rainy day thoughts

rumblings of thunder followed by the raindrops on the ground...
today is such a lazy & rainy day.
it makes me wish i had a clean apartment & a glass of rum cream

to just chill out and meditate...

while i dont have the clean apartment, i will enjoy this rum cream. todays choice..cruzan rum cream. YUM

coffee thought...

today i decided to go another route
yes, i am forgoing the coffee and decided on the pomegranate passion jamba juice. this is the first time i am delving to the whole juicing thing (yes my mom had me buy a juicer...who knew she was soo 'hip-to-the-game')
at any rate, we will see exactly if this juice vs. coffee makes me any more sane that the average bear..

that's all...

coffee thought...

some days there is just nothing to say...
just drink...
that's all...

coffee thought...

i wonder if a cup of coffee a day keeps the doctor away.

or if i miss my dose of java will i then need some medical attention STAT...

thats all...

We walk for a cure...

today we did a good thing. we walked in a fundraiser for the American Cancer Society called relay-for-life. basically we (team sole train) had a table and sold cupcakes & did face painting and walked and had a great time. Our team goal was$5,000 and we raised like $1400 towards it, but still that is more to go towards finding a cure to this horrible horrible disease.
myself, khalid & tricia chillin, here we have Team capitan tricia & Tanya
Tessa & Cotia about to "relay" super relayer Matt

The thing that touched me immensely was the "luminaria"- all around the track in white bags with sand were candles. On each bag was the name of a person who passed from cancer. Tricia purchased one for mom [in loving memory] this final walk of the evening, the cancer survivors were positioned around the track & someone started the walk with a torch and as everyone went around more & more people came behind them clapping and supporting them...we stand behind them always. It was amazing and emotional and a very touching tribute to those that passed/those that survived/& those that are there to fight this fight.

more pics to follow...

coffee thought...

sometimes it just takes more than 1 cup...

that's all...

coffee thought...

i love how my people love me, co-worker anthony here didnt see my cup of java and was like "Nata, you need coffee?? (very concerned)" i was like awwwww they know their life is in danger without.

that's all...

Settling for Mr. Right now…(Part1)

I just read the most fascinating article called “Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough” by Lori Gottlieb, a fascinating writer (http://www.lorigottlieb.com/).
This article was forwarded to me by one of my good friends who happens to be “in a quandary” to put it mildly. Now, my understanding of this article is that Ms. Gottlieb makes a case for not holding out for Mr. Perfect or Mr. Right in your 30’s +. That this one person could not possibly satisfy every one of your every waking needs (in a phrase complete you) does NOT exist.
Her point is if you are currently with someone who is “just ok” then maybe they should be who you marry pronto because if you are holding out for perfection or waiting on the white knight to ride up on a horse and scoop you away, you could potentially be one lonely person.

This is just one woman’s experience, and as an Ivy League educated single parent (by choice). This is her reality.
This does not sit well with me.

Again, realizing this is her experience, her opinion, her reality, I wonder what does this mean for others? (Specifically me) does this mean that I, a person who has set goals and ideas about life, specific desires and passions I want to experience, specific things I want to accomplish…

that I should just settle.

Just settle.

It sounds like something out of the stone ages.
It sounds like a dirty word.
It sounds like something in the bottom of the toilet.
It sounds like there may be some truth to it…

Think about it: giving up on the possibility of anything and accepting the reality of nothing

(I don’t like the sound of that)

And what about love? What about love?
Love, the emotion, feeling, and action that is supposed to conquer everything, that is supposed to be truly & really the end all be all. What about love? Is that not a factor in this life’s equation (not that I am walking around this earth in rose colored glasses waiting for love to fall out the sky or anything, but something has to be said about love)?

What about Fate? Faith? Trust in God’s plan?
I don’t know… I have to think more on this…
Stay tuned…

coffee thought...

i dont understand why people want to play

"oooh lets see if i can ride the subway without holding the rail"

in the morning and continously mash up my feet with their non workings of the pole.

balance people...that is all i am asking for!

that's all...

lunch time

we need food to live, that's how I see it. So when it is time for me to get the necessary sustanice in this world thru a meal rather than my preferred method of java, i start the "neverending quest for a good meal". this quest happens daily because since "my body is my temple" on some days & hoping 'my body is a wonderland' on others, i can become picky for what i put in me --> (insert joke here)
it's funny, that for a plus-size girl i am a picky eater.
Go figure.
I have many quirks about what I will eat & what i won't. (for example, I tend NOT to do leftovers. Unless it is something I cooked and was particularly fond of (like my chili or baked chicken) then i will do it. Other than that, it is a one shot deal...) all this to say...
i am eating a salad for lunch.
WHY?
do i particularly enjoy salad ??(some days yes, today is not that day)
this day, a salad happened upon me because due to the sheer laziness factor of actually walking a greater distance to an actual food mart than the deli next door (called campus thievery by most) i just ain't feel like it.
plain and simple. so i go next door and the ONLY thing appetizing in the entire place is a freakin salad.
i think it is a conspiracy for forced weight loss...

coffee thought...

at this time i think i may be in love with juan valdez...

that's all...

coffee thought...

it's nice when things work out the way you plan...
even if it means just 1 shelf is up in the bathroom.
that's all...

coffee thought...

today i didn't have any coffee.

there were thunderstorms & lightening and major malfunctions today.

I wonder if there is a connection.

that's all...

paraskavedekatriaphobia

Today is Friday the 13th

It seems that things are supposed to happen today, like random acts of bad luck and drama of some sorts. Apparently many people have a real fear and dread of this day (or the # 13, or the combination of the two…go figure.) Well as I learned on the train this am is that the one passenger chick never usually takes the train, but decided to on this date cause she didn’t want to drive her car to the city this morning. (Clearly I looked like I wanted to chat this morning pre-coffee and all…) she was a nicely dressed older lady (older like 40’s??) Well she quoted some statistic about the # of train accidents vs. # of plane accidents vs. # of train accidents so she felt we were on the safer end of the spectrum (where she got this tidbit of knowledge is beyond me). As I nod and make the almost appropriate ‘commuter-train-gestures-to-random-strangers-in-the-morning’ [handbook to follow shortly folks], she seems genuinely pleased to be having this conversation this am (at a rather loud decibel) since the ipod was on and I was trying to write more pages of my scintillating novel [novel to follow not so shortly], she asks can I have a dollar.
Now yes, in NYC at any given point in the day +any point in time of your commute/daily living someone will approach you for money. It is a given. Hell, people I know approach me for funds when we get paid on the same day (ya’ll know who you are) but that is a way different kind of approach than this woman.
She decided that with my dollar, she would play lotto today and if she wins, she will find me to give me the winning money. She would not keep a dime (not that I asked her why she wanted a dollar, I just looked at her…) my look must have said something like “undoubtedly you don’t think I am about to give you a dollar out of the goodness of my heart lady, and do I look like an idiot?” I politely say, sorry don’t have a dollar, and she responded its ok, she will use her own and still will come find me.
Nice. I wonder if the threat of her finding me is considered stalking & can I get a restraining order?
But at any rate, suffice it to say, the train ride went relatively quick (I was still writing & she was still talking though I wasn’t listening), and easy (she did turn and engage the other passenger woman next to her for a brief time).
As it was my time to get off the train, (OH what luck she is getting off at 14th street union square stations as well); I politely said have a nice day as we both got off the train & she proceeded to turn left to go up the stairs.
And trip. Going up the first stair.
(Yes, she was ok, just a slight stumble which was utterly hilarious given the current circumstances; and she laughed it off herself)
But she proceeds to say (I don’t know to whom, me? Everyone else around her? GOD? Mother Earth?)

THIS IS WHY I DON’T TAKE THE TRAIN.

Can I tell you how funny this is to start my day?
She doesn’t take the train cause she can’t walk??
I can NOW see why it is perilous to take the train...

coffee thought...

i want to understand myself...

that's all...

coffee thought

sugar, i need sugar...

that's all...

kinda cute...

Today, I am quite chipper (pre-caffeine) owning to the fact that I got some GOOD sleep last night (aided by expired muscle relaxer pills) so the thought of the daunting commute to work had no effect on me today.
As I decide on the outfit to wear (today it is a tan simple button up dress with a red patent leather belt cause I LOVE an accessory) I think, “Hmm, kinda cute today,” and go about my business of trying to make it to work on time.

SOOO I start to carry myself kinda cutely.
My daily commute usually involves a 2-minute walk to the bus stop, bus to the train station, then 2 trains & a slight walk to my office. (Hello NYC commuters!) Since I don’t have a functional coffee maker at home, all this is done pre-caffeine- a highly risky task for all the people (including myself) who attempt to engage me this early in the morning. I make it to the bus stop, bus driver is like “hello pretty lady” I politely respond good morning sir (I am slightly British, so semi-proper) and he is like “ooh, and a sexy voice” considering when I get on the bus, he is about level with my “girls” (well, they are more like grown women’s since girls denote growth still & if these puppies are still growing, then I am in trouble, but I digress…)
I get to the train station and my train is there. This diva doesn’t run to the bus, nor run to the approaching train...I saunter. Yes, it is a learned skill- lessons start at $9.95; and sure enough, train conductor holds the train door open for me. Thanks! Usually, right in your face, slam! And the inevitable announcement “there is another train behind this one”

I make it to work (still late, but I am sure once I get here, and they witness the cuteness I got going on all will be forgiven) and I wonder, what made this morning such a good morning pre-coffee? Coffee is what it normally takes to make me crack a smile in the am.
So I guess I ask & answer it must be the kinda cute in you today. Well, what does “kinda cute” look like? Since everything is ‘checking out’ today, I am kinda feeling myself and am damn proud of the 2 feet I have to walk on (*and wear cute shoes on), and the 2 arms I have (*to hold the ones I love close), and my head on my shoulders, et al( to think, feel breath & live).
Life is good…
On my way to get coffee to make it better…

who's running things....

just to let you know who is running things in our office....




HAHAHA

agua, water hydration

in an effort to stay fully hydrated and get my 8-10 glasses of water in per day, can i just say i LOVE smartwater!!!
why?
it is a good clean taste, with a cute goldfish pic in the bottle.
yeah, i drink water cause the fish is cute...go figure.

poem of the day...

i thought that once today came,
yesterday would be a memory.
i thought that once i opened my eyes
to this brand new day
the nightime fears would be no more.
i thought that if i pretended
not to care
i would feel again.
i thought that when you loved me
the love I had for you would expand
I think I am mistaken
in the thoughts I had of you

coffee thought...

make yourself happy

because no one else is going to do it for you!

that's all...

coffee thought...

My friend Claudia was talking about a particular black male; specifically his idiotic dopiness and in her words, “it’s such a waste… such a waste of pretty black skin.” Oh my goodness I love it… that is exactly how it is sometimes!!

that’s all

coffee thought...

if these damn gas prices keep rising, i swear I am gonna start running to work...and now they are proposing another fare hike for the MTA?

are you serious???

they just raised the dammed thing like 3 months ago....
this economy is bugged out!!!!
that's all...

good morning

what happens when you get home at 7 pm on a friday night and go to sleep?

you wake up at 6 am on a saturday morning and happen to catch a marathon of Prince videos on vh1.

that short man is a talented MF!

coffee thought...

Jealousy is the tribute mediocrity pays to genius

that's all...

poem of the day...

Anticipation is the addiction that keeps me wanting you…
The pulsating vibes of your chocolate ride makes you desirable...
Much to my consternation you feel the same way too...
And as disconcerting as that may seem…I love you

can i tell u about love??

Donavan & Eileen

May 10, 2008

let me begin to try to explain this love to you...

can you see the love and joy on their faces?

these two are truly, madly, deeply a love story gone right...

sealed with a kiss.

May God bless their love & commitment

forever

weight loss journey...

yeah i am on one...

i will let you know where i end up

coffee thought...

As an avid coffee drinker I often ponder life over my divine cup of java.

Random thoughts like :

If I am entering your store/ coffee shop in clear and desperate need of the narcotic (caffeine) and you proceed to do the following things:

1. try to make small talk
2. try to crack a joke
3. try NOT to do your job to the utmost ability OR
4. MESS UP MY ORDER

Then prepare for my scathing look of evil upon you while I try to remain in control of my limbs and desperately attempt not to wrap them around your throat and choke the utter nonsense out of you.

that's all...

Addiction is...

look at the shoes....

I think I am an addict, and admitting it would be the first step…

Definition: Addict noun a person who is addicted to an activity, habit, substance, or compulsive activity<---I imagine I am that 3rd one; but let me explain why and how…

So in an ongoing attempt to organize my life, and thus in the organization of the creative chaos called my existence; I will achieve some clarity and gain the divine vision that is the purpose of my being enabling me to effectively take over the world…

(Translation: yeah I am trying to straighten up) AGAIN.
At the suggestion of Tanya, she said I could utilize my closet space better by putting some or most of my shoes in these great clear shoe boxes from this place called the container store.

You can see their site at (http://www.containerstore.com/).

With this help even I could get my organization on…
Well as I purchased a case of 20 shoe boxes ($34.00) and thought hmmm is this going to be enough? I mean surely as a woman of a certain age, I have a number of shoes but favor a fair few + as a African-American woman + native New Yorker my MTA commute means I wear sneakers because you never know when you will have to stop, drop and roll, or run to the Bronx as one escapes out of dodge.

just like the boy scouts, I am always prepared, so I could not possibly have that many shoes...
And as I delve deep into the depths of my closet to stopover some of my secrets (oooh who knew that was in here) and visit some of my skeletons (hey how ya'll doing? Long time no see) I seem to have some "choice" footwear that should definitely be retired (is that a penny loafer?), and some others that I truly didn't know I had (hello red ankle strap heels!)

Now as I organize the shoes shoes shoes and take pics of them

(for insurance purposes of course)

I wonder…

at what point is this above and beyond a slight addiction to a full blown problem?

When I had to go back to the container store on Sunday to get another 20 boxes? Or now, when I am contemplating purchasing the boot boxes at $8.00 a box (cause they so pretty)

…hmmm...

I can certainly relate to MY inner Carrie Bradshaw, but my outer Diva is like, "Look trick, the boots can stand all by themselves in the closet" and think about it; the approximately $72 I would save on not purchasing the boot boxes could go towards another shoe. Of course this would then just put me into a vicious circle of going out to procure more shoe boxes (though I could acquire just one at a time…but why?) oh what a tangled web we weave…

To Whom It May Concern:
Two things as I set forth this (_____)THIS ALL into the universe
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
1) Send me some clarity in this existence called life (cause I figure if I straightened up my life a bit, life would open up room for more...)
2) send me a man who will love me for me (and my shoesJ)
just love…

the 3rd anniversary of my 29th birthday

So apparently the 3rd anniversary of my 29th birthday came and went.

I am still HERE.

I am coming to terms with the insane adultness that recently decided to creep up on me and land right in the middle of my lap.

Yes, I said it crept up on me, because as prepared as I am for whatever may come, somehow one is never prepared for THIS.

• More than the death of my mother, it is MOM entering the new life as an Angel, and me entering my life as grown.


• More than me asking why and how am I going to make it thru this, it is us helping others and trying to make sure no one must go thru this ordeal as well (see relay for life... see St. Jude's Memorial fund)

It is without a doubt the life lessons that continue to enter the rational side of my brain; all the while the incoherent irrationalness of some of the thoughts that slip in the other side of my mind leads me to wonder…

I’ll let that be.

It is without a doubt why there is prayer, and why it works

the age of 25

Many, many moons ago when I was a little girl, I thought that at the age of 25 THINGS happen.

What things? (One may ask) well ANYTHING. Like? Sex, drugs, jazz & rock and roll?
Not necessarily in that order…but Life.
Plain and simple.
General “adultness” would happen. So I recall on the eve of my 25th birthday just thinking, "wow, is this what I planned for?"

Let me take you back…

May 22, 2001…
it was a Tuesday evening. Not too hot, not to cold, perfect spring weather.
Where was I? Painting what would become my very first apartment (as of June 1, 2001). I do recall thinking man, I know I have to turn on Con-Edison (gas & electric), think about having a home phone # (because who doesn’t have a home #) and think about actually furnishing this apartment...but overall I had this generally accomplished and almost satisfied feeling.

Almost.

What was missing, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet, but I seem to have thought that if I had someone to share this with, it would be better. Better than it currently was (in my mind) which was my first real foray into the single dome of the world. My first place/ space/ something to call my own. I do know that back then, I didn’t fully appreciate what was truly mine, and anticipated what could become an “ours”. <---who was this imaginary person that would share my world, NO CLUE, but I thought I was ready for love.
I also recall on the magical day of May 23rd, nothing really spectacular happened, (besides me being born of course)

I mean I went to work that day, got a few phone calls and cards, but had a generally pleasant day with the family.

Nothing happened.

I also know that because NOTHING happened, I needed to do something to make a change come.

This was the time I cut off my hair.

Back story- child of Island parentage, Mom from NY by way of Jamaica & Grenada, Dad from Bermuda, by way of Bermuda. Apparently, I am one of those with “good hair”. Always long, flowing, curly in the summer, easily straightened in the winter. Can be tamed and wild at the same time. ALWAYS told to keep my hair long, people [read= men] loved longhaired lassies. To cut ones hair made you ugly, and boyish and if you were a girl, then you may as well be a lesbian and call it a moment, so to come to the decision to cut my hair was not an easy one.

But I did, figuring it would be a new me.

A different me, maybe lead to a better me.
What happened?

NOTHING.

A few “Oh’s, that’s cute”. A few “wow, I can’t believe you did that”. One definite “oh my goodness you look so much better with long hair, don’t worry you can always buy a weave.” And another “I loved you with long hair”. I should of had a V-8

Fast-forward a couple of months—9/11/01.

The world changed. Big time.

While everyone around was tying to make sense of it all and trying to put the words together to make it be alright, everyone had the same issues of realizing something bigger than them (right here/right now) is happening. And as stupid as it may seem now, one of the MANY things I realized was the hair (MY HAIR) is just that- dead follicles on my head, no more a definition of me than the pink shirt I wear (on any given day) or the dress I choose to put on the next day.

And with that, I started to write again. Now, you must know that I have always written, contracts, journals, poetry, short stories, so I considered myself to be a writer of sorts. But it seemed that for awhile, I had no voice. I could no longer express anything to anyone. And I stopped putting pen to paper to let it out.

In my apartment, chicken grease was formed.

Chicken grease: a group of poets who are so amazingly talented, it is beyond belief.

Alone, pure fire. Together, unstoppable. Powerful.

This is to my fellow poets…
I realize: we make things happen.
Don’t stop.

keep writing.