the randomest ever
I don't think I could be any more random than I am right now. (Ok, I probably could, but I'm dramatic. Work with me.)
It has taken me this long (it'll be 4 weeks on Saturday) to physically & mentally recover from Hawaii. The first week I had to constantly remind myself that not only do I have a job, but they expect me to show up at 8:00am, Eastern Time and they usually like it when I do some actual work. That was a tough sell during week 1, to say the least.
So I got the whole
(1) get up,
(2) get it together,
(3) go to work,
(4) work
thing down pat and then I had to deal with being physically exhausted. I mean pooped. Sleep at 8pm. Knocked out. And still tired in the morning.
At the same time I was battling constant fatigue, I was embracing the reality that my most recent (not-so) imaginary boyfriend does not have what it takes to be my future husband. And for the first time in roughly a year, I got really sad about my alone-ness. My frequent, confident talks to self suddenly weren't so effective.
Telling myself (and others) that "my man is out there, he just hasn't found me yet" suddenly made me want to scream to myself (and others) "well why the fuck not?? All he has to do is Google me. I'm right here. And I am fabulous. Is his MapQuest broke? Jeez!"
When I remind myself (and others) that "I am more interested in being in a healthy relationship than just being part of a couple for the sake of not being alone", I find that I am questioning my list. "Is it unreasonable to want my man to make at least $30k a year? I mean, is it too much to ask that he come to me already earning a (barely) living wage?" "I have my own communication issues that I'm trying to work out - when I say that I want my man to be able to express himself honestly and directly, am I being hypocritical?"
When I revisit the reality that "I need for my man to have some culture and depth about himself...he has to read, and appreciate theater & visual art, he ought to be able to watch some indie film with me and share my love for food, and he needs to understand that my spirituality and my upbringing and my interests and my friends are not strange, they are not weird, they are not "different" or "unique" or "white"(sarcastic, condescending tone implied), they are beautiful and valid and relevant." I wonder if I blew it when I broke up with the guy who was 100% with me on the culture & depth tip, but when it came to the emotional maturity and the living wage / career goals part......not so much.
And when I find myself thinking about this stuff for more than ten minutes at a time, I get mad. So today, instead of continuing this dumb ass day-by-day cycle of sad ~ mad ~ sad ~ mad, I'm going to get over it and find something else to do. People are dying in Iraq and Lebanon and Ethiopia - my problems pale in comparison.
Moving on.........
I'm trying to prepare for auditions this Sunday. I'll do a monologue from Who Will Sing For Lena, of course. And I've got about 70 hours to learn a monologue from The Shadow Box. Hopefully the directors will be awed & dazzled by me and there will be a small fight over who will cast me in their piece. There are 3 that I would really like to do, and as always, they are running consecutively. We'll see what happens.
Saturday I'm getting micro-braids. I will be a walking, talking example of "never say never", 'cause I sure said I would never get those things again! I was ok with the amount of time it took (back in the day it was 22 hours; hopefully this time will be closer to 8). It was the removal of said braids that made me want to shoot myself. Why is it that when you need help taking your micros down, nobody wants to step up? Well, the only reason I agreed to do this again is because my regular beautician agreed to take them down for me, as well as maintain them for as long as I keep them in. Ok, well there's more reasons than that I guess. I don't do well with new growth. I dig & scratch at it. Since I'm trying to transform myself and there won't be any chemical altering of my natural coils, I'm gonna need to wrap those coils in some $40-a-bag, 20 inch, Yaki Perm, human, made in China hair.
Dr. Dyson has redeemed himself, as I knew he would. After reading the Bash Cosby book, I felt like I needed a palate cleanser, so-to-speak. So I picked up "Come Hell or High Water: Hurricane Katrina and the Color of Disaster", knowing that this would do the trick. One of the things that I like about Dr. Dyson is that he structures his writing so that all the facts get laid out in plain view before he starts drawing conclusions. So whether you agree with those conclusions or not, you've got a full set of facts to work with. Now, I'm not sure how anybody could disagree with the fact that there was an enormous failure on the part of government at all levels. Enormous and more than a little fishy. "Come Hell or High Water..." does an excellent job of slowly exposing the details & history of what seemed fishy to the naked eye. And surprisingly, he was able to do it without getting me all riled up, like I usually am when I think about my people down there waiting and suffering for days. As difficult as I find his writing style, I was able to finish the book in 4 days. But now my brain hurts. I'll read "The Devil Wears Prada" on Saturday while I'm getting my wig busted, then that's gotta be it for a minute. I need to watch some Oprah (my TiVo is getting dangerously full) and start watching The Wire.
So there you have it...yet another post about how positively random (and sad and mad and over it) I am. Perhaps something noteworthy will happen in the coming days & I'll be focused yet again.
It has taken me this long (it'll be 4 weeks on Saturday) to physically & mentally recover from Hawaii. The first week I had to constantly remind myself that not only do I have a job, but they expect me to show up at 8:00am, Eastern Time and they usually like it when I do some actual work. That was a tough sell during week 1, to say the least.
So I got the whole
(1) get up,
(2) get it together,
(3) go to work,
(4) work
thing down pat and then I had to deal with being physically exhausted. I mean pooped. Sleep at 8pm. Knocked out. And still tired in the morning.
At the same time I was battling constant fatigue, I was embracing the reality that my most recent (not-so) imaginary boyfriend does not have what it takes to be my future husband. And for the first time in roughly a year, I got really sad about my alone-ness. My frequent, confident talks to self suddenly weren't so effective.
Telling myself (and others) that "my man is out there, he just hasn't found me yet" suddenly made me want to scream to myself (and others) "well why the fuck not?? All he has to do is Google me. I'm right here. And I am fabulous. Is his MapQuest broke? Jeez!"
When I remind myself (and others) that "I am more interested in being in a healthy relationship than just being part of a couple for the sake of not being alone", I find that I am questioning my list. "Is it unreasonable to want my man to make at least $30k a year? I mean, is it too much to ask that he come to me already earning a (barely) living wage?" "I have my own communication issues that I'm trying to work out - when I say that I want my man to be able to express himself honestly and directly, am I being hypocritical?"
When I revisit the reality that "I need for my man to have some culture and depth about himself...he has to read, and appreciate theater & visual art, he ought to be able to watch some indie film with me and share my love for food, and he needs to understand that my spirituality and my upbringing and my interests and my friends are not strange, they are not weird, they are not "different" or "unique" or "white"(sarcastic, condescending tone implied), they are beautiful and valid and relevant." I wonder if I blew it when I broke up with the guy who was 100% with me on the culture & depth tip, but when it came to the emotional maturity and the living wage / career goals part......not so much.
And when I find myself thinking about this stuff for more than ten minutes at a time, I get mad. So today, instead of continuing this dumb ass day-by-day cycle of sad ~ mad ~ sad ~ mad, I'm going to get over it and find something else to do. People are dying in Iraq and Lebanon and Ethiopia - my problems pale in comparison.
Moving on.........
I'm trying to prepare for auditions this Sunday. I'll do a monologue from Who Will Sing For Lena, of course. And I've got about 70 hours to learn a monologue from The Shadow Box. Hopefully the directors will be awed & dazzled by me and there will be a small fight over who will cast me in their piece. There are 3 that I would really like to do, and as always, they are running consecutively. We'll see what happens.
Saturday I'm getting micro-braids. I will be a walking, talking example of "never say never", 'cause I sure said I would never get those things again! I was ok with the amount of time it took (back in the day it was 22 hours; hopefully this time will be closer to 8). It was the removal of said braids that made me want to shoot myself. Why is it that when you need help taking your micros down, nobody wants to step up? Well, the only reason I agreed to do this again is because my regular beautician agreed to take them down for me, as well as maintain them for as long as I keep them in. Ok, well there's more reasons than that I guess. I don't do well with new growth. I dig & scratch at it. Since I'm trying to transform myself and there won't be any chemical altering of my natural coils, I'm gonna need to wrap those coils in some $40-a-bag, 20 inch, Yaki Perm, human, made in China hair.
Dr. Dyson has redeemed himself, as I knew he would. After reading the Bash Cosby book, I felt like I needed a palate cleanser, so-to-speak. So I picked up "Come Hell or High Water: Hurricane Katrina and the Color of Disaster", knowing that this would do the trick. One of the things that I like about Dr. Dyson is that he structures his writing so that all the facts get laid out in plain view before he starts drawing conclusions. So whether you agree with those conclusions or not, you've got a full set of facts to work with. Now, I'm not sure how anybody could disagree with the fact that there was an enormous failure on the part of government at all levels. Enormous and more than a little fishy. "Come Hell or High Water..." does an excellent job of slowly exposing the details & history of what seemed fishy to the naked eye. And surprisingly, he was able to do it without getting me all riled up, like I usually am when I think about my people down there waiting and suffering for days. As difficult as I find his writing style, I was able to finish the book in 4 days. But now my brain hurts. I'll read "The Devil Wears Prada" on Saturday while I'm getting my wig busted, then that's gotta be it for a minute. I need to watch some Oprah (my TiVo is getting dangerously full) and start watching The Wire.
So there you have it...yet another post about how positively random (and sad and mad and over it) I am. Perhaps something noteworthy will happen in the coming days & I'll be focused yet again.
posted by Piscean Princess at 11:46 AM
8 Comments:
There is nothing wrong with wanting a man and having standards. When you know what you want, it's easier to find (or so they say). Plus, being poor and in love is overrated...especially if he believes entertainment begins and ends with The Wayans Brothers. There is nothing wrong (or bougie) about appreciating the arts.
Good luck with the braids. I've never had them. I think they'd make me feel confined. May you embrace your naturalness in all its kinky glory!
S* said...
"or so they say"
yeah, I suspect I'd be the queen of couple-ville if I could just lower those pesky standards!
;)
I'm embracing....but I am really looking forward to the confinement of the braids.
I know it doesn't help to say this...b/c when I was single I hated when my "couple" friends would say it...but now that I am one of your "couple" friends...I know why they said it. Embrace your independence and your freedom to not have to answer to another person. Although there are many wonderful things about being one half of a couple...there are things that drive you crazy, make you want to pull your hair out...and make you long for your days of freedom when you could do whatever you wanted to with no consequences to anyone else. I know it sounds like crap and it isn't what you wanted to hear, but as your friend I figured I'd give my two cents worth...and now I'll just shut my mouth...listen you...be there for you...in anyway that I can.
i guess i'll add my own unsolicited advice to the fray :)
what i've learned throughout my relatively short life is that we never find someone when we are "looking". Life (and love) is what happens when we are doing other things. Now like others have said, there's nothing wrong with having standards but we all have to be careful of being so strict with ourselves that we miss out on an opportunity to get to know someone who may be exactly what we NEED instead of what we think we WANT.
If someone had written down who J is on a piece of paper and i looked at all his qualities, i'd have been like 'no way would me and this man be good together' and he DEFINITELY would have said the same about me, on paper. But through getting to know each other, we found that our differences actually complemented each other; what he lacked, i could provide and vice versa. It was amazing.
Now if we could just do something about that pesky ocean :)
Damali is very right. If I'd been set up in a basement somewhere with a broad assortment of s.o. parts, I would never have come up with anyone like my actual s.o., and (I suspect) vice versa. And yet, it's worked out. To some degree, it works out because we have different backgrounds and interests: we can expand one another's worlds a bit. In other words, it's less important to meet a guy who already has a strong interest in the arts than it is to meet a guy who could develop one, who is intellectually curious about things, thoughtful, etc. Which is a lot more likely.
As for never finding someone when you're looking, well, that's not been my experience. I was looking. But it's true to the extent that it's usually a surprise: you can't guess what's going to happen by what's happened before, and you can't guess when it's going to happen at all. The main thing is just to stay out there, in situations where you know a lot of people already or where you're likely to meet a lot of people.
OMG! You mean, you're human?!? Jeez! And here all this time, I thought you were totally together! (NOT!) :^)
I just came across a new "candidate" for boyfriend myself and the jury is still so out. But in the middle of this part of the phase, a couple of things are occurring to me that don't ususally (for whatever reason).
It's not the standards that cause me the problems. Most of my standards were developed over time based on what I already know won't work, rather than what I think would work. Things like rigorous honesty and mutual respect and some clue about life outside of the masculine perspective, an ability and willingness to be vulnerable, having his own car (don't ask), etc.
But my early reactions (such as I'm having now) seem to be based on patterns or practices he's gotten into over time as an individual that I think are questionable/ridiculous/not-the-way-I-think-it-should-be-done, etc. I mean, I'm one of these people who spent most of my life thinking there was only one way to fold a t-shirt. Now, though, I'm thinking there is more than one way to fold a t-shirt, but I just don't want 'em folded some other way in my closet. Hmmm. So, does this mean I'm edging toward being able to keep my nose out of somebody else's closet? Well, that remains to be seen.
One thing I've noticed, though: I'm just saying to him whatever pops into my mind even at this early stage in the "relationship" and he appears to be doing the same--in the interest of cutting out weeks of dancing around waiting to be gut honest and finding out we shouldn't have bothered.
Obviously, I have nothing to offer but the idea that it's all a process and I'm pretty old and I'm still in it, but I'm still learning stuff...so where there's life, there's hope, Princess. And it ain't over till the lady in the braids sings.
ah, the recurring question of whether you standards are too high. i ask myself that from time to time, and also go from sad to mad like you. since i'm in the same boat as you, i don't have much useful feedback. just know i completely empathize.
good luck with the braiding process. micros never looked right on me, so i had to stop getting them. i need a protective hairstyle, but i don't think i want to get any more braids or twists. i guess that means i may have to enter into the world of weave.
8 hours later, my braids are beautiful! I was certain that I was going to murder the lady (cause those last few hurt so bad!) but I managed not to commit a felony & I'm pretty doggone cute as a result. woo hoo!
Changeseeker - good luck with the "trying-the-new-dude-out" process. (and thank you for acknowledging my human-ness! I needed that...) I feel you about the standards. In my 32 years, I think I have come up with some pretty reasonable deal-breakers (and not having a vehicle would definately qualify as a deal-breaker!) and it's impossible for me to backpeddle on those things. That portion of this post was not so much about second guessing myself, but more about getting tired of hearing the same monologue playing in my head over and over. I hope your guy (and you, of course) continue to be up-front in the most comfortably brutal way y'all know how......so you can decide if you're willing to give him a shot at the title!
Post a Comment
<< Home