. It was nothing for me to go days without talking to a chick. I can see now how that would make it look like I was up to no good. I can honestly say that I have come a long way from that kind of thinking. Found out that I can be quiet and let a nice chick rest against me.
Even though I've enjoyed being solo dolo, I'm slowly trying to come out of my shell. I'll go to a store or something and actually make small talk. Or instead of turning down invites to go to bigger gatherings, I'll lace up the loafers and go. It's a painstaking process but I know that if I want to be a balanced person I have to stick with it.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Video Killed the Radio Star
Go back in time with me for a second. The time: 1998..........the place: your bedroom. The phone rings and a nervous voice stumbles out "umm hello can I speak to ____". On the other end a heart starts to race and begins to feel those little butterflies. An equally nervous voice replies "y-y-yeah, speaking". As time passes by on this conversation remains quixotic and gets a little smoother. It eventually ends in "no you hang up" or "we'll hang up on 3".
That was before text messaging stormed onto the scene and leaving a path of unromantic debris in it's wake. Do I have anything against text messasging? No. When used properly, it's a great way to get a quick message across. "Ate all your Apple Jacks. Buy more". "I'm choking....help". Yanno something along those lines.
As scary and awkward as first conversations are, I still want them to be a conversation. If I can type out 100 characters, I surely can hit one little green SEND key. If I want you and want to pursue you........I'm gonna show you. Some LOLs and smiley faces cannot replace hearing a voice. Hearing the tone of the voice. Hearing real laughter. No character can serve as an alternative.
My top 3 reasons for not starting a textual relationship:
1. It's impersonal. With a couple clicks I can send the same "hey what are you doing tonite" to 10 different women.
2. Sarcasm doesn't go over well via text. Something that I may have meant as a joke can turn into WWIII.
3. You don't know the cut off point. With a phone conversation it ends with "goodbye", "peace", "later". When that is said, click and that's it. With texting you don't know, you may still be texting the person and they've ended the "conversation" hours ago.
Don't get me wrong, technology has changed some of the game for the better. You can google the person you're going out on a date with. You can stalk..umm I mean excessive care from a moderate distance someone you want to go on a date with via Facebook. All these things are wonderful in their own right. But if you're trying to land a mate.....pick up the Ma Bell and get to getting. Save those text messages for Texts from Last Night. Peace.
That was before text messaging stormed onto the scene and leaving a path of unromantic debris in it's wake. Do I have anything against text messasging? No. When used properly, it's a great way to get a quick message across. "Ate all your Apple Jacks. Buy more". "I'm choking....help". Yanno something along those lines.
As scary and awkward as first conversations are, I still want them to be a conversation. If I can type out 100 characters, I surely can hit one little green SEND key. If I want you and want to pursue you........I'm gonna show you. Some LOLs and smiley faces cannot replace hearing a voice. Hearing the tone of the voice. Hearing real laughter. No character can serve as an alternative.
My top 3 reasons for not starting a textual relationship:
1. It's impersonal. With a couple clicks I can send the same "hey what are you doing tonite" to 10 different women.
2. Sarcasm doesn't go over well via text. Something that I may have meant as a joke can turn into WWIII.
3. You don't know the cut off point. With a phone conversation it ends with "goodbye", "peace", "later". When that is said, click and that's it. With texting you don't know, you may still be texting the person and they've ended the "conversation" hours ago.
Don't get me wrong, technology has changed some of the game for the better. You can google the person you're going out on a date with. You can stalk..umm I mean excessive care from a moderate distance someone you want to go on a date with via Facebook. All these things are wonderful in their own right. But if you're trying to land a mate.....pick up the Ma Bell and get to getting. Save those text messages for Texts from Last Night. Peace.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I Dig Chicks.........Now What?!
Picking up where I left off in a previous blog when I realized I was indeed a lesbian. I knew that coming out was definitely NOT an option. Being gay was obviously the worst thing I could be right? Never mind the fact that I had been on the Principal's honor roll since kindergarten. Never mind the fact that I wasn't knocked up or strung out on drugs. Never mind the fact that I came home on time and treated everyone with the utmost respect. I figured my mother (my pops was always laid back so I couldn't call which way he would go) would rather have an ax murderer for a daughter than me. She would be so disappointed if I came home and said "mama, I'm gay". Forget all the accolades and accomplishments. I would then be one of those horrible, nasty people that are damned to hell. I would be an enemy and no longer an ally. Shoot, not on my watch. Dig a hole and bury that bone.
My senior year of high school I spent repressing, suppressing, oppressing, compressing, any kind of press. That gay thing was out of sight out of mind. I figured I dreamed the whole thing. Whew! That was a close call. I managed to keep my friends at bay by telling them that I had a crush on this guy who had a girlfriend. I played up the moral angle and pretended to pine away for homeboy. He was cute but his girlfriend was even cuter.
Finally graduated high school and was ready for university. The summer before university I was invited to attend this week long camp for minority business majors. I arrived at the dorm and was greeted by this handsome, kinda chubby, guy. To protect the innocent, I'll call him E. It seemed like E and I hit it off instantly. He was cool and had a great taste in music. We hung out almost every day at camp. I thought he was awesome. I was very sad when the camp ended because I knew some folks wouldn't be attending school there.........figured E would be one of them.
First day of college 2000: I walked into my Freshman Business Orientation class. I was stoked that E decided to come to university and he was gonna be in some of my classes. As I looked around for him, I saw this chick sitting by herself. She wasn't breathtaking but there was something about her. I decided to walk over to her and make nice. I extended my hand and introduced myself she says my name is W (name withheld to protect identities). We chit chat for a minute until E finally shows up. With it being the first day of class, the professor let us out early. W walks off while I stand around and talk with E. He walks me to the bus stop and who do I see waiting for the same bus? Turns out we live in the same dorm.
W and I start kicking it like ninjas off the top. It was like I had known her all my life. We would stay up late in her room (she had a roommate) and talk and laugh and just have a good time. W was the first non family member chick I had hugged. She would always hug me before I left. Her embrace felt so warm and she always smelled so good.
One night, we had stayed up late watching movies. It was like 3 am, so I tell her I'm gonna call it a night and I'll see her later on that day. "You can stay the night here". Like I said, we lived in the same dorm, she stayed on the 8th floor and I stayed on the second. The building had two elevators, so there really wasn't any reason for her telling me I could stay. "B-b-b-but where will I sleep" I managed to stutter out. "You can sleep in the bed with me". Pause. Now I know how little a twin size bed is. I know how big I am. W wasn't fat or anything, but she was thick (in a good way). I wasn't a physics major but I knew we would be very close in that small bed. "Umm okay, scoot over". I get in the bed with her and she turns off the tv. I tried to get as far on the edge to give her room but she kept getting closer. I wanted to nudge her back over but it felt so good having her next to me. Finally, I got comfortable and let her lay on me. Two girls sleeping in a bed together.......there's nothing gay about that.......is it?
My senior year of high school I spent repressing, suppressing, oppressing, compressing, any kind of press. That gay thing was out of sight out of mind. I figured I dreamed the whole thing. Whew! That was a close call. I managed to keep my friends at bay by telling them that I had a crush on this guy who had a girlfriend. I played up the moral angle and pretended to pine away for homeboy. He was cute but his girlfriend was even cuter.
Finally graduated high school and was ready for university. The summer before university I was invited to attend this week long camp for minority business majors. I arrived at the dorm and was greeted by this handsome, kinda chubby, guy. To protect the innocent, I'll call him E. It seemed like E and I hit it off instantly. He was cool and had a great taste in music. We hung out almost every day at camp. I thought he was awesome. I was very sad when the camp ended because I knew some folks wouldn't be attending school there.........figured E would be one of them.
First day of college 2000: I walked into my Freshman Business Orientation class. I was stoked that E decided to come to university and he was gonna be in some of my classes. As I looked around for him, I saw this chick sitting by herself. She wasn't breathtaking but there was something about her. I decided to walk over to her and make nice. I extended my hand and introduced myself she says my name is W (name withheld to protect identities). We chit chat for a minute until E finally shows up. With it being the first day of class, the professor let us out early. W walks off while I stand around and talk with E. He walks me to the bus stop and who do I see waiting for the same bus? Turns out we live in the same dorm.
W and I start kicking it like ninjas off the top. It was like I had known her all my life. We would stay up late in her room (she had a roommate) and talk and laugh and just have a good time. W was the first non family member chick I had hugged. She would always hug me before I left. Her embrace felt so warm and she always smelled so good.
One night, we had stayed up late watching movies. It was like 3 am, so I tell her I'm gonna call it a night and I'll see her later on that day. "You can stay the night here". Like I said, we lived in the same dorm, she stayed on the 8th floor and I stayed on the second. The building had two elevators, so there really wasn't any reason for her telling me I could stay. "B-b-b-but where will I sleep" I managed to stutter out. "You can sleep in the bed with me". Pause. Now I know how little a twin size bed is. I know how big I am. W wasn't fat or anything, but she was thick (in a good way). I wasn't a physics major but I knew we would be very close in that small bed. "Umm okay, scoot over". I get in the bed with her and she turns off the tv. I tried to get as far on the edge to give her room but she kept getting closer. I wanted to nudge her back over but it felt so good having her next to me. Finally, I got comfortable and let her lay on me. Two girls sleeping in a bed together.......there's nothing gay about that.......is it?
Monday, September 14, 2009
Finding Okay
Over the last few days, I have been feeling a bit emo. Kind of in a funk kinda not in a funk. Not really down but far from up. I think about the many things that swirl around in my head. Most days I can flow with all it.......some days not so much. I'm sure that sounded crazy as all get out but I'm being honest.
This morning, I was missing my mommy so much. I think about how much I need her and her comforting words. I recall back to my childhood. I don't ever remember being much of a sleeper, always restless. I'd toss and I'd turn. Lay there and sigh. This would have been cool if I wasn't sleeping in the bed with my parents. Not ashamed to admit, I slept in the bed with my parents until I was around 10. I digress. My parents, who worked hard, had no problems going to sleep. My pops would be over there knocked out, straight calling hogs. My mother would sense that I wasn't asleep. She would sit up and look at me. "Go to scheep". No she didn't have a speech impediment.......from what I was told thats how I used to pronounce sleep. Those 3 little words would put me right to bed.
Fast forward to my 20s.......work stinks.....friends acting up.......life just not going the way I wanted it. My mother would utter 4 words to me........"it will be okay". As simple as those words are and at times I hated how flippant I thought she was being, I did feel better afterwards. At 27, no matter how much I tell myself I will be okay it doesn't have the same effect.
I know that God has a set time for us to leave this Earth. I believe that He doesn't take people from us unless He and they know that we will be okay without them. Some days, it's a struggle to believe that. Today was one of those days.
This morning, I was missing my mommy so much. I think about how much I need her and her comforting words. I recall back to my childhood. I don't ever remember being much of a sleeper, always restless. I'd toss and I'd turn. Lay there and sigh. This would have been cool if I wasn't sleeping in the bed with my parents. Not ashamed to admit, I slept in the bed with my parents until I was around 10. I digress. My parents, who worked hard, had no problems going to sleep. My pops would be over there knocked out, straight calling hogs. My mother would sense that I wasn't asleep. She would sit up and look at me. "Go to scheep". No she didn't have a speech impediment.......from what I was told thats how I used to pronounce sleep. Those 3 little words would put me right to bed.
Fast forward to my 20s.......work stinks.....friends acting up.......life just not going the way I wanted it. My mother would utter 4 words to me........"it will be okay". As simple as those words are and at times I hated how flippant I thought she was being, I did feel better afterwards. At 27, no matter how much I tell myself I will be okay it doesn't have the same effect.
I know that God has a set time for us to leave this Earth. I believe that He doesn't take people from us unless He and they know that we will be okay without them. Some days, it's a struggle to believe that. Today was one of those days.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Music and Life
Music has come a long way since I was a teenager. I grew up on Nas, Outkast, Biggie, SWV, Jodeci, and the like. Song like Elevators (Me and You) or If I Ruled the World provided the soundtrack to my coming of age. I couldn't wait for Tuesdays to buy a new cassette or cd.
Nowadays, I can count the number of cds I buy on one hand. I'm not saying there's not good music out there but its few and far in between. Also, you have to include the fact that digital downloads (legally of course) cut even deeper into cd purchases. Music is no longer treated like a love but like a chick on the side. Use her up to get what you want and toss her to the wayside.
Before you get to testifying and putting money into my collection plate, this isn't what this blog is about. Yes I do yearn for the days of good music. However, I know those songs and albums have their place and time. I'm not 16 anymore so bumpin' Noreaga's N.O.R.E. in my Buick Park Ave is far behind me. Do I still listen to that cd? Of course. It doesn't have the same effect. I can never recreate that feeling I felt driving to school bumpin' Superthug. Nor do I want to. I want that music and those memories to stay in tact.
Time always marches on. We live in the chronos........the perpetual ticking of time. You can't stop time. You can't stop change. As much as we want Illmatic, Nas isn't a 20 year old anymore. Have to let the young gunners have a shot. A rapper that I have much respect for is Drake. He's the guy who is with Lil Wayne's Young Money. He was only known for playing Wheelchair Jimmy on the Canadian tv show Degrassi. Obviously rapping was his passion. From what I hear, he went from a blog rapper to having major labels have a bidding war over his services. His music blows but I respect his grind. He has been putting out mixtape after mixtape and making cameos. Working hard. Heck, he even ended up on Jay-Z's BP3. That's major.
My gripe with a lot of new school rappers is they aren't hungry. They make a cd with 3 club bangers, 8 fillers, and 2 WTHs. They try to make as many ringtones or punchlines as possible. They get comfortable and just start going through the motions. Same goes for doctors, lawyers, cashiers, bankers, etc. We get comfortable and we start going through the motions. We start taking plays off. No one goes full throttle anymore.
When I say full throttle, I don't mean bouncing off the walls. I mean giving it your all. Relationships, work, the gym, whatever. Never settling. Always evolving. Constantly wanting to improve self. In short, going hard or going home.
Nowadays, I can count the number of cds I buy on one hand. I'm not saying there's not good music out there but its few and far in between. Also, you have to include the fact that digital downloads (legally of course) cut even deeper into cd purchases. Music is no longer treated like a love but like a chick on the side. Use her up to get what you want and toss her to the wayside.
Before you get to testifying and putting money into my collection plate, this isn't what this blog is about. Yes I do yearn for the days of good music. However, I know those songs and albums have their place and time. I'm not 16 anymore so bumpin' Noreaga's N.O.R.E. in my Buick Park Ave is far behind me. Do I still listen to that cd? Of course. It doesn't have the same effect. I can never recreate that feeling I felt driving to school bumpin' Superthug. Nor do I want to. I want that music and those memories to stay in tact.
Time always marches on. We live in the chronos........the perpetual ticking of time. You can't stop time. You can't stop change. As much as we want Illmatic, Nas isn't a 20 year old anymore. Have to let the young gunners have a shot. A rapper that I have much respect for is Drake. He's the guy who is with Lil Wayne's Young Money. He was only known for playing Wheelchair Jimmy on the Canadian tv show Degrassi. Obviously rapping was his passion. From what I hear, he went from a blog rapper to having major labels have a bidding war over his services. His music blows but I respect his grind. He has been putting out mixtape after mixtape and making cameos. Working hard. Heck, he even ended up on Jay-Z's BP3. That's major.
My gripe with a lot of new school rappers is they aren't hungry. They make a cd with 3 club bangers, 8 fillers, and 2 WTHs. They try to make as many ringtones or punchlines as possible. They get comfortable and just start going through the motions. Same goes for doctors, lawyers, cashiers, bankers, etc. We get comfortable and we start going through the motions. We start taking plays off. No one goes full throttle anymore.
When I say full throttle, I don't mean bouncing off the walls. I mean giving it your all. Relationships, work, the gym, whatever. Never settling. Always evolving. Constantly wanting to improve self. In short, going hard or going home.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
It's Just a Fly Love Blog
I decided to post one of my more, for a lack of a better word, quixotic blogs. I wrote this for a woman who was very special to me. I had a mad wicked crush on her. I was floating on cloud nine with her back then. My pen couldn't be still. This piece is one of my favorites. Hope you enjoy.
I know you know how I feel about you. I know when you look me in the eye you can tell. Somedays I wonder how do I gather enough strength to make it through another day. Don't get it twisted, you're not perfect....but guess what? Neither am I. If I ever thought you felt nothing for me, I'd bury this bone and forget the spot. I don't want you just to show you off to the world. I don't need everyone giving me props. It's not a physical thing. I don't fancy you because you're 'cute' or 'sexy', not saying that you're not but that's not why my nose is open. I can think of ten things that you are before I even mention looks. I know why people say that ignorance is bliss. Had I never had my eyes and heart opened, I wouldn't be sitting here feeling like this. I don't want to be ignorant and I'm glad that I know what love feels like. You have a good idea of what I am, but lemme hip you to things I'm not.
I ain't a sweetalker, but if you sit close enough to me, I'll lull lukewarm lullabies in your left lobe until you rest your head on my shoulders. Then, I'll sing sweet sonnets that'll seep into your soul. But like I said, I ain't a sweetalker.
I ain't a gambler, but if your touch is the ante, I'll step to the craps table roll a few 7s and 11s. And just for good measure, I'll hit all 7s on the slot machine. Take a hit on 15 at the Blackjack table......no problem. But like I said, I ain't a gambler.
I ain't an artist, but if you're my muse, then I'll paint the the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in your bedroom. And if that's too complex for you, how about I draw a heart and put our initials in it using chalk on the sidewalk? But like I said, I ain't an artist.
I ain't a stuntwoman, but if I could star in your action-packed blockbuster, then I'd jackrabbit a 89 box Chevy and let it roll 15 times. Not into high impact crashes? That's cool. I could easily jump out that window as long as I fall into your safety net. But like I said, I ain't a stuntwoman.
I ain't an athlete, but if I could be on your team, then I'm sure that I'd score 6 touchdowns against Polk High. Is that not enough? How about I score 81 like Kobe or bend it like Beckham? I have no problem running the 100 meter dash if I know that you're there with the stopwatch. But like I said, I ain't an athlete.
I guess what I'm trying to say is there are a lot of things I'm not. However, there's one thing I definitely am...........crazy about you. You know who you are.
I know you know how I feel about you. I know when you look me in the eye you can tell. Somedays I wonder how do I gather enough strength to make it through another day. Don't get it twisted, you're not perfect....but guess what? Neither am I. If I ever thought you felt nothing for me, I'd bury this bone and forget the spot. I don't want you just to show you off to the world. I don't need everyone giving me props. It's not a physical thing. I don't fancy you because you're 'cute' or 'sexy', not saying that you're not but that's not why my nose is open. I can think of ten things that you are before I even mention looks. I know why people say that ignorance is bliss. Had I never had my eyes and heart opened, I wouldn't be sitting here feeling like this. I don't want to be ignorant and I'm glad that I know what love feels like. You have a good idea of what I am, but lemme hip you to things I'm not.
I ain't a sweetalker, but if you sit close enough to me, I'll lull lukewarm lullabies in your left lobe until you rest your head on my shoulders. Then, I'll sing sweet sonnets that'll seep into your soul. But like I said, I ain't a sweetalker.
I ain't a gambler, but if your touch is the ante, I'll step to the craps table roll a few 7s and 11s. And just for good measure, I'll hit all 7s on the slot machine. Take a hit on 15 at the Blackjack table......no problem. But like I said, I ain't a gambler.
I ain't an artist, but if you're my muse, then I'll paint the the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in your bedroom. And if that's too complex for you, how about I draw a heart and put our initials in it using chalk on the sidewalk? But like I said, I ain't an artist.
I ain't a stuntwoman, but if I could star in your action-packed blockbuster, then I'd jackrabbit a 89 box Chevy and let it roll 15 times. Not into high impact crashes? That's cool. I could easily jump out that window as long as I fall into your safety net. But like I said, I ain't a stuntwoman.
I ain't an athlete, but if I could be on your team, then I'm sure that I'd score 6 touchdowns against Polk High. Is that not enough? How about I score 81 like Kobe or bend it like Beckham? I have no problem running the 100 meter dash if I know that you're there with the stopwatch. But like I said, I ain't an athlete.
I guess what I'm trying to say is there are a lot of things I'm not. However, there's one thing I definitely am...........crazy about you. You know who you are.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
To Step To or Not To Step To......That Is the Question
Perhaps I am stuck in the past. When I dated dudes, I didn't have to approach them even though I didn't mind doing so. I always felt that if you are interested to let a person know. Squeaky wheel gets the grease. Now by approaching I don't mean running up to a dude and kickin' him some lines. I'm talking about letting it be known I was interested.
Nowadays, I'm on the other side of that card. I am expected to be the approacher. I don't like it one bit. Do I have a crippling fear of rejection? Nope. My fear of rejection is no higher than the "average" person. I have two reasons why I don't typically approach women.
1. I don't pick up on subtlety.........at ALL. If you're feelin' me, it would behoove you to come say hey or something. You don't have to mack me. You don't have to buy me a drink. If you give me a big enough clue that you want me to chat you up, I will. Your work is done.......I will take it from there. If you're sitting over there blinking your eyes and batting your eyelashes..........I'll assume that your contacts are dry and possibly point you to the nearest Walgreens.
2. If I am the aggressor in the beginning, it's setting a precendent that I may not or do not want to live up to. Am I saying I'm submissive and timid? No. Am I saying that I cannot take charge of a situation? No. Aggressive is one word you will probably never hear anyone use to describe me. I'm saying that for the most part I want to chill out in the cut. I will make decisions, kill that bug crawling on the wall, and protect her the best way I can (provided she's not out poppin' off at the mouth for no good reason). However, I want her to make decisions, kill that bug crawling on the floor, and protect me the best way she knows how.
Long story short, approaching should be a mutual thing. One person should put their ego aside and make interest known. The other person should put their reservations aside and build upon the shown interest. Back to reality..........that won't happen. Hey, just get it how you live. Peace.
Nowadays, I'm on the other side of that card. I am expected to be the approacher. I don't like it one bit. Do I have a crippling fear of rejection? Nope. My fear of rejection is no higher than the "average" person. I have two reasons why I don't typically approach women.
1. I don't pick up on subtlety.........at ALL. If you're feelin' me, it would behoove you to come say hey or something. You don't have to mack me. You don't have to buy me a drink. If you give me a big enough clue that you want me to chat you up, I will. Your work is done.......I will take it from there. If you're sitting over there blinking your eyes and batting your eyelashes..........I'll assume that your contacts are dry and possibly point you to the nearest Walgreens.
2. If I am the aggressor in the beginning, it's setting a precendent that I may not or do not want to live up to. Am I saying I'm submissive and timid? No. Am I saying that I cannot take charge of a situation? No. Aggressive is one word you will probably never hear anyone use to describe me. I'm saying that for the most part I want to chill out in the cut. I will make decisions, kill that bug crawling on the wall, and protect her the best way I can (provided she's not out poppin' off at the mouth for no good reason). However, I want her to make decisions, kill that bug crawling on the floor, and protect me the best way she knows how.
Long story short, approaching should be a mutual thing. One person should put their ego aside and make interest known. The other person should put their reservations aside and build upon the shown interest. Back to reality..........that won't happen. Hey, just get it how you live. Peace.
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