Little Annoyances

I’ve realized I may never date again. Sounds dramatic, I know, but it’s highly probable. That’s because there are more and more little pet peeves that get to me these days. Maybe it’s because I’m just jaded about the dating pool in this area. Maybe I’m just being overly picky so as to avoid getting close to anyone, thereby avoiding getting hurt. Who’s to say? Not you. Don’t judge me!

Sorry.

Anyway, in the year that I was single and the weeks that I’ve been single this go round I’ve noticed things that turn me completely off. Things that may or may not be a big deal to others—and weren’t a big deal to me at one time but now are deal breakers. Overboard? Perhaps. But these are the things that get a DNA (Do Not Answer) placed beside a guy’s name these days.

Indecisive Men (aka “Come Chill” Guys)
If I say “pick a place” or “let me know what you decide” or “what do you want to do?” the correct answer is not “whatever you want to do,” “I don’t care,” or “your choice.” My choice was to have YOU decide! Fellas, there is a difference between being considerate of a lady’s wishes and simply being unable and/or unwilling to make any kind of plans. And trust, “come to my place and chill” is not plans (unless we’re already dating and comfy like that). Where is the effort in that? All on me, that’s where. Because, if I were to oblige, I’d have to get up, get dressed, use my gas to come to your place and then… What? Watch a movie I coulda watched at home in my undies? Sit idly while you play games or talk to your boys? Refute your pathetic attempts at getting some since you have some silly notion that chilling = smanging? Naw. Just… naw.

Starting with the Pet Names From Jump
If you just got my number/just got your FB friend request accepted, the first message I get from you should not have boo, baby, love, etc. in it. “Tori” works just fine until we’re cool like that. Sweetie is somewhat acceptable unless it’s overused. And I use Hun indiscriminately, but if I guy uses it I kinda give it the side-eye. The pet names show a level of comfort and commonality that I’m just not cool with from the gate. I need a minute to decide if I even like you before I respond to you calling me “boo.” It makes me feel icky.

Text Speak 24/7
How much time are you really saving by typing r instead of are? 2 instead of to/too? Why the heck are you, as a “grown man” writing mii for me? (Or is it my? I don’t even know!) Occasionally is fine, but if I have to pull out a cheat sheet to decode all of your texts, I’ll just stop trying.

Approaching Me Sexually
I think this is one of those older/wiser things. Shamefully, when I was younger, a crass remark would be met with laughter even if I wasn’t really feeling the guy. Can’t explain why; maybe it was some combo of taking the attention as “flattering” and a faltering self-esteem. Or it could’ve just been that I didn’t care that folks knew my sense of humor went all the way to xxx-rated. And yes, it still does, but approaching me like that now on a good day will get you ignored. On a bad day? Cussed clean out. (God ain’t through with me yet LOL) When the first thing a guy has to tell me about is his dick game, it lets me know that’s all you’ve got going for yourself—and it’s probably just delusions of grandeur. Further, I figure he’s probably still living in his mom’s house with no job, no car, and no aspirations save getting someone so dickmatized that she’ll put up with the BS. Again: Naw. Just… naw.

I think there are more. In fact I’m pretty sure of it. But since I don’t want to come off as too crazy picky (and because I’m supposed to be working) I’ll cut it off here. As you’ve gotten older, have you developed more pet peeves when it comes to dating?

Hard Lessons in Decision Making

There’s something really embarrassing about the whole moving into my own place adventure. I feel like I’d be remiss to not share what I’ve learned from it, but for it to make sense I have to delve into that unfortunateness. I’ve probably told worse on this blog, so this should be nothing in the grand scheme of things. Right now it kinda feels like a punch in the gut.

What pushed me to get my own place was the fact that I had an awesome boyfriend who I wanted to spend time with & wanted to spend time with me. A lot of time. Time that my folks were not comfortable with. Their constant questioning about where I was, who I was with and what I was doing frustrated me. Although I knew the bigger issue (their unwillingness to treat me like the old maid adult I am versus my inability to speak up for myself), it was wanting to be with him at whatever time of day or night I chose that drove me to my little one bedroom haven. I got a second job to make ends meet, went through the apartment search, and signed the paperwork.

And then we broke up.

So now I have an awesome apartment and no boyfriend. If it ain’t one thing it’s another, quite literally in this case. BUT I say all of that (with a grimace on my face and one finger hovering over the backspace button to act like this post never happened) to say that a couple of valuable lessons on decision making have come out of this. So here they are:

BE SELFISH
Yeah, other people’s happiness is great. But is it great for you when you focus so much on what others want that your own needs and wants go lacking? (If you don’t know the answer, it’s no.) I try to put other people first because I love seeing those I care about happy. But damn if this didn’t wake me up to the fact that putting myself on the backburner for other people’s pleasure doesn’t leave me with anything but resentment and questions of “what if I’d done what I wanted to do?”

HONESTLY EVALUATE YOUR MOTIVES
When you know why you do what you do—or are thinking of doing—it can put things into perspective for you. Knowing your motives opens your mind to questions like: Am I making the right choice? Is there a better way to go? Will this reason seem silly in a month or in a year? Am I acting rationally or emotionally?

THINK THROUGH EVERY SCENARIO YOU CAN IMAGINE
Fortunately for me I thought of a wide variety of possibilities (although honestly, the breakup and ensuing feelings of loneliness in a spot by myself was not one of them). But before and even after a decision is made, consider some alternate potential situations. You’ll never be fully prepared for everything, but you should have some backup plans. One or two things may catch you off guard, but being ill-prepared guarantees that something will.

MAKE IT WORK
So you made a decision and thought it would be total awesomesauce, but somehow it’s fallen short of your expectations. It’s okay, Hun! Breathe! (Actually I’m telling myself this, but you go ahead and breathe too.) It’s not the end of the world. You have to figure out how to make it work, at least until you’re able to do something better for yourself.  Tap into your own resilience, creativity and network of positive people to come up with whatever solution or plan you need to be satisfied in your present state.

DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE
Or thrice, or…. fource? Moral of the story, don’t repeat avoidable mistakes! Whatever lessons you’ve learned from past decisions—the good and not-so-good ones—should help you make better decisions. If not, you didn’t really learn anything boo! It’s like math: if you don’t grasp multiplication and division in elementary, how will you deal with calculus? Deal with what happens, file it in your mind, and retrieve it when necessary.

So that’s what I’ve learned from this little experience. I’m still thrilled that I made the decision I did. Every time I walk through the door, I stop and say “aaah, this is mine!” That in and of itself lets me know that this was a good choice, even if it wasn’t necessarily for the right reasons.

Tori D. and the Bachelorette Pad

clearly this ain't my place, but i like it

I told y'all I was gonna do it, and I did it. I finally got my own place! It's still disappointing that I didn't find a house that I wanted and could afford, but I'm definitely happy with my little spot. It feels like I'm on vacation or something. I have to keep reminding myself, "I don't have to go home; I am home!" It's only been a little over a week, so I don't have any wild shenanigans to report just yet. Give me some time. Maybe once my furniture finally gets here (tomorrow!) I'll have a huge party few people over. Haven't spotted any cuties, although the guy in the neighboring apartment complex that drives the yellow crotch rocket has potential. Haven't had time to do a whole lot yet, but I've learned a few things in my short time:

1. There is such a thing as too quiet
For the first three days I had no cable and the little wifi service I was using was garbage. Longest. Three. Days. Ever. I pulled out a little stereo that I haven't used since college just to have some noise. I love quiet solitude, but my goodness. That was unbearable! Yeah, being alone with your thoughts is necessary at times; and true, that time could have been (and sometimes was) used productively. But that little time cut off from civilization (lol) made me realize I need some kinda company. Which means I'll probably be getting a puppy soon, whenever I can figure out which one I want and if I can really afford it.

2. Small kitchens take some getting used to
My mom's kitchen has spoiled me! It's so spacious; there's plenty of storage and work space. Not so in my tiny little galley kitchen. Trying to clean up as I cook to make room is no fun. Plus I'm just not inspired. I need a kitchen that makes me want to cook! This one makes me want to order out. LOL I have a whole new respect for my mom, since she worked in a kitchen not much bigger than this one at the very first house I grew up in. God bless her!

3. I'm lazy
Okay, that's not really a new lesson. And it's not entirely true. Working two jobs leaves me exhausted. Even when I haven't worked that night I want to do nothing else but crawl into bed and pass out. You'd think that with my new found freedom I'd be out living it up! Not so. No one ever accused me of being too social, but I've barely even felt like getting online, much less going out. How am I so old when I'm only 27 25 3.0?

4. Moving is expensive, yo
Like, that's self-explanatory. This experience has me looking at my bank account reminiscing about the good old days.

Randomness for Your Thursday Afternoon

1.       I’ve decided that I want to wean myself off of the diabetes medication and kill the need to go to the doctor about it. Really this is more out of a financial need than health concern. My insurance has $1000 deductible. Take into account that I’m scheduled for around 3 appointments a year (just for the diabetes) at just under $200 a pop, plus whatever costly extra lab work that “has to be done” at my annual checkup, I come in just under that amount at the end of the year. Soooo basically my insurance pays nothing, save for the cost of the actual wellness checkup. I don’t have that kind of money to spend. Not to mention the money for the medication and testing supplies. (And why the heck would anyone need a prescription for testing strips and lancets? And why are they more expensive than the meds? Ugh!) So for the next few months I will be stretching my meds (I’ve been doing that anyway when broke) and paying more attention to diet and exercise. If others can control it without meds, I can too!

2.       The move is on! The date has been rescheduled three times, but I will finally be moving into my own place this Saturday. The only rooms that are pretty much taken care of are the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. I have absolutely nothing for the living room. And apparently my taste is expensive (who knew?) so everything I really like is more than I want to/can spend. Idk what’s gonna happen with that.

3.       I’m excited about the move, but it is not without worries. My biggest fear is the fact that I will have to fight the evil alien insects all by myself. The second biggest fear is that I won’t have enough money to make it work. Yeah I’ve worked the budget out from all angles, but shoot, I’m still scared! And yes, bugs trump bills for me. I can’t help it!

4.       I’m still wavering on what to do with the hair. I was supposed to be loc’d up by now! But I didn’t do it and now I’m missing my long silky tresses… and my short short curly tresses too.

5.       I can’t wait to find a better paying job or get a raise on my day job. I thought working two jobs wouldn’t be so bad. I was wrong. I’m always tired, kinda cranky (more so than usual), and barely have time to eat, much less have a social life. And I dread to think about Christmas season in that store—which, I recently learned, starts right before Halloween. Yeah, think about that.

6.       Am I a failure business-wise? These days, I sorta feel like it. I haven’t been promoting my jewelry or making anything new. Between not having much time and not having any money for the new equipment I need to create what I want, it just hasn’t been happening. I’m not sure what to do. This would be business number three that crashed and burned if I give up on it. Not really a stellar track record, huh? Even though I never intended for it to become a main source of income, I did want it to be successful. It feels like I keep investing all this time (well I did when I had time) and money into things that get me nowhere.

Wife Advice: Whose (If Any) Do You Take?

The other Sunday at church I heard a bit of “advice” that I can honestly say I’ve never heard before. While mentioning how Abraham sent his servant out to find a wife for Isaac and how Rebekah offered the servant and his camels water (Gen. 24 if you care to read it), the preacher said, “If you want to be a wife, you have to be a wife before you become one. The Bible says, ‘A man who finds a wife finds a good thing,’ not a man who finds a woman and makes her a wife.” There were plenty of amens and applause of agreement. I wasn’t sure about it.

This flies in the face of the “advice” that I’ve heard repeatedly over the last 27 years, telling me and other young ladies that we “shouldn’t be acting like a wife if you aren’t one.” After all, the logic of this guidance goes, if a man is getting the benefits of having a wife without actually saying “I do,” what’s his incentive to put a ring on it? So you act like a girlfriend until you become Mrs. So-and-So.

BUUUT… There is yet another bit of council out there that says “you don’t know what it is to be a wife until you become one.” So how do I even know if I am stepping out of the girlfriend lane and into the wife role? After all, I don’t know what is and isn’t “wife” duties. Except sex, of course. Which, according to what I heard a few Sundays ago, I should definitely be doing; I want to be a wife, after all. But, wait, wasn’t I supposed to be saving that for after marriage? (Whether I did or didn’t is neither here nor there!) So what/where is the line? And since everyone has different expectations of what a wife does/doesn’t do, whose standard do we apply?

This is one reason why I do not take most relationship advice seriously. Just because someone has an opinion on the best way to maintain a relationship doesn’t mean that I should apply it. Others may use it and it works perfectly for them, but since relationships are made of individuals and no two individuals are alike, it is more than fair to say that what works for some couples won’t necessarily work for others.

If I were to give relationship advice (laughable, I know!) it would be simply:

1.       Know who you are & be yourself. Don’t conform to someone else’s ideals

2.       Know (or at least have a good idea of) what you want & don’t expect someone else to change who they are to fit your ideals

And, by the way, that advice would be to everyone. Men and women. How dare these supposed “relationship experts”—most of whom are only experts in their own minds—hurl all this advice to women and say nothing to the males? As if women are the only ones in/trying to be in relationships! I’ve never heard anyone utter anything about how a man should act if he wants to be a husband.  But whoooooo that’s another topic for another day.

Do you listen to all the advice floating around concerning relationships? Are there certain people’s advice you follow wholeheartedly? Or are you kinda stubborn like me and determined to do it your way—screw-ups and all?

Convenient Distractions

Confession: I am easily distracted. Really this isn’t news to anyone who actually knows me or has been witness to the many lapses this blog (and my Tumblr… and Facebook pages :-/) has gone through. And although it’s really easy to blame it on Adult ADD (which I may or may not have, IDK) that’s only a ruse to avoid the real issue.

The truth is, it’s so much easier to lose myself in someone else than to figure out who I am and why I am this way. It’s easier to chase the next job or career idea or new “thing I’m into now” than to take the time to discover what I want. Why? Because focusing on myself is scary. I’ve had all these ideas about who I should be and where I should be and what I should be doing. To look at myself and realize that I’ve not only fulfilled that but that I’m waaay off base… That’s scary! True, it may be is necessary, but sometimes—most times, really—I don’t want to. Just being honest.

So instead I volunteer for stuff that I probably wouldn’t if I thought about it but do anyway since I need a time filler. I spend time with friends even when I don’t want to, but they’re there and I don’t want to be alone with my own thoughts. I focus on trying to become the ideal person that my SO wants (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) because the person I am (and am not) may not be good enough—for the SO or for me. I’ve insulated myself with convenient distractions. One day they’ll be gone and I’ll have to face the music. But for now I’d rather be preoccupied than deal with the elephant in the room.

Quote of the Day

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

- Anaïs Nin

This quote is where I am, right now. Nothing else needs to be said.

Things My Future Husband Should Know: I Should Be a Priority

Hopefully this letter reaches you before you actually become Mr. Tori D. (lol) because if this isn’t already present then there’s no way that would happen. So consider this a reminder.  

I know we have our own, individual lives. I love that! You do your thing, whether it be sports, tech stuff, video games, whatever; I do my thing—crafts, reading, traveling. We are able to maintain separate interests so that we don’t smother each other and it is beautiful. However (you knew that was coming, right?) I feel a way about being at the bottom of the totem pole.

What do I mean? In short, I mean that I should be a priority. I don’t expect to be priority #1 all the time. There’s (hopefully) your relationship with God, and if you already have kids I definitely expect you to put their needs ahead of mine (within reason. Does that sound bad? IDK). But I can’t be that wife that is just there to cook and clean for you. I don’t want you to be up under me 24/7, but I refuse to take the position of waiting after you’re done with 50-11 other random interests to see if you have any time or energy to pay me any attention. If you only want to talk to me when you’re bored with everything else, or when you have an issue and want to vent, or when you're stuck in the car and can't stand silence, then we’re nothing more than associates who happen to be roommates.

Simply put, I want to know that I’m as important to you as you are to me. That’s not a whole lot to ask for, in my humblest of opinions. Just like I will put forth every effort to show that you are appreciated and a big, beautiful part of my life, I hope expect you to do the same.

"911 Call to Myself"

The other night I wrote a poem for the first time in forever. Even though I was talking about one situation in particular when I wrote it, while typing it just now I realized that it applies to another area of my life as well. I guess it's now or never, huh?

In case of an emergency
Break glass.
Shatter the confines that keep you
Locked down,
Boxed in,
Stunted.
This is life or death!
Your next breath may not come
Unless you run!
Don’t be suffocated
By the soft, overpowering comfort of the known
Or the fear of the unknown.
Aren’t you grown?
Grow up!
It’s time to do the hard things,
To loosen the ties
And hopefully avoid cutting heart strings;
To stand on your own two feet
And eventually spread your own wings.
But you’ll never make it
Without taking that very first step.
Break the glass.
Break free.
This is an emergency.

Late Night Randomness

Sooo it's almost midnight on a Friday night, and here I am, "talking" to y'all. I'm still trying to wind down from 13 hours of work. Even though I'm exhausted, I'm wide awake! The inevitable crash is coming though, so imma make this quick.

I told y'all about the new job right? Not like I finally got my dream job or anything like that; it's just a little part time gig to supplement my salary so I can get an apartment. And that IS happening. This month. As in, if I'd had time to go get a money order for my deposit it would have been paid today. My anxiety level is absolutely through the roof. I know my folks will flip out when they find out I already got the place; I'm not sure if I can control my reaction.

That's the reason I've finally decided to get help. I've talked about feeling like I needed to talk to a therapist, but I hadn't. Mainly out of fear. But this whole ordeal with moving out and realizing just how stressed it had me (I've never had anxiety attacks before this, not to mention the headaches and insomnia) made me realize that something is really wrong. Thank God for the EAP (employee assistance program)! Not having to pay for therapy (if it doesn't have to be extensive) is one burden I don't have to worry about.

Will Smith will never not be fine. (Sorry, Independence Day is on.)

My hair needs some serious TLC. Sometimes I seriously consider going back to the perm. But now I feel I have to keep it natural for a few more years, just out of defiance.

Am I the only one who doesn't gibbadamb about the Olympics? It seems that way. I haven't kept up with any of the events, but I am  happy for Gabby Douglas. I love it when young black women do the darn thing!

Okay, sleep is descending on me, time to wrap this up. Next week, new posts.... I think.

An Indifferent God?

There’s never been a time in my life that I questioned the existence of God. Although as a child I was taught not to question anything I was told about God and the word, I find myself with more and more inquiries. I have, and still do, question the logic and truthfulness of some of the things in the Bible. And even though I practice Christianity I feel that all religions have their validity.

The latest in my list of religious rhetorical questions: what if God is just indifferent to our lives? Like the little day to day minutia of it all. The things we pray about but never seem to get anywhere with. What if it all is just a matter of luck? Or a matter of what you do to make things happen?

The thing that got me thinking about this today was reading about a young woman who started a cosmetic company that has been picked up by Macy’s. How did she get her startup money? She just happened to be in the audience the day Oprah gave everyone a brand new car. (Y’all remember: “You get a car! And you get a car! Everyone gets a new caaaarrrr!” *in my Oprah voice*) Since she had a car, she sold that one and had the money to pursue her dream.

Her story is absolute awesome sauce, the stuff that dreams are made of. But my question is why are some people recipients of such amazing fortune and others are left to scuffle to make ends meet? Why are some people blessed with great families and some with those plagued by abuse or addiction or poverty? Why do some folks have a string of bad luck and others seemingly are cruising down Easy Street?

I’ve heard preachers proselytizing that to be blessed you have to be living according to the Bible. Just yesterday the preacher mentioned how John said that he received everything he asked from God, and that if we aren’t receiving everything we ask then apparently something is wrong with us. But how does that explain the folks who are living good and never asked God for anything because they don’t even believe in Him? Or the millionaires and billionaires who attained their riches by cheating others? How does that explain folks who are living the best that they can and try to follow the scriptures but still struggle financially, physically, emotionally, etc. all throughout life? I can’t reconcile that idea of how good you are equates to how good you live when reality is showing me a completely different story.

So I’m thinking maybe God really just doesn’t care. Sure, He cares about the stuff like your soul, but whether or not you recover from that tumor that’s causing indescribably painful headaches or ever find someone who truly loves you or recover from a traumatic incident… Well, maybe that’s on his clutter list. I’m thinking He’s left it all up to us and fate to make something happened.

Make A Move

I’m finally doing it. I’m making steps toward moving out of my parents’ house. It’s not the ideal situation, honestly. The plan was to move once I found a house I wanted to buy and could do so without having to work multiple jobs. Alas, that is not the case. The second job has been found, the apartment shortlist is down to two and as soon as I get that chunk of change from the part time gig I’m saying adios to Casa del Whitley.

I have mixed feelings on the whole thing. The question of why I couldn’t have the type of parents who were happy to see their offspring grow and thrive and become their own person in their own place living their own life is always at the forefront of my mind. But the why doesn’t really matter now, does it? I would love to have the type of folks my friends have, who encourage and help them find a place without acting as if them leaving the nest is some sort of betrayal. But I don’t, and the decision to move instead is the result of an increasingly strained relationship with my parents and pressure (both internally and externally) to “grow up.” (I thought I was doing a fairly decent job on the “adult” thing: working, paying my own bills, no kids, no STDs… but anyway… I digress.)

The desire to escape for my own peace of mine is almost matched by the fear of not being able to handle it. What if I absolutely hate this part time job and end up quitting—or being fired? Yeah I’ll have enough to pay rent but what about eating? Gas to get to work? What happens then? Or what if something awful happens and I’m screwed because I don’t have any extra money to use as a cushion? I cannot—will not—go to my parents asking for help. In fact, I refuse to ask for help now. (After a bad incident with my father the summer after I graduated from college and was still looking for a job, I vowed to NEVER ask for anything from him and to reject whatever he offered. On GP I don’t ask momma for anything either, but I know if she offers something it’s because she truly wants to help, so I’m slightly more open to accepting.)

Whatever happens, the wheels are set in motion now. I hate the thought of giving up a (mostly) comfy life for one of (possible) struggle, but it’s so heavy on me that if I don’t make a move now I never will. Trying to make up for lost time, overcome stunted growth…

Meh, I’m getting slightly emotional (read: pissed) and my thoughts are starting to jumble so I might as well just end this here.

Morning Quickie: Certificate of Singleness

Last night, after being accused of being secretly married for the umpteenth time (don’t ask) I had a brilliant idea. Wouldn’t it be great if there was a certificate of singleness? It sounds silly, but think about it! What if you could avoid the drama of unknowingly being the other woman (or other man) simply by verifying a document? I mean, marriage is verifiable by the license (and yes, I am well aware that nobody actually carries their marriage license around; we’re talking hypotheticals here, people!). 

Picture it: after a little bit of flirty convo with the guy at the coffee shop/bar/bookstore/wherever, he decides to holla.

Him: So, can I call you sometime, maybe go out to dinner?
You: Yeah that would be nice…
Him: *grinning*
You: One thing though. I gotta see your certificate.
Him: *nervous laugh* Certificate? Girl I got a degree!
You: *dry laugh* You know the certificate I mean! Let me see your certificate of singleness.
Him: Aight. *pulls out certificate* There, see?
You: Dude, this expired two years ago. What’s up with that?
Him: Well, you know… I just haven’t gotten around to renewing it…
You: *pulls out phone to scan via app* Yeah…. It says this is null and void. Deuces!

Okay, I know there may be some kinks in my plan, but I still think it’s pretty freakin brilliant.

What Is Your Passion?

Is there just one? More than one? Do you have any?

*stream of consciousness here folks. sorry if i ramble*

While reading and researching for a class I thought I’d be teaching on Finding Your Purpose in Life & Work, I found a Venn diagram saying that purpose is a combination of your talents, values and passion. I could easily identify my talents and values. I’m a skilled writer, a pretty good public speaker (even though I hate it), I tend to look at situations & problems differently in order to come up with a creative solution. I value individuality & authenticity, self-development & improvement, knowledge, creativity, peace of mind.

But what am I passionate about?

Recently this question was posed to me and I didn’t have an answer. Sure, I've had things that I was passionate about at the moment, but that waned… so was it really passion or just a strong interest? I’ve been passionate about writing but I don’t know if I’d say I still am. I still love it and want to do it; I think the reality of how rarely writers “make it” have dampened it somewhat. And the jewelry-making… am I passionate about it? I enjoy it, definitely. I don’t look forward to the business side. I want to continue and possibly take it to the next level, but I’ll be okay if it remains a hobby that brings in a little money on the side. That’s why I don’t consider that a passion. I really, really, REALLY want to try coaching/consulting to help people be happier, more productive, and at peace. But will that be fleeting like everything else?

Maybe my passions simply evolve over time. Nothing says that passion has to last forever, right? After all, when I’m into something, I do have that “strong affection or enthusiasm” for it. But then it fades and I’m left to pursue something else.

Is it possible to live without any passion at all? Surely it is, but wow, that has to be a sad existence.

Morning Quickie: That Sinking Feeling

You know, the dread before the big blow. It’s coming, there’s no denying it. You try to hype yourself up, buttress yourself against the inevitable. Give yourself reasons why this is actually a good thing. Paint pretty scenarios in your mind about how things can be better once this storm passes over. And none of it is a lie. You know this too will pass and eventually you will be able to look back on it as a lesson learned. You will be able to see how things just aren’t right at the present time and you will be glad that a change came, whether it was voluntarily or not.

But along with that hope and optimism comes the sinking feeling. It may be a faint, underlying emotion. It may feel as if it is going to overtake you at any moment. There will probably be times when you’ll flip flop between the two. Maybe it’s there because you are afraid of losing your comfort zone. Maybe it’s because you feel like you’re giving up, even if you’ve done all you can do.

Maybe there’s no avoiding it. Doesn’t feel like there is. Don’t fight it, but don’t let it pull you under. In time you’ll know for sure that this is for the best.

Perhaps It's Not PMS, But YOU

In our society women are given a free range on emotion, with the exception being anger--that is the realm of the male. We somehow are supposed to swallow everything, be quiet and calm and accepting of whatever craziness is hurled at us. A lot of us (myself included) internalize this way of thinking & decide to "go along to get along" since it's easier. Why not just suppress the negative feelings and "deal with it" through shopping or cleaning or overeating or drinking!

 But this bites us in the ass. When we do get angry and decide that it's time to say something, or even simply passionately disagree about whatever the topic may be, most men and even some other women will categorize it in one of two ways. Either you're a bitch, cut and dry, or (the lesser of two evils) you're PMSing. Because anger is so unpleasant. And of course a lady strives to be pleasant at all times. After all, aren't women here to please everyone?

 No.

 Women have just as much right to express their frustrations as our male counterparts. So why do so many feel that frustration must be due to some hormonal imbalance as opposed to a legitimate gripe? It's nothing but a means for folks to pass the blame and not take responsibility when they've wronged or hurt a woman, intentionally or otherwise. Pride (another emotion that society lets men have but question in women) wont allow them to say "I'm sorry" so instead the woman has to be made to feel unstable, emotional, hormonal, crazy.

 And the most frustrating part? Once this accusation is made & you get pissed off at that, the retort is "see, I knew it." WTF kinda circular ass, Sarah Palin brand logic is that? 

 Heres a radical idea that you may or may not have thought of. Perhaps it isn't that the woman you're dealing with is some extreme bitch or going through some hellified pms. Maybe, just maybe, the issue is YOU. Maybe you are annoying or stupid or just downright mean and have actually earned the ire you're receiving. It's likely that you'll never admit it, probably haven't even considered the possibility. But it could still be true.

 I think I should become a sacrificial lamb of sorts and just express anger and frustration indiscriminately. Yes, it goes against my (usually) calm, peaceful nature. Yes I'll be seen as the stereotypical "angry black woman" that I can't stand. Yes, I'd be labelled a bitch by some. But hey, the way I see it, that's got to be better than being told what I think and feel are nothing more than a byproduct of a biological process.

No Shame

I feel like a hypocrite writing about No Shame (which is why this post is coming so late). After all, it is meant to shed light on the stigma surrounding mental health in the black community. It is meant to say "you don't have to be afraid or ashamed to get help if you need it, or even if you think you may need it."

But that's exactly what I am. Afraid and ashamed.

I am afraid of what people would say if they knew I had to go lie on someone's couch to figure out what was wrong with me. Afraid I'd be rejected if something is actually wrong with me. Ashamed of the weakness I feel. Shouldn't I be strong enough to handle everything I do? Shouldn't I just be happy that life isn't any worse than it is? After all, life now is a breeze compared to what my ancestors had to deal with, and they didn't have any shrinks. So what does it say about me that I think I need one?

But that's just the type of attitude that keeps us from living the full life we deserve. So many times we (I) try to apply logic to something that is illogical. I can't compare other folks' struggles to my own. All I can do is acknowledge that there is something that needs to be addressed. And I can't let ideas of "white folks' problems" and "black people don't..." stand in the way of that.

Morning Quickie: Locs

the BF was lusting after her hair... and honestly i was too!

The decision has finally been made, once and for all, to loc my hair. I know you’re all just as excited about it as me. Right?! So now it just comes down to finding a loctician who a) knows what they’re doing and can explain the ins & outs of locs to me, and b) doesn’t charge an arm and a leg. I’m thinking two strand twists are gonna be the way to go, considering the length of my hair. (Will another method work just as well? Tell me. Y’all know I don’t know!) There are several things that have me pretty excited about the decision:

1.       Not having to detangle (thank ya lawd)

2.       The end of unsightly knots

3.       Not as many day to day “what to do with my hair?” issues, which are happening more and more as my hair gets longer

4.       Reduced (or eliminated?) bad hair days

How gorgeous is this?!

5.       Being able to style my hair more easily

6.       Having my hair pulled without it being completely messed up (not that that’s an issue… yanno… ummm, just in case it ever… uhhh nevermind!)

7.       The prospect of just doing something different with my hair!

But there are some other things that I’m not so hype about, like

1.       Having to learn a whole new maintenance routine, since I know nothing of how to wash & condition locs

2.       The trial & error process of selecting the right products, because everything doesn’t work the same for everyone

3.       Spending money to get my hair retwisted. I know this only has to last until the hair actually locs and then I can do it on my own if I’m comfortable, but still… I’m kinda in the poor house right now!

4.       Having to wash my hair more often. I refuse to let sweat and product buildup have me walking around smelling crazy! And the fact that I live in Mississippi (apparently we’re right under the sun!) and sweat easily… ugh, I’ll be washing every other day!

5.       How long it could take my hair to loc. I’ve heard it can take up to two years! Y’all know I don’t have patience like that. Of course it depends on the type of hair, the starting method, maintenance, etc. Hopefully my hair ADD won’t kick in before it happens.

This is the thickness I want my locs. They're gorgeous!

Quote of the Day

“How often my fear and ambivalence are rooted in what somebody else may think. But I need not present my actions, my words, myself for somebody else's approval. And basing my decisions on somebody else's approval or making my own approval contingent on somebody else's only postpones what I really want.”

 Jan Denise

I’m guilty of this, sometimes. Like right now. I have a big decision I need to make, about getting my own place. There’s pressure on both sides, not to mention my overanalyzing everything that could possibly go wrong. But the question that I haven’t really asked myself is “What will truly make me happy? What am I comfortable with?”

Like I said in a previous post, my folks did a good job on raising a people-pleaser. I want everyone to be happy with me. But what happens when the people I care about most want drastically different things? And why should it even matter what everyone else wants when it comes to my life? It shouldn’t… But the reality is that is does for me. And I hate that sometimes. Things would be much easier if I could just say, “This is what it is; deal with it.” That ain’t in me, but if I ever want to truly be content, I guess I have to make my decisions and deal with whatever consequences that come.

On the Island

I’m in a very weird place these days. For most of my life I have been the one that folks come to when they need to vent or have to ask for help. And typically I do whatever I can for them (unless & until I feel like I’m being taken advantage of, but it rarely gets to that point). But I haven’t had the luxury of doing the same. When I’ve tried to reach out to others in my moments of despair, I got voicemails, unreturned texts, and promises of getting together to talk at a later date that never comes.

Pair that previous experience with my introverted personality and you get someone who isn’t terribly comfortable sharing personal thoughts and feelings. That’s been working just fine for me. Sure there are those days when I feel like I’m imploding, crumbling bit by bit. And while that may or may not be normal (I haven’t bothered to ask around) it hasn’t been detrimental to me yet, so cool. I don’t have to rely on anyone else to make me feel better or help me through my issues. I deal with my depression in silence and then move on.

But since I’ve been compelled to let some of my guard down and be more open, I have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it’s nice when someone is actually there for you, whether just to listen or to make things right for you. But it especially stings when you go against everything in you that says “hold it in!” but you try to share anyway and that old fear is realized because the ones you thought would be there for you, simply aren’t. Then what?

It’s possible that my own unwillingness to open up has caused the downfall of some of my relationships, romantic and otherwise. But when everything you’ve gone through tells you what to expect, why look for something different?

They say “no man is an island” but it certainly feels that way sometime. More often than not it is as if I’m on a steadily shrinking island, with waves of circumstances and emotions constantly encroaching on my peace of mind. What’s scarier: succumbing to the waves or desperately signaling for help with no reply?

Update on the State of KinxnQuirx

Sooooo yeah, the place has a completely new look and feel, huh?

I'm not happy about the changes.

As you may or may not know, my site was hacked. I tried to work with my hosting service, WordPress.org, and the service I bought the domain name from. No luck. I could not get that freakin black screen to go away. (Admittedly, I was offered assistance. I turned it down because I'm stubborn determined like that.) So my options were:

1. Let it just sit there while I tinkered with stuff in the background
2. Say forget it and just kill the blog completely
3. Move what I could and try to rebuild

Although option 2 was a little tempting, I decided to try to salvage my blog. But a number of things prompted me to not try to self-host my blog any longer. Mainly the facts that I didn’t have the proper protection against a malicious attack and I don’t write enough to justify spending more money for the necessary protection.

So here I am, back at Blogger. For now. Fortunately, a few months ago I imported most of my posts, and I’ve been able to add the handful of posts written since then. Unfortunately my drafts are gone. (Guess I shouldn’t have procrastinated so much about getting those done, huh?) And the pix for many posts are gone, so I’m manually adding them, post by post. Fun times!

Moral of the story: please bear with me while I try to get this thing going again. There will be some construction to the site, but hopefully it won’t take too long. Maybe this can be even better than before! A fresh start, of sorts.

Morning Quickie: I Define My Own Values

Yes, a change is definitely coming...

“Good girls don’t do that…”
“The Bible says…”
“Well we always…”
“You were taught…”

Lately I’ve been trying to take inventory of what matters to me, what I truly believe and value. It’s been a little surprising to realize that over the years–especially the last two or three–my personal values don’t totally line up with those I was raised with. Shocking, I’m sure (unless you’re someone who really knows me). No, I haven’t totally abandoned all of the ideals that my parents, teachers and pastor tried to instill in me. Nor do I think that they are necessarily bad or wrong. But somewhere along the way I grew up and realized that what was/seemed best for them may not be the same for me. After all, society is different from what it was when they were growing up. Plus (and this is the biggie), I’m an individual. My own person. A rational, thinking human being with the ability to decide what works and what doesn’t work for me.

It would be easy to mindlessly follow what I’ve been taught without question. After all, I could’ve avoided many of the unnecessary conflicts that have come up by just wordlessly agreeing with what was being spoon fed to me. But where is the authenticity in that? The self-discovery? The opportunity for growth? No, my differing opinions and beliefs may result in some not-so-smooth sailing, but coming into my own (as late as I may be) is well worth it.

My Almost Two-Year Length Check

Tomorrow marks two years since my buzzed big chop. So I figured why not go ahead and post my length check? I’ve done one before at the 6-month point. I also thought I did one at 1-year, but I can’t find it! Imma blame that on the move from Blogger to WordPress. (Yeah, that’s the ticket!)
Anyway, I did a quickie length check the other day that was not nearly as in-depth as the 6-mo. check. Here’s what my numbers are looking like:
Front: 11.5″
Crown: 11″
Back: 9″

my most recent blowout, before the bday celebration & a night on Bourbon St. got to it!

All of those lengths are stretched out; I have no idea how it measures with shrinkage. Actually I try not to think about that because it’s kinda sad… LOL

I’m impressed with the length of my crown! It was not looking too good there for a while, but Big Sexy pulled through. And lowkey, I’m a little disappointed with the back, but not really surprised considering how scissor-happy I’ve been lately. Now whenever I have a knot, it gets cut, no questions asked. That may or may not be a good thing. Not really sure that I care though. :-/

That lack of care is what has me trying to decide what’s next. Do I cut it like I’ve been considering? Do I go back to the perm? Something else all together? I’m considering putting an end to this phase as a loose haired natural and getting locs. Not really sure though. I need about three more people to say I’d look good with them LOL
So yeah, there it is! I’ve made it two years completely chemical free and nearly three years since the last touch up. Go me!

The Zombie Apocalypse & Who I Want On My Squad

Soooo just in case you haven’t read this gruesome story, here’s the long & short of it: A Miami man was shot and killed by police officers while attacking another man. And by “attacking,” I mean he was eating his face… literally, taking bites out of the man’s face…. while naked. Yeah, let that marinate. Somehow the victim survived (although according to reports he is virtually unrecognizable) and word is that the attacker was on some kinda super cocaine/LSD mix. While this only deepens my fear of drugs (because I just know I’d end up like the naked chomper, or on YouTube in the midst of a bad trip), it also poked at another fear that I dismissed as silly until now.
The zombie apocalypse.
Don’t laugh! I didn’t always think this was a possibility. Zombies were just found in campy horror movies, right? But between the CDC’s blog post on being prepared for a zombie apocalypse and History Channel’s “Zombies: A Living History”–both of which came out last year–the wheels got to turning. Sure the CDC said it’s preparedness post was really about any type of outbreak or epidemic, but I get the feeling that was the government’s way of telling us something without really telling us. (I may be a tiny bit of a conspiracy theorist; so what.) And then “Zombies” described how certain chemicals, which some countries/groups may already have ready to use in biological warfare, could cause “zombie-like” symptoms. That was enough for me to sit up and pay attention. Now with this story? It’s confirmed: I need to get my ZA squad together.

the crew from Zombieland

So who makes the cut and who is automatically disqualified? This may sound cold & calculating, but in a case like this, it’s survival of the fittest! So here goes:
1. The elderly, disabled, and small children can’t come with. I know, I know; I said it was cold! But truth is, they would be an added liability and the squad can’t afford that. Of course, the exceptions would be my momma and any kids I may have. Maybe just my favorite kid, I dunno… (jokes!)
2. I need 2-5 slower fatter people, depending on how long we expect this thing to last. Yes, it seems to go against logic, but I need to be assured that I can outrun somebody in the event that we have to retreat instead of fight.
3. Everyone on the squad has to be comfortable with weapons. I’m talking guns, knives, blunt force objects. If you’re too squeamish or just can’t handle the idea of knocking the undead’s head off, you can’t be a part of Team Tori.
4. Definitely need a person/people who are good with electronics and mechanics. Know how to hot wire a car? Good! Can you rig up radios, cell phones, etc? Awesome, you’re in. And even though I can’t really explain why I feel like this is important, I do. Plus it’s my squad, so…. yeah.
5.  The squad can always use someone who knows a thing or two about hunting & gathering. Considering the fact that we may have to abandon the cities and deal with a limited food supply, we need to know how to set traps for game and which plants are okay to eat. It would suck to avoid getting your face eaten only to die from not knowing that the flower you ingested was full of poison.
Forget it, I just need Katniss, Peeta & Gale on my squad.
So who am I missing? What kind of folks would you want on your team? And are you not at least a little freaked out?

Dating Games: Three Questions I Hate

That “getting to know you” stage with a new guy is always awkward for me. On one hand, it’s exciting because it’s so new and fresh. Who doesn’t love getting to know someone and discovering your commonalities, interests, and (hopefully) chemistry. But on the other hand, it can feel like an interrogation at times. That’s especially true at the very beginning, when y’all are still feeling each other out. And while I don’t mind answering most questions, these three common question are as irritating as nails on a chalkboard to me.

1. Why are you single?
Why is this said as if there must be some kind of defect that has kept other men at bay? For some reason, the fact that I just haven’t met anyone that held my interest doesn’t fly. And of course if I said something outlandish like “well after that last *&^%$# cheated on me I gave up, but I’m giving it another chance now!” I’d probably be looked at as a psycho. (That isn’t my reason, BTW.)
2. Are you a romantic person?I assume my answer is no, because I really don’t know what makes one romantic. That’s bad huh? But it’s the truth! Am I a romantic because I believe that there’s someone for everyone or because mushy stuff (sometimes) get to me? Or is it based on something that I do? I dunno, this question is just too vague for me. Makes my head hurt.
3. How many people have you been with?
It’s certainly important to have the sex talk, especially if it looks like that’s where things are headed. But the importance attached to the number of partners is misplaced, in my opinion. The number of partners doesn’t indicate whether a person is disease-free (you can be safe with 20 clean partners and you can catch hell from one ill-conceived romp with the wrong one). It doesn’t necessarily prove whether one is a prude or a freak. It definitely won’t let you know if that person has any skills in that department. Basically it’s used to determine if someone is a ho, which varies according to people’s standards and opinions. I’d much rather ask questions like “Do you practice safe sex and have you been tested? Are you currently (as in within the last month) involved with someone sexually? What do you like to do in the bedroom?” These tell me much more than some random number
that’s probably not accurate anyway
.
So those are the three questions that I can’t stand. What questions from a new/potential boo grinds your gears?

My Pre-Birthday Introspection

Y’all know the drill. (Or maybe you don’t? I don’t know how long you’ve been reading this blog.) My birthday is around the corner and I’ve gotten all introspective. I’m on my “What am I doing? Where is my life going? What does it all mean?” flow. Hours short of 27 *ahem* 25 and I still don’t have concrete answers.
Fortunately, I at least know what’s important to me. At the center of it all, I crave Balance and Peace of Mind. Yes, they are totally different, but in my mind they coexist. Peace of mind comes through being balanced, and balance is more easily achieved once you are at peace. So what aspects of my life need balance? All of them, honestly, but some more than others.
I want to find the balance between opening up to other people and not leaving myself totally vulnerable.
I want the balance of keeping my head on straight but taking leaps of faith.
I want to do something I love and something that’s profitable.
I want to be independent but be even closer to the people who love and support me.
Maybe the problem is that I want it all. But more than anything, I want peace. So I guess the mission for this year is to figure out how to get it, then go after it.

31 Day Reset: Do One Thing

As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I am once again doing Rosetta Thurman’s 31 Day Reset. The first time I got sidetracked and ended up so far behind that I said “forget this” and scrapped the whole thing. This time I’m doing a little better; I haven’t kept up with it daily like I’m supposed to, but I haven’t let it go either. That’s progress, right? Right.
So here is today’s challenge:

Today, you will do one thing to move yourself closer to your ideal life… Today’s exercise is not related to your everyday to-do list. You are being asked to complete one task that is personally significant to you and your ideal life… Your one thing should meet at least one of the following criteria:

• Something you’ve been procrastinating on for a long time
• Something that terrifies you
• Something that inspires you

The one thing I decided I will do today is get a firm understanding of where my new business is financially by getting my balance sheet in order. Right now I have all my receipts and records of sales, but they aren’t organized and recorded as they should be. This is something that I have procrastinated on because it scares me.

*cue the scary music* dun dun duuuuuuun

To think about how much money I’ve already invested in it is nerve-wracking because 1) I haven’t exactly hit that income point where I have money left over after paying bills and 2) knowing that I am operating in the red–and probably will be for at least the first year or two–is discouraging. But I know this is something that is absolutely mandatory if I am ever to have a successful business. Sure, once I get going and get some real income I can hire someone to take care of the accounting and bookkeeping. But for now it’s me, myself, and I (and my mom). So I need to be on top of all aspects of my business. Even the ones that I hate.

31 Day Reset: My Values

This is actually from day 4 (today is day but I still wanted to share them. The challenge was to list out what matters most to us. Then from that list, we were encouraged to pick out the top ten which would be our values. Then from that list, we looked at whether we were actually living our values (day 5) and created a personal mission statement (day 6). I won’t go into the long list of things that I wrote out, but I will share my ten values. They are, in no particular order:

1. Knowledge
2. Creativity/Innovation
3. Integrity
4. Respect
5. Passion
6. Social Responsibility
7. Balance/Peace of Mind
8. Spirituality
9. Love
10. Financial Stability

It took a while to whittle down to these ten, but I know that these are the most important things to me right now. Am I doing all I can to live these values? Honestly, no. But I am working on it, which is a step in the right direction.
Have you considered your personal goals? What are they?

Beauty Is In the Eye of the... Experts?

 

The standard of beauty, according to some scientists



Yesterday, over on OHN, I read a post about experts in Britain proclaiming that 18-year-old Florence Colgate might be the world’s most beautiful woman. The article (posted originally on Gawker) mostly states that this is because of the “scientific ideal” of distance from her ears to eyes and between her eyes and mouth. And I have read before about how scientists and psychologists coming up with some kind of way to determine what “ideal” beauty is based on how people react to pictures (but whose ideal, what pictures were shown & who they were shown to, IDK). Yet at the end of the article, it says “Florence has all the classic signs of beauty… She has large eyes, high cheekbones, full lips and a fair complexion.” No surprise that Ms. Colgate is young, blonde, blue-eyed, and thin. Yes, for many, she is the standard of beauty.

Today I read that People Magazine has named Beyoncé the world’s most beautiful woman. She has a beautiful smile, always looks flawless, and her figure is stunning–my words, not People‘s. Although the magazine’s title-holder changes from year to year and isn’t based on any particular science (that I’m aware of) it holds about as much weight as the opinion of the “experts.”

Bey, post-baby

No doubt, both of these women are attractive. But why do we feel compelled to hold up anyone as the “standard” or the “most” attractive? Why do we not actually believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Instead of celebrating everyone’s beauty, we select a few people and say “This is what beauty is. Oh, you don’t measure up? Too bad!” Of course it’s nothing new. But just because we’re used to it doesn’t make it a good thing. We as a society (and especially as women, seeing as how we are the ones constantly bombarded with the message that we aren’t enough as is) should learn to accept and embrace our differences and “imperfections.” No one will meet everyone’s standard of beauty, because we each have different ideals. But to someone, to many, you are beautiful inside and out. And you don’t need an expert to tell you that.

After the Fact

Once again I’m having a conversation with an old flame and it’s come back to the “you deserve…” “I wish I…” “I’m sorry I didn’t…” comments. I guess that hindsight really is 20/20.
The thing is, I’m tired of hearing that. What is supposed to be accomplished by this “confession”? Am I supposed to just be elated that someone finally gets it, even after they dogged me out? Is it supposed to validate me in some way (“hey, turns out you didn’t deserve to be treated like shit!”)? Is it supposed to be the key to open the door back into my good graces? Is there supposed to be some element of closure or resolution or some other emotional crap that I’m missing?
It’s amazing to me that this clarity doesn’t come about until after they’ve moved on to another relationship or even gotten married. I’ve asked what changed between then and now, because it ain’t me. (Actually, I kinda take that back. I have changed; I’m not nearly as sweet or open as I was in the past.) So far, no one has really given me an answer, just some old “seeing things clearer” BS.

i started to paste my pic over Tina's, but that would've taken effort... lol But the caption still stands!

Honestly, the first one or two times I got these remarks from old boos, I was smug. After all, they were seeing just how silly they were for letting me slip through their fingers. Ha ha! I slightly reveled in saying “well, you leaving me just made room for bigger and better, so it’s cool!” But after a while it became “here we go again” and I was wondering what I wasn’t doing right in the first place since obviously they couldn’t see what they had until it was too late. Of course I’m not so disillusioned as to think that I am the best thing to walk this earth, but still… I knew I was a good woman, so why didn’t they?
Now, I’m just… pizzled (that’s pissed and puzzled). Kinda confused because I really don’t know the point of telling me all this way after the fact; a little angry because I feel like it’s assumed that everything is all good after their “my bad.” I just… I don’t get it.
Ladies & gents, if you’ve ever given the “if I’d known then what I know now” speech to an ex, can you explain to me what you hoped to accomplish? Did it work?