Do I Want To Talk About

I suppose my hiatus is over. It’s hard to blog sometimes. Events happen quickly. And by time I think to write about it – I’m not feeling it anymore.

Do I want to talk about Floridian Cannibals? No thanks. Makes me lose my appetite.

Do I want to talk about the NBA playoffs? I only want the Miami Heat to lose. Otherwise, I’m not interested.

Do I want to talk about the President? I would, I could, but we’ll see after November 2012. I usually get asked by a relative, “Is he really such an idiot?” I’ve been reluctant to answer, but lately … I’m hard pressed, you know? If you are a fan of the President, don’t be offended. It’s just that if he was working at a private corporation, he’d have been fired by now. You try saying it’s the last guy / gal who held your title / position is the reason for your sub-par performance.

Yeah, that’ll work.

Do I want to talk about EU and the imploding Greek, Spanish, and Italian economies? Nope. Really don’t care. I suspect if the President was a Republican they could comfortably blame America for their wonderful mess, but they can’t say jack. I hope they aren’t hoping for any bailouts from the USA,  ’cause we’s broke, ya’ll.

Do I want to talk about our wonderful, thriving economy? Nope. ‘Cause the President says, “The private sector is doing fine.” Still smoking that stuff, sir? #doingfine #Choom

Do I want to talk about black men who are face chewing, stalking, cheating, murderous, promiscuous, insane, damaged beyond repair nutjobs? Not for a very very very long time. I think I’ve OD on the subject. What more is there to say? Stay the hell away from ’em. If you can, leave Blackistan. Nuff said.

Do I want to talk about travel? I’ve got Singapore on the brain. So far away. Lovely steady temperature. And expensive as all out. I’m due for a treat. Aiming for next year. If I go, it’ll be the first flight since the airports put in the Rape-I-Scanners. #fingerscrossed

Do I want to talk about dating and mating with non-black men? It’s academic, natural and simple. If you are a heterosexual woman, there are attractive men out there you can bond with regardless of hue. Wanting and needing is normal and acceptable: You want a man. You need a man. There’s no shame in that desire. Just relax. Go easy on yourself. And keep looking.

Do I want to talk about obesity? Naw, why should I? Aren’t fat black women helpless bullied victims?  It is obviously everybody’s fault some of them are such a hot mess. Shoot. Where I work there is this obese, short, extremely unattractive black woman – her stomach rests on the chair seat – she needs to lean back to stand – she cannot see her feet if she looked down – she waddles in a circle when she walks – she’s a malodorous cloud of sweat, stink perfume and sulfur – she’s always bringing in fattening foods to offer to others (and she’s always on a diet) – she offers advice no one wants to hear – she’s the office “Mammy”.

And I live rent free in her little head.

Guess whose BODY she studies? Guess whose HEALTH she wants to fret about? Guess whose CLOTHING she’s obsessed with? Guess whose phone calls she listens in on? Guess who she wont leave the goddamn hell alone – day in and day out? I don’t talk to this person. I don’t acknowledge her. I’ve never mentioned anything about her looks, but people like her – it has to be she’s been dropped on her shrunken head one time too many as a child. I also get my share of nasty lip curls and looks of hatred from two other obese black women at work, but hey, it must be because I’m the reason they cannot put their forks down. Must be my fault. What do I get from everybody else who’s short, tall, dark, light or small? Normalcy. We say, “Hello”, and keep it moving.

It’s not the first time I’ve encountered this kind of crazy from these poor, innocent, polite, delicate, sweet-natured big boned girls. I don’t usually mention it, because I often put it out of mind. And I’m not even close to slender, I consider myself medium-size. (I used to be heavier. I know what it’s like.)

But black women, some of you really, really need therapy. You require years of counseling. Do not be ashamed of seeking professional help with your issues.

‘Cause I’m gonna tell you right now, other black women – who are minding their own damn business, working to stay healthy, and living their life – aren’t in your way. And no amount of hectoring, harassing, bitching, critiquing or beseeching is gonna turn us into the office “Beulah” laboring beside you.

So, you go on ahead, continue to commit suicide by fork. ‘Cause you are on that plantation all by your lonesome.

Do I want to talk about Scandal? Really enjoyed the show. It’s meant to be funny, right? ‘Cause I couldn’t stop laughing. Best new comedy on TV.

Do I want to talk about the movies? Nope. Haven’t seen any of those “blockbusters”. Nothing interests me. Not even Prometheus. Only because anything to do with Alien(s) gives me nightmares. Yeah, I’m a big child.

Do I want to talk about anything else? Perhaps. We’ll see. I promise myself I’d blog more. We’ll see.

Hope everyone is doing fine and fulfilling their dreams. 🙂

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Relationship Barriers: Black Women, White Men and Other Non-Black Men

Note: Let me put my caveats up front. This post obviously does not apply to each and every black woman, since some of us are flexible, flirtatious, and at ease with white and other non-black men.

The Swirl Imperative: Becoming More Social

There is no shame in lacking a flirting game or being a bit socially inadequate in mixed company – at this juncture in your life. You know how it goes: sitting at a table with your girlfriends, like a hostage, segregated from everyone else, because they’re uncomfortable at that social event and by design do everything to keep you from getting your groove on.

I believe in the power of a couple of Cosmos and Fuzzy Navels! 😀

I’m always hopeful we’ll grow out of staying socially segregated, because when we integrate – that increases our interactions with white, Latino, Asian and other non-black men. The more men you meet, the more likely you are to meet Mr. Right for marriage, 2.5 kids and picket fences. And all that good stuff.

Relationship Barriers: The Strange Tensions

I appreciated the candor of this testimony. It reveals why some white men, and by extension other non-black men, are wary of approaching black women.

The following comments are by Carlos, which I edited to highlight some points:

  • I’m a white man in my late 30s… Well, not completely white, but basically white for other people’s perception. I love women, and I’m also a bit of a sex addict- always have been, since my teens. I love sex, and more than anything I love to give women pleasure.
  • That said, the intesity of the debate and people’s feelings around BW/WM relationships and sex have always been challenging for me. I am attracted to so many types of women, and appreciate so many different things, and black women are no exception.
  • But where I’m normally just lustful and girl-crazy, I am more cautious with black women. The controversy, history and frankly less clear flirtatious interest from black women definitely factor in and give me pause. And it’s not for lack of adoration for black women on my part, trust me.
  • But it feels more complicated, potentially, than with other women. Of course I’m generalizing, but I hope you get the idea. And really, I think that tension reflects race relations and race (mis) undertanding in general.
  • My first girlfriend and sex partner in high school was a black girl, and I have had two relationships with black women since- one lasting for 3 years monogamously and another a friendly casual sexual relationship with a neighbor that was off/on for five years.
  • I hope for more in the future.
  • On a cultural note, I think a lot of Generation X white guys like me who were raised in liberal post-hippie households, growing up and learning about sex involved a positive open attitude about sex that fostered a lot of emphasis on women’s pleasure and orgasm. I basically learned that that defined good sex. Works for me, and I think that might explain the scenario that white men are versatile, creative, long-lasting and giving lovers.

Thank you for your perspective, Carlos.

Yeah, I know he’s talking about SEX, SEX and more SEX, but he’s also admitting – as a regular guy – that he finds black women as attractive as other women. Far too often some of us like to hang our hats on men not finding us attractive, so that’s not the case here.

He’s interested, but he cannot tell if you are. He’s interested, but he hesitates, because of the historical racial and sexual “drama”.

So, I have a few questions for everyone:

  1. Do we stress the racial aspect in our interracial relationships too much?
  2. Are we working the topic of race to the point of fracture?
  3. Is our flirting ability impaired? Would it make a big difference getting it fixed?
  4. Are we the ones bringing racial tension(s) to our interactions with non-black men?
  5. Are we letting outside forces create this tension? You know, taking control of your love life where they have no business being involved.
  6. What would it take to alleviate those sexual and racial tensions? (Aside from great sex.) 😀

And everyone is free to add their own thoughts….

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To Pack It All Up and Move Away

I want to run away from this life.

Right now, more than ever, I’ve this intense urge to sell my crap; junk the stuff cluttering up my life.

Let go of my issues. Just leave.

My problem: I love my home.

It’s the first, and only one, I’ve bought. The neighborhood is s’okay; crime is nearly nonexistent. There’s a steep price to pay for living here: New Jersey is one, if not the most expensive state in the country. It also feels like the most depressing, isolating, and socially stagnant places in the world.

It’s weird how much I miss Brooklyn, when I could not wait to leave that place!

My current home is my comfort zone.

This is where I hide from everyone. I don’t believe I should need someplace that makes me reluctant to let go of. I don’t think it’s healthy. I should be able to adapt to any environment; enjoy myself. At some point, in the future, I know I will move.

My other issue: I wouldn’t know where to go.

I used to want to a second home in Florida. I used to want to work in Nevada. I used to want to return to England. I used to want to find a home in Canada. I used to want to relocate to Australia or New Zealand. I used to want to hang out in Spain. I used to want to chill down in the Bahamas, Barbados, Puerto Rico, or the U.S. Virgin Islands.

I have the “grass is greener” syndrome.

I take this feeling to mean that I need to take a trip. I read about people who backpack around the world. I feel no envy. I’d rather go somewhere, hang out for a couple of days and return to my home.

There are places I’d still like to visit: Australia, Italy, Germany, B.C. Vancouver, the Netherlands, maybe India or Japan. I need to make plans, or I’m going to go crazy.

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Peace: The Way Within and Without

I am someone more fond of hearing a joke as opposed to a serious news story of the day. I didn’t and don’t want to know who got shot, stabbed, and died tragically. I got rid of my television set, so I could get a good night’s sleep.

I enjoy my peace.

The news used to bother me so bad, that I found myself crying after some stories. Why inflict that upon myself, then get ready for bed? Was it any wonder I was having nightmares?

That was years ago
. Can’t rock my cradle now.

Ever worked with people who spent the day trying to work your last nerve? Based on the situation, I’d say: “I document everything I say. I document everything people say and do to me. That information is collected for a period of time, before I head off to HR.”

It is so effective, and the work gets done stress free.

Stress is a component of life, but how much is too much? Too much is that twitch in your left/right eye. Too much is that stabbing pain in your chest, gut, back and shoulders. Too much is that strain in your voice: have you been shouting lately? Is your hair coming out? Are you gaining weight? Are you losing weight?

Take a break
. Do it now. If you are being overwhelmed: ask for help. If that wont do it: take a sick day. If that wont do it: take a vacation. If that really wont do it: quit.

Taking a break doesn’t only pertain to work, this applies to everything dragging you down: toxic relationships, a bad habit you wont quit, refusing to make important decisions, etc.

When one is in search of peace, it never hurts to run away as fast and far as you can. It’s either fight or flight. If you can’t manage the fight now: Run! Come back later and fight those battles later, or not at all.

Seek peace: reward yourself.

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