So I’m afraid of spiders. I don’t give a damn how small them sons of bitches are compared to me or how harmless you want to tell me they are; I don’t fucking like them. They ain’t shit. They mama’s ain’t shit. And if they ain’t killing all the fucktard mosquitoes that blemish my butter soft skin every summer, they ain’t never gona be shit. Their very essence makes my skin crawl. The way they move, be it fast or slow, makes me think they’re strategically trying to destroy me. Every spider knows I’m afraid of it and therefore is trying to end me before I end it. It’s like when you don’t like someone and you see them happy. “How dare that bitch know joy?” “That fuck boy had the gaul to go back for seconds?” There’s nothing good that can come from spiders.
I park my car under a tree. These natural terrorists position themselves to attack all the damn time but I’m one up on them hoes. I pay the fuck attention to what’s going on around the door because God forbid one get in the car. For all twelve years of my driving life one of my greatest fears has been seeing a spider in my car while driving. I know seeing a spider will move the spirit in me and I will lose my good sense. Sometimes for no damn reason I’ll randomly remind myself that if I ever WERE to see a spider in the car while driving that I am to remain calm so I don’t crash that bitch.Read More»
Today has been one hell of a day already.
Early this morning I awoke from one of the most frightening dreams ever. Not because it was a nightmare per se, but because I was afraid it may come true. I dreamt I lost one of the people I love most in this world. I dreamt I’d lost my brother.
In the dream, I was rehearsing with my mom for a show. I think it was a mix of the stage at LaGuadia community college and the one in the basement of St. Clement Pope church. Both stages I’ve been on dozens of times. I remember falling doing a move and getting back up to talk about it, and was noticing everyone sitting around the backstage area. I saw him, my brother, sitting quietly upstage left. He had on a fitted white tee, fitted blue jeans and a red fitted. I don’t know why I started talking to him, but then I realized I was the only person that could see him. That’s when it hit me that he had died.Read More»
I don’t think I mentioned it, but about a month ago my dog Binxi got hit by a car. She’s fine now, but that was one of the most stressful weekends of my life. I don’t have any kids, and it’s just me and my Binxers. When I don’t have anybody to sit and cry with I sit and cry with her. When I’m not yelling at her for being at a 15 when I need her at a smooth 4, I’m running around the table like a fool with her. She’s definitely my ace. So when I watched that car run her over, the world fucking stopped.Read More»
A few months back I was reading about the “fight” Teyana Taylor got into with the director of Gangs of Roses 2 on NecoleBitchie.com. Toward the end of the article, there was a statement made; “My uncles, brothers, cousins and them would have been up on that set the next day.” My daddy woulda been up there the same day, but that’s not the point I’m making. I was never bout that life. For the life of me, I never understood women who said they’d say something. I know the men in my life care about me very much, and would unleash the wrath of 1,000 scorned and lonely ghetto hoes on any man who ventured his life to disrespect me. It’s one thing, if the men in your family see you being disrespected and step in. It’s one thing if you’re in a volatile situation where you physically need the help of one of these men to help get you removed from said situation (as in an abusive relationship). But voluntarily telling someone who would go apeshit over someone disrespecting you, about a situation that doesn’t pose you any continued harm? Nah. I’m totally against it. Why would I put the men who care about me the most in a situation where I know they would without a question be at HIGH risk for incarceration??! I’ve been called all types of bitches and hoes by men on the street who’s advances I’ve declined. Thankfully, I’m still here to tell the stories.
There was this one really scary situation where I was in high school and things got really ugly. I was walking up the Coliseum block with my Ace (my bestie at the time) and this guy approached me. I was in a great mood so I smiled and gave him the time of day. I said thank you for the compliments but that I wasn’t interested because I had a boyfriend. Well this unloved as a child piece of person proceeded to follow me up the block and continue to make advances. When I didn’t stop to give him my number his advances turned into slander. All of a sudden I was an ugly bitch hoe. I was now half a block away, he’d finally stopped following me, but I could still clearly hear him cursing and shouting at me on this very public street. Just as I turned the corner I ran into my then boyfriend and a bunch of his friends. There were about 4 or 5 strapping able-bodied young men greeting me. I kept my trap shut. I knew damn well my ex would have destroyed that dude. There would have been mayhem. All because I wanted to cry about someone being rude to me? #Cmonson. He was wildly disrespectful but he didn’t hurt me. I’m absolutely sure wars have been started over something a woman told her man about another man’s advances. I wasn’t going to be that chick. I would be putting the man I loved in all types of danger. I don’t know if that fool was strapped. There could have been cops a block away. MY man could have been shot, arrested, stabbed or any other number of terrible outcomes I can imagine. Over what? Some other dudes hurt feelings?? Pass me two times. Ok so that was the first example.
I’m currently a weekend bartender. I love what I do. I don’t love all my customers. There’s one misogynist who comes up in there every weekend. And every weekend, as I would watch him fondle and approach any number of scantily clad women over the course of the night, I also had to sit through him telling me how gorgeous or beautiful I am, along with other choice comments. No sir, you’re not the first man who’s told me I’m beautiful. I have a daddy, and he’s awesome. He’s told me that my entire life. As cute as you may be, you’d smang anything with a B cup or better, and I’m not interested in your advances. If you’re not buying me a drink, tip and move along. Well, after this one night in particular, he got extra tired of my mouth. If you don’t already know, I spare my tongue only for the people whose feelings about me depend on my money. Other than that, I’ma tell you how I feel. Apparently he’s not used to females being uninterested and felt a way. He told me I was acting like a bitch. I explained to him that he’d just called me a bitch. He tried to refute my rebuttal by saying he’d just said I was acting like a bitch. I very eloquently told him that it’s the same shit. Ok, night ends, and I’m giving my cousin a ride home from the bar (he works there too). I tell this cousin everything, and of course in the flow of conversation I’d let the convo with this customer slip. I’d realized my flaw as soon as I heard the tone of his “what?” Shit. I’d broken one of my own rules. I of course tried to clean it up but that ain’t go over well at all. To this day I keep an extra eye on my cousin while this customer is at the bar.
In a nutshell, I value and love the people who love me. I would never want to be the reason any of them were ever in harm’s way. If something pisses you off, but doesn’t cause you a life of torment or pose any danger, what’s the point in risking the safety of someone you care about to defend you when it’s not necessary? I’d rather someone defend me when I can’t defend myself. I’m a nice person, but I know when and when not to concern myself with the feelings of others. The two instances above are prime examples of when NOT to be concerned. The men I care about, and who care about me enough to protect me, mean more to me than my pride. Not everything has to be a war. If a piece of person wants to talk smack about me or express their hurt feelings as slander to my gloriously angelic and righteous self, cool. I can handle that. We can argue that out or I can just be passively disrespectful and dismiss that ass. Many times the best come back is your refusal to come back. Sometimes it really is that simple.
How do you feel on the matter??? Any males have any input? Other females? Talk to me.
Man I love Twitter. There’s always some discussion or debate that gets me going and juiced up to write. Er’day, B. Er’day. So earlier this week, I was inspired by tweets from @NappyHeadedBros & @The1Qdub.
@NappyHeadedBros: @The1Qdub Women afraid of marriage are really afraid they wont make good wives. Some are afraid to change, and others are afraid they cant.
I read that and started to tweet my opinion on the matter. I quickly got tired of being restricted by the 140 character limit and alas, here I am.
1. I am terrified of marriage.
2. I want to be married.
3. I want to get it right the first and last time (read: I want to get married once and live happily ever after).
These are my simple truths. Let me explain. My parents are married. I am a product of having a mother and a father in the home. I like that. In my mind, my dad is unquestionably THE best dad, flaws and all. I want that for my children as well. I once heard from my aunt Tanya, “be careful who you reproduce with; children are forever” or some variation of that. That’s the God’s honest truth. I want my children to have an amazing father at home the same way I did. That ish right there is stressful as all hell. I don’t know how some people can be so lax with choosing reproductive partners. It’s forever. You only choose the father/mother of a child ONCE. Yeah, there’s the whole step parent thing, but that doesn’t change who the biological parents are. I happen to take that very seriously. I plan on having one man father all my children. There’s nothing wrong if you’re not about that life, but that’s you. I choose otherwise for myself. You like red, I like pink. I know I want my children to have a father whom they can depend on for something as simple as a “good morning, I love you” IN PERSON every morning, to something as complex as being a good role model in multiple aspects of life. And, I repeat, I want him to do all of this from the same house I live in with my children, not over the phone.
I wholeheartedly desire to be married once. I don’t ever want to have to go through a divorce. I want the man I choose to spend the rest of my life with and father my children to be the only man I’m with from the agreement to wed on out. I want to be that old couple, who 50 years later look alike, still hold hands, fuss over the dumbest things, and get excited when their grandchildren poop. But that whole idea is contingent on the belief that another fallible human being, who is of his God given freewill and natural design imperfect and prone to making mistakes and changing. There aren’t too many aspects about being human that are permanent. But marriage just so happens to be one of those constructs that is comprised of two imperfect and impermanent parts, that is indeed intended on being permanent. Stranger things have happened I guess. For me, banking on another person fifteen years and three kids later not waking up and wanting a new damn life is scary!! My husband is risking the same in marrying me. He would be trusting that in that same fifteen years and three kids later, I don’t wake up and decide it’s not what I wanted.
I’m a strong proponent of keeping your Zen in your place of residence. I’m stressed at work. I’m often upset while out and about. There is no way I can envision being unhappy in my own home. Part of my fear of marriage is being in an unhappy relationship. I don’t want to stay married to someone “for the kids” or because it’s “cheaper to keep her.” I want to be with someone because that’s where I want to be, because that person makes me happy and makes me feel safe. I’m totally aware that marriage isn’t all bubble gum and lollipops. Nothing worth it is ever easy. Hell writing this blog isn’t always easy; I don’t expect something like marriage to be. I know there will be arguments, hard times, even hard years. You’re supposed to weather the storm together. I believe that if I wait until I find the man who makes me believe that the days I want to remove his heart with my bare hands are worth the good times that we share together, marriage is a viable option. From personal experience, however, I know it’s easy to fall for someone and believe that you want to be with them forever, just to have that turn on its head. You couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t going to marry my ex and mother his children. In my mind, it was fact, and we were just enjoying being together before changing our lives and becoming parents. Enter currently single Ms.Vixin. That ex clearly didn’t work out. I know from experience that people change. Out of the blue their values seem to dissolve and your feelings no longer seem to matter. You being happy is no longer a priority to them. Working through the differences doesn’t seem an option until THEY are ready. Nah, B. I’m not bout that life. Been there, done that, hated it, don’t want to do it again. I know from firsthand experience that a man can totally be in love with you and swear to move the world ¼ inch every Thursday in your honor in March, and straight shit on you and your feelings come May. Bitter? Possibly. Wiser because of it? Definitely. I would be a fool if I didn’t learn from my experiences.
If that wasn’t enough of an example for you, here’s another one for you to blow your nose with. I had a boyfriend that I was with off and on from sixteen to about twenty-two or twenty-three. I’ve lost track at this point. Over that span of time, we planned on getting married and having kids…. Enter real life. That obviously didn’t happen. There was so much growth in each of us over those years. I’m sure you all know how far apart sixteen and eighteen are, let alone sixteen and twenty-two/ twenty-three. We became different people, as we should have. Maturity is supposed to come with age. As we got older, at times we grew closer together, but ultimately we grew apart. I still love him very much, and wish nothing but the best for him, but I’ll be damned if I’m ever with that man again lol. We can be friends (although a strained relationship because he pisses me off constantly) but not lovers. He just doesn’t do it for me anymore. I’m no longer attracted to him in that way. I find him attractive, but not romantically; make sense? Makes perfect sense to me, but I don’t expect y’all to understand my thought process all the time.
Essentially, what I’m trying to express to you guys is that nothing is guaranteed. I learned years ago, that love will not keep two people together. I happened to have been reminded of such since. It takes more than good intentions to make a relationship, let alone one as sacred as a marriage work. I’m just worried about falling and marrying someone who has good intentions, but isn’t willing to work at it. I’m scared that even I will have good intentions, but realize I’ve chosen the wrong person. I want to get married. Really, I do. But at this point it’s just scary as all hell. I guess it’s like a roller coaster — even though you’re scared, your ass gets on for the ride. You know you might DIE but you do it anyway. I guess the right man will make all of this seem less scary. Personally, I feel that if marriage doesn’t scare the living crap out of you, you’re probably leaving too much to chance.
What are your thoughts? Any newlyweds want to comment? I know there are a few of you out there….. Anyone engaged and want to share? Anyone with similar experiences want to back me up??