Dilemnas

Jason to Me:

"How do I explain to my 60 something year old Trinidadian father that I can't do it tomorrow because I have plans with my girl and if I break them, I'm in the dog house?"

It wasn't just that she was being a good friend. She was, but it wasn't just that. It was that she was trying to assuage some of her guilt. She hoped the gods would see and hear her penance. That in this act of reaching out (while it was sincere) she could some how free her soul. Then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be kept awake at night hearing a heartbeat that years ago ceased to exist.

I grew up in out in eastern Long Island. Way east, near towns with names that are hard for you to pronounce. Names that once represented Native American tribes but are now markers of economic status. The distance in relationship to any given town tells the world what daddy does for a living. How well he's able to provide. Mommy stays home in most of these towns, it's just the way it goes.
As much as I never want to go back to live there. I miss what it has to offer. Falling asleep on summer nights with the windows open letting in the sound of crickets doing their thing. Catching fire-flies as a little girl and capturing them in clear glass jars, my own personal night light.
I love summer in the city but I yearn for summer in the suburbs. Walking bare foot in my yard, feeling the cool green grass beneath your toes and the taking in the scent of a freshly mowed lawn. I love that smell. Fresh cut grass is really the best smell. It reminds me of so many happy things.
The best is playing outside and smelling dinner as the scent of fried chicken cutlets with rice and vegetables comes through the kitchen window. Then mom would yell to us to come in and wash up for dinner once my dad returned from work. We always ate dinner as a family at the table together, mom, dad and the kids. I loved that. I want that for my future family. To much time is spent in front of computers and televisions. It's nice to come together and share and fight and be a family if only for 30 minutes a day.
I don't really see myself having a strictly suburban life. Suburbia is often devoid of diversity. I want my children to know how big the world truly is. It's hard to see that behind your chain link fence as you return from private school. I am also well aware that uptown, downtown and midtown have their own caste systems at work, as do all of the boroughs but, it's different. You can still visit a different caste and not feel shunned. It's more anonymous here, it's harder to judge a book by it's cover, old prejudices don't always fly.
I'm feeling nostalgic today I suppose. I want the best of both worlds and I don't think that it's too much to ask for either.

First comes love, then comes the house...

This weekend after a double shot of Hennessy and too much sun, he asked me to live with him. I stared back at his brown eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. I asked for clarification because, moving into his current apartment with him and moving into a separate neutral apartment with both of our names on the lease are two different things. He meant the former. I would be willing to put the later on the chopping block and come up with some type of pre-nuptial agreement in say the next 6-12 months. Hey, I'll be older and wiser by then right?-I'll be thirty.

All I know if that I can't live in HIS apartment with him. Maybe it's all in my mind but, it's not fair-it's not equal. Then again what is?

The only thing that we can both agree on is that we would both like to own the next place that we live. We don't want to give up our rent stablilized apartments and then sell our souls to pay someone else's mortage. If there is going to be any soul selling we want it to be deeded with our names.

So I guess in my case first comes love, then comes the house...who ever heard of such a thing?

I'm feeling like a failure these days. The more it's pointed out to me, the more I fight back. Who wants to hear those words? "Your this, your that". All my life I've had to hear the words. Try to live up to someone elses expections. I live a life of biting my words back. When I lash out it's because I'm tired of holdin it in. It's poisoning me. I'm tired of wearing your labels and opinions, it's tearing me down. Create a place for me in your world as I do for you in mine. I've never asked you to be anything other than you. I play devils advocate because I'm a born debater. It comes out without me even thinking first. If I'm asking you to change, I'll think first. Speak second. It's hard.
I know I'm not perfect but, I want to be. I want to cry when my failures make it from the inside to the outside. Don't find joy in breaking me down. I'm sorry that you're so unhappy that you need to make me feel sad. I'm sorry I'm so unhappy that I need to make you mad.
Lately all I can think about is all the things that I never had.

Don't want none of your time...

4 yr old niece: "Hello?"

Me: "Uh, Hi (laughing) Who IS this??"

4 yr old niece: "It's Hannnnnnaaah"

Me: "Oh hi Hannah, does Mommy know that your answering the phone?"

4 yr old niece: "Yes"

Me: (still laughing) "Oh, uhm okay, it's uhm Mar.., it's Auntie Ria is Noelle there? I want to wish her Happy Birthday"

4 yr old niece: "Okay"

4 yr old niece: (yelling) "Noelle, it's Auntie Ria she wants to talk to you"

6 yr old niece: "Why does she want to talk to me? Tell her I'm busy"

rambling

BECAUSE IT'S ON MY MIND

I sweat the small stuff. I wish I didn't but, I often do. I need to always have a plan, I need to be on time and I need the same from you. I don't do well with upsets to my calculated itinerary. Thousands of annoying, whinyquestions are asked and then you stop listening. The way one stops listening after a hearing a baby cry, okay maybe that's a bad example. I don't ignore crying children but, you must get where I'm going with this. We've all tuned out that annoying whatever (in your case, probably NOT the baby).
That is why it's so refreshing, okay refreshing is not the right word. Uhm, that is why it is why Jason is so complimentary to me. He NEVER sweats the small stuff, often times to my own chagrin. If I really take a moment and consider the bigger picture, it's all small stuff.

IN OTHER NEWS

I'll be away this weekend for a wedding reception (they got married last month in Cancun) in Buffalo, New York. I've been to Buffalo once in my life and I vowed to never return. Never say never is true. Tomorrow afternoon I head back for a weekend of celebration. I'm going to make the best of it.

Wednesday I leave for vacation (yes, again) to celebrate My Dear Friend Irene's triumphant entrance into her 30's. It is an all girls week that has been planned since, well...it's been planned since forever. My gift to her is a decent set of luggage. I believe that every woman should have a nice coordinated set of luggage. I mean travel must be done in STYLE dahling. She requested black, I wanted something a bit more bold but it's classic so I agreed. I finally found something stain and dust resistant which is a must because, classic isn't classic when it's dusty and dirty-it's just dusty and dirty and ANYONE can do that!

So we are headed to Mi-ami. It's an annual mecca for Irene and myself. This time we've got an entourage and good times are a guarantee. We've rented a condo with a pool and beachfront access. We're still trying to come up with a signature drink for the trip...something that we can look back on fondly when we return to our real lives.

Alberto has got us shaking in our stilettos a bit. We are all avid weather.com followers this week. I find solace in the fact that the weather forecast is just that, a forecast. They are winging it for the most part. I know this to be true because all day this week the forecast for Miami has been rain and everyday the forecast changes to partly cloudy. I pray this trend continues. Seriously, I pray about weather.

I am so glad that today is the end of the work week for me that, I could do a jig.

Over and out.

If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain

A picture is worth a thousand words, I will let them speak.

If you like pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain...

I fell in love...

Set up begins for the wedding.

The Groom.

The beautiful blushing bride.

I Do.

I Will.

Family Portrait

Billy

Billy was not conceived in love, passion yes, but not love. Billy was born into love though. He has the love of his young caribbean mother who passed on her almond eyes, fair skin and curly brown hair to her son. He is her joy, and has become her first love. This same young boy who was born the first nephew of his loving aunt. The very apple of her eye. She often daydreams of one day having a little boy as beautiful as he. His uncle is often removed from his life but in his way he shows his affection the way uncles often show love to nephews. They engage in occasional rough housing and chat about the latest video games.
He is the first grandchild to his maternal grandmother and her pride and joy. They enjoy a love affair only they two understand. They see one another with love colored glasses and neither can do any wrong.
Billy's life is filled with love and yet he still aches. He aches for the love of a father. His Mother aches to fill his void but in the end she is not a man. Even though she feels like she plays both cards and strives to be both mother and father if she looks in the mirror, she is only mother. Father is long gone.
This makes Billy cry.
In class Billy dreads discussions the lead to daddy talk. Father's Day is approaching and his teacher has reported that he appears depressed, melancholy as she describes it. Mother suffers quietly to hear these reports. She would like to bang down the door of the Father and show him Billy's pain. She doesn't understand how his heart could be so cold, how he could be so uncaring, unconcerned.
This makes Mother cry.
Mother tries to distract him from the absence with activity. He plays sports and excels, coach invites him to bring his father by to watch him play. He learns music and wishes his Father were in the audience at his recital. He makes friends and friends lead him back to daddy stories and the cycle continues.
This makes Mother wonder is she made the right "choice". She is ashamed to think it and puts it out of her head as quickly as it came. She knows the guilt would only be the same.

I:

I AM: A big sister, an aunt, a daughter. I am not a mother but I often mother.
I WANT: Happiness. The deepest, widest happiness not only for myself but for those I care about. I want to learn to be selfless and not care what other people think so much.
I WISH: I had followed my heart more on a few things.
I HATE: Beets and "labels".
I MISS: My mom.
I HEAR: the whirr of the computer.
I WONDER: What the future holds.
I REGRET: Having to make that decision.
I AM NOT: Weak. Kindness should not be mistaken for weakness.
I DANCE: In my apartment in my underwear. I'm to shy to really let go in public.
I SING: even though I can't carry a tune.
I CRY: easily.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: happy for you-I just say that I am.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: Jason calm enough for take off.
I WRITE: because I have too. I have to get the words out of my head.
I CONFUSE: easily. I'm a little slow sometimes.
I NEED: to volunteer. What sense is life if you can't improve apon the lives of others.
I SHOULD: really decide what my next life step is and then DO IT!
I START: vacation on June 21, 2006
I FINISH: what I start.

Dear Mr. President,

(Our president is an ass. I don't feel like I have to defend that statemtent either. If he can do asinine things without giving the American people an explanation well then, so can I. This weekend we celebrate Memorial Day and I salute and support the troops 100%. I'm a huge fan of PINK and I love her latest song Dear Mr. President-I wanted to share it with you.)

Dear Mr. President, come take a walk with me*Let's pretend, we're just two people and *You're not better than me*I'd like to aske you some questions, if we can speak honestly What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?* Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?*What do you feel when you look in the mirror?Are you proud?*Chorus:How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?*How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?*How do you walk with your head held high?*Can you even look me in the eye, and tell me why?*Dear Mr. President*Were you a lonely boy?*Are you a lonely boy?*How can you say, "no child is left behind"*We're not dumb and we're not blind*They're all sitting in your cells*While you pave the road to hell*What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?*And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?*I can only imagine what the first lady has to say...*You've come a long way, from whiskey and cocaine!*Chorus*Let me tell you'bout hard work*Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away*Let me tell you 'bout hard work*building a bed out of a cardboard box*Let me tell you 'bout hard work! Hard work! Hard work! Hard work!!!!!!*How do you sleep at night?*How do you walk with your head held high?*Dear Mr. President, you'd never take a walk with me*...would you?*

This weekend THANK a vet, find a bbq and enjoy your American freedom. Men and women died to give you this right.

-Maria

Real Life

I'm back to my real life. Back to dragging myself out of bed and doing the necessary to present myself to the world. Back to paying bills and scooping cat litter. Back to cleaning up hairballs and doing laundry. Back to my folder of take out menus and an empty refrigerator.

Gone are the lazy days of napping in the sun with a cocktail in one hand. Gone are the days of pool games with Jason and kisses under the Carribean sun. Evening fold down service is gone, I'm my own maid now.

We had a great time-minus the three hours we spent taxied at the gate on our flight to Miami. Oh yeah, and minus the black out in Cancun our last night. Only me, only me. Honestly, it added to the adventure. Even the fact that I had to hold Jason's hand at take off to help him keep calm-all these little parts flavored the trip.

I took a bunch of pictures but have yet to develop the film (yes, I still use film). I actually own a digital camera but still prefer to use my 35 mm. Call me old fashioned...

Once I have them up I will post more.

I'm baaaccckkk...

Actually I've been back a few days. I've been swamped with work and life but I will update soon. Things are good with me I mean Mariah Carey is in concert (tickets WILL be gotten-I'm in the fan club so I get pre-sale tickets!) and I have already got tickets for X-Men: The Last Stand on Friday. It don't get much better n' dat!!

Leaving on a jet plane, unfortunately I know exactly when I'll be back again...May 23rd.

See you then.

Dear God,

It's me, Maria. I'm too through. If I wasn't going on vacation this weekend I'd probably be going to jail because everyONE and everyTHING is getting on my nerves. I haven't lost it though. I'm hanging in there cause I can see my silver lining. Only thing is it's blue not silver and the lining is water.

In other unrelated but equally important news, I woke up at 3am this morning. Instead of beating myself back to bed I watched the Jeffersons. I love watching the that television show, it makes me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside. Maybe it's just because it reminds me of a simplier time? After that I had a bowl of oatmeal because it's the only thing eatable that I had to eat in the house. I really need to start buying food. For serious.

Next I organized my kitchen cabinets. This didn't take long because only two of the four cabinets contain food items. Well, if you consider spices (for food I never have) and a million boxes of tea- food items then well, yeah. Don't forget the aluminum foil, I got 3 rolls of that. It's good for wrapping up left over take out.

Project number 3 was washing the dishes. Three bowls, three cups and a few forks and spoons later I was done. Next, I focused my energy on the "pantry" (read:refrigerator). I use the "pantry" to not only store items that need to be kept at a lower temperature but also to store my tupperware, pots, pans and whatever else I want to keep out of sight. I dumped anything old and made everything neat. Now all I need is some food and I'll be set.

Project number 4 was to reorganize my cd's (yes, I still use them). I have a tendency to use a cd and not return it to it's rightful case. After a few weeks I have a stack of cds and a bunch of empty cases. This morning I matched cd cases to cd's. I did all of this before 6am!

Last night I did a bulk of my packing so I'm nearly good to go.

...

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will not be negative I will celebrate my life. I will smile. I will see the blessing of having another day to live and I will be thankful for my .... years of life. Hey, I'm still a work in progress! I'm not ready to say it outloud yet...

Lead me not into temptation...I know my way

In a last ditch act of insuring a flat stomach while on vacation-I've given up sugar. Of course, now it is the only thing that I think about day and night. I am determined though, forget about the thunder in my thighs, or the jiggle in my arms, these things won't matter when you see my flat stomach.
I have two more work days this week (I'm off tomorrow) and a crap load of "things to do" still. First and foremost, I need to pack. I'm a slow packer. I usually start packing about a week and a half out. This insures that I don't forget anything. As of today I haven't packed a stitch of clothing. Grant it some of those stitches are still at the wash-n-fold waiting for me to pay $31.75 and pick them up, something that I was supposed "to-do" on Sunday. I have packed in my mind though...so that should speed up the process a bit. I've bought a few new pieces for this trip-I kind of had too. My vacation pictures were begining to look oddly like one long long vacation. There might be more of me to love this time around but gosh darnit if I won't look cute!
Secondly, I need to get there mentally. The month started off really rough and I haven't quite been able to get to vacation zone in my mind yet. I still haven't grasped the fact that it is indeed May and I'm leaving this weekend.
This is the first vacation for the man and I. We will head to Miami for a few days before we jet over to Cancun. Don't you love the way that sounds! I can almost smell the salt in the air and visualize the frozen drink in my hand.
I've been forewarned that quite a few break ups have occurred following a couples vacation to South Beach. I say, "I'll take my chances". I am really excited to have the opportunity to share my two loves with one another. Summer starts on Sunday...I'm So Excited!!!!!!

It doesn't matter if your black or white

Last week I read a post dealing with racial issues. It dealt with being a black woman in a world that can't seem to accept you because your not "black" enough. It struck a cord with me on so many levels.
I'm So tired of this debate. I'm so tired with people telling me I "sound white". I'm so tired of being accused of not being black enough. Of people telling me that I don't think I'm black. Your right, I don't "think" that I'm black, I "know" that I am.
Why does being black have to be equated with poor speech, a style of dress or the music that you listen to? Those are always the first things that are attacked when someone is deemed not black enough. The funny thing is that the white folks think that I'm too black for them.
That leaves me in limbo.
I haven't felt like this for quite some time but, ever so often I come across someone who plays that old tune. Someone who thinks they know who I am- "Oh, your from Long Island, that's why you talk like that". No, I talk like this because this is how my black mother talked to me.
Why can't we all just be human beings and try to co-exist? Why can't I listen to whatever I want to on the radio and have an appreciation for all music? I love and appreciate Hip-hop and R&B but it's not the only music on the planet. Black folks started rock and roll.
I grew up in a home where every human being was presented as equal. Yes, some preconcieved ideas snuck in here and there, that is human nature. I was encouraged to stay true to who I am. I've struggled with this. I've even doubted myself at times-wondering if the haters were right. One thing that I love about New York City is that everyone gets to be whoever they want to be. If whoever that person is happens to be a bit out there it's just chalked up to, "Only in New York". I've never felt more free than living here. There are the moments though when I'm slapped in the face with the realization that even HERE it's still not safe.

Inhale...Exhale...Inhale...Exhale...

As I came off my high of finishing the half marathon last week I had a death in the family. My first reaction was one of sadness at the loss of my uncle. Although we had never been very close he always attended family functions with a smile on his face and a hug for everyone. My aunt and uncle were extremely close as were their children and they are taking this loss very hard. My sadness and hurt was for them, I can barely imagine the pain they must feel. The lost a brother and uncle whose daily life was intricately interwoven with theirs in such a way that his death leaves a gapping hole. There is no way to measure the pain. My uncle leaves behind a 23 year old shadow. It is the only way to describe the relationship that this father and son shared. There was rarely one without the other. They lived and breathed each one another. When I think about the pain of losing a parent I almost want to cry. I once had a dream that my mother had left this earth and in my dream I couldn't stop screaming. The emptiness and lonliness felt heavy and dark on my chest, I could hardly take in a breathe. I woke up with tears in my eyes and immediately called my mom to make sure she was okay. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have my mom. I wouldn't want to be on this earth anymore. I just don't see the point. Even thinking about the day, a day...I can't...I can't think about this.

Past tense:

There is always one that you have to get out of your system. They are poison for you, and you know this but, they get "in" you and you can't get over the addiction. His name was, well, I am opting to protect the less than innocent. He was my latin love. I think every girl should have one-they're good for the soul.
We met at the gym. It was the first and only time that I met someone in which the initial meeting had a palpable chemistry. You could smell the pheromones and feel the eletricity. He was my self esteem booster. To be looked at the way he did, there wasn't any other way to feel. He was very sure of himself in an almost cocky way and yet, you couldn't turn away. You (I) listened to him. I kind of wanted him to boss me around, as much as it angered me-I kept coming back for more. Whatever he gave, I took. Some where along this story things got really twisted. The fun game ended and the lies began. Honestly, the lies were always there I suppose it's just that I got tired of hearing them. I got tired of half truths and deception. Chemistry was no longer enough to hold me. I needed more. I felt that I deserved more.
I grew up.
One day I opened my eyes, I mean really opened my eyes and knew that I couldn't do this anymore. I deleted him from my phone and asked that he do the same. I went through withdrawal but it was worth it to have back my sanity. I got over him. Slowly slowly I got over him. He made a brief reappearance claiming rebirth, asking for a chance to prove himself. I declined.
On Saturday he came back. Well, it wasn't HIM actually, it was just his scent. He sat next to me on the subway platform surrounded by a cloud of Acqua di Gio. The smell knocked me back a few years and took my breathe away for a moment. Then I was back. I couldn't help but smile. I'm glad for the memories but, it lets me know how far I've come. How much more I know myself and the things I want and don't want. I've had the opportunity to go down that rocky road again but, I chose not to. I am proud of myself for that.