Mahoganie: The Chronicals of a Komplex Phemale

The Art of Eating Alone

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 23:13:47 -0400

HOW TO WALK IN HIGH HEELS: THE GIRL'S GUIDE TO EVERYTHING

Camilla Morton

Recently my mother bought a book by London writer Camilla Morton; How To Walk in High Heels.

In between the distractions of the construction noise from the contractors and doing my "mommy thang," I found a little corner this weekend to claim temporarily and took time to skim the pages of the book. Based on the pages I've read thus far, this has to be the ultimate coffee table book that EVERY woman should have. Though I have never read Kimora Lee's book Fabulocity, which is her own guide to living a fabulous life, I have a feeling Morton may have her beat with this book.

Yes the title may seem ultra fem or girlie girlish and so may some of the written words inside the cover. However, there is a lot of useful information that Morton packs into this book. She begins, of course, talking about stilettos, heels..shoes. I smiled as I skimmed through because I feel that I'm a PRO in this department. She graciously introduces her readers to Manolo Blahnik (for those who are totally clueless) by including a brief bio and history on his shoes. She talks about how to go about getting fitted for the right bra, investing in stocks, resigning from a job, firing folks from their job, etiquette and appropriate attire for weddings, funerals and such and how to entertain. She also as a section that briefly breaks down the process of buying a house; from picking a real estate agent, applying for a loan, seeking a lawyer (if you want to), picking a house and the mortagage and giving houshold tips afterwards - like "How To Lay Tile."

With all the useful tips I've read through, one chapter really caught my eye; "How To Dine Alone." I'm no stranger to such a thing, because I've always felt confident enough to go out and have a "me day" or even (for lack of better words and not at the risk of sounding too Sex and the City cliche'-ish) "date my city." The first time I actually spent a night out alone I was set to have an evening with a girlfriend of mine. However, things fell through literally at the last minute where her babysitter backed out and she couldn't find anyone else. So I took myself dinner, had a drink or two at the bar and ended up watching Chicago in the movies. The last time I've actually done such a thing is most likely a year ago when I was pregnant. During a weekend in February I decided to take myself to see the Vagina Monologues, but first stopping in Ben's Chili Bowl for a bite to eat and Starbuck's for a lil dessert.

What I found interesting in reading this chapter was Morton's tips on how to remain poise doing such a thing. She suggests that you ask to be seated away from the crowd stressing the ALONE factor that you are there to eat alone and not near any distractions. She also suggests that you bring some kind of reading matarial with you to keep you a lil occupied if need be and to distract anyone who may want to disturb your quietness. She stresses that you can make your cell phone visible but don't fiddle with it. Fiddling with a phone on your "lone date," may send a signal that you are desperately waiting for it to ring - perhaps from the imaginary person that fake stood you up.

Everytime that I've dined alone I always feel worlds away or mysterious. I have noticed that I do pull in some glances and maybe some stares, but I don't mind it. Some have been from women who may be admiring my shoes or my purse at the time. Later I would receive a compliment. A couple may be from men who are too shy or too arrogant to say anything. Normally I do have some kind a reading material with me; a magazine, a newsletter from some community event or a newspaper. Sometimes I would have a pen and small writing pad in tow, in case I do get the urge to write something.

One of my favorite places to dine alone has been The Art Gallery Grille in the heart of downtown DC. It's kinda retro, with art deco decore that looks as if it has been in place since the 80s. Yet, it was there at the diner counter or in a booth hidden in a corner that I would munch on an old time greasy but good cheap eat of cheese eggs, bacon, wheat toast and hashbrowns for breakfast or a good old club sandwhich for lunch while reading the day's Washington Post. It was there I would go, straight from my visit with The Doc to reflect and internally cry what I hadn't cried out earlier. It was perfect. I was just another person added to the foot traffic along the K Street corridor. No one knew my name. Perfect!

I have to admit I was taken aback a week or so ago as I was meeting up with Suga Mama. She was waiting for me to arrive at our destination and decided to go to the nearby Ruby Tuesday's. I was running late, but when I arrived I found her sitting at the bar finishing up whatever she had ordered. It was then she turned to me and said,

"This is the first time I've ever done this. I never ate out alone before."

That sent a slight shock to my system, because I think I just assumed that every woman, AT LEAST ONCE, has dined out alone. Silly me right? Honestly, I would recommend that EVERY woman take their courage by the bull horns and take themselves on a simple "dine out" date. While it is good to be surrounded by your closest friends with the round of drinks flowing and food all sticky and yummy, sometimes you do need that small space to pay attention to yourself. Dining out alone or simply dating yourself IS a treat to yourself. Don't deny yourself!

No you aren't a looser if you do so and yes it does take a lot of guts to go to a nice spot, especially if it is a popular hot spot, alone.

*side note: may want to avoid the popular spots if you are shy about this*

This is just another way to stay in tuned to yourself. Reflect.Breath.Enjoy. It's another way to build up and ooze with confidence. There's nothing sexier or more fabulous than a woman who is confident in every way.

In my "book," as well as in Morton's, every woman is entitled to enjoy herself in all she does.

As for me, I haven't done any real dining out alone since the Snickerdoodle has been on the scene. Naturally if we are out and we dine I do find a spot away from the crowd to not distract from our mother/daughter time. As I wait for my food I interact and feed her to keep her occupied. At this age, when she sees my food she aims for it and wants a taste. Fun times! (insert sarcastic laugh - no seriously it is fun!)

As to when I will officially date myself again, I'm not sure. All I can say is I have heels in line and ready to go.

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It's All Me

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:15:04 -0400

Perfectly Imperfect

It seems that I've been forced to do some introspective thinking these past couple of days. It's pretty ironic, since I already feel as if I do anytime I put a pen to paper or even tap the keyboard to see my thoughts appear on a screen. Yet as take a breather in life I feel as if I have to have a conversation with myself and God concerning what's next for me or more importantly what is this phase in my life's journey about. What is there for me to learn, gain and possibly loose?

Granted, such thoughts have been in my head since the day I gave birth, but they seemed to have reappeared during this renovation process as I witness the house and my family go through a change. I laughed at myself the other day when I recently accepted an invite from a blog lurker on Yahoo 360. After accepting his invitation, it seemed in a matter of 24 hours he sent a message asking me to tell him something about myself. My response to him was,

"All you need to know is right there on the page."

At the time all I saw was a lurker turned virtual "friend" looking to be a potential reality confidant. Honestly, I don't have that kind of time nor energy especially with strange men trying to enter into my life with nothing more on the brain than scoring a potential booty call. What made me laugh after the fact was me asking myself the same thing.

"Tell me about yourself now."

Just the other day I was listening to Erykah Badu's latest CD, New Amerykah, in depth. I love Badu's music to death, but this latest really had to grow on me. It wasn't until Papi took me to see her last month that I now have a real appreciation for this new album. I loved it (better) live. However, there is one song that I've kept on repeat ever since I paid closer attention to the lyrics; the song "Me."

Everything around you see
The Ankhs, the wraps, the plus degrees
And yes even the mysteries
Its all me
Sometimes it hard to move you see
When you growing publicly
But if I have to chose between
I chose me

The same evening in which I was grooving to Badu, I logged onto Vox and saw the question of the day or a prompt. The prompt called for bloggers to revisit their first entry on Vox and reflect on any maturity between then and now. At the time I didn't jump at the chance to flip back through many blog pages on Vox to get to my first one. I knew what it was about and I knew EXACTLY what was going on in my life during the time I started writing in Vox.

My first entry was a mere introducing. Indeed I was no stranger to the blog world as I described myself as a blog whore. I was keeping several blogs (still do) as I felt lost at the time. I was "lost" because the one which I kept daily, held my thoughts from my hellish early 20 years and did some growing with was dead. It died thanks to a technological malfunction. Thankfully, I did have a majority of my writings from the site, but it was only what I had downloaded a year prior to the site death. So I had everything except that very last year that held my breaking point in which I did a major change.

The time when I joined Vox I was calming down from that major life change, but little did I know that another wave was on the way. Only a few entries in, did I learn I was pregnant. Perplexed and feeling a bit alone I felt even more lost than usual, but I managed to pull through.

Had 2 babies different dudes
And for them both my luv was true
This is my last interview, oooh
Hey there's me, ooh
This year I turned 36
Damn it seems it came so quick
My ass and legs have gotten thick yea
Its all me

Two years later, that second wave of change did occur. I'm in new territory. I became a single mother of one. Though it's been an internal battle, I'm a stay-at-home mother. Yet, I use my time wisely as I continue to write, consult and pitch freelance ideas or work on projects. I'm inching closer to 30. I'm definitely not 21 anymore, but a young and vibrant spirit won't die in me. My love for music fuels my fire or my hunger to be in the underground spot with the complex DJ venting through his mixes; where the gathering is all about the music. I'm a city girl who will get restless in the suburbs aka the fake city. I crave and live in the urban.

I use to pray to God above
But now Im filled with so much luv
But even if the world cant see
Its still me
Will I escape this vanity?
Or will I keep on smoking trees?
But I'll just let it go and be, be, be Me

Over the last year or so I've noticed how my friend/relationships have changed. I've gained new people. Lost a couple. Some friend/relationships may have become enhanced while others stayed the same or slid back to neutral. There were various reasons for each change in the dynamic, and I can guess that my growth may have affected each one in it's own way. The old me still lingers as it wants to dwell in the past to do its usual of analyzing the situation. Yet, the new me fights to keep moving. The new me seems to always win. However, each person that has come across my path does hold a special place in my heart; friend or foe.

The new me is "mommy conscience" as I take in who or what is and isn't mommy friendly. The old me still speaks to me when I contemplate on what to wear; heels a fashionable outfit and diaper bag. The new me gets scared when she sees her daughter crying and wanting relief from her eczema breakout. The old me comes through to make me act silly to make the Snickerdoodle smile. The new me realizes that dating isn't just for fun anymore. The new me embraces the thought of having a life long companion while being open to marriage.

The old me is my reminder of where I once was.

The new me is my light to help me see where I am going.

The old and new have merged, but for the greater good.

I still love God, Langston Hughes, Lynchburg Lemonades and girlie martinis, chocolate, the Tiffany & Co. Blue Hue, sex, falling in love, walking in the rain, watching Homer make an ass of himself, being in the midst of city foot traffic, being and feeling feminine, making my own way, brightening a stranger's day, making people feel special, picking the underdog, seeing things in a different light.

I'm learning and have developed a love for home decorating, tending to my daughter's ever changing needs and watching her grow, being domestic, and everything that will follow.

Physically I may have gained a few inches; slight buxom spillage, rounder tummy, slightly thicker thighs, but it's me.

As each day passes, I've been loving me a bit more.

I'm still imperfect yet it's me.

It's all me.

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The Sex Was Good

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Sat, 31 May 2008 08:39:13 -0400

Sex and the City

I, like a million other faithful fans, couldn't wait another minute. The looming threat of sold out seats didn't stop me. I took part in the madness of it all. From watching the interviews leading up to this past Tuesday's New York premier, the red carpet event in New York at Radio City Music Hall and last night's release.

I saw and loved every girly, emotional, funny, cynical and perhaps predictable minute of Sex and The City.

What I find ironic is that the movie enforced or further caused me to explore some of my thoughts and feelings on marriage - which I summarized yesterday. Also, instead of only identifying with Carrie, as I had with the show, I saw a little bit of myself in all the "girls" this time, but more so in the new character played by Jennifer Hudson.

I saw my old numb self in Carrie as she feels jilted and back to square one with Big.

I saw my old bitter self in Miranda as she struggles with being over worked on all levels, in a rut and feeling disrespected by her husband.

I see my current self in Samantha as she finds herself having an internal battle of wondering where did the old Samantha go. She definitely feels as if she has lost herself behind a man.

I see my current self in Charlotte as she basically is being blessed with everything she could have ever want, but is terrified that something bad may happen because things are going so well.

I see my current self in Louise (Jennifer Hudson) as she has a new lease on life - via moving to New York - was broken hearted but is open to love and very optimistic!

Definitely, these ladies are a lot older on and off the screen. The writing and their acting reflected such in the movie. However, the movie still stayed true to form of the show with the growth and maturity that the ladies have done on and off the show in the past four years.

Sarah J. Parker & Jennifer Hudson: Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage.com

As for Jennifer Hudson, she was beautiful in this film. She just glowed. I really loved the hair! What I really want is the dress she wore on the "Pink" Carpet during the New York premier.

Note to self: got to look up the designer to check, crack a face and cry at the price.

What better way to spend a Friday evening with a few buds to laugh, cry and vent together.

A typical girls night out right? Just add in the good sex and you got yourself a good evening.

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Diamond Girls

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Fri, 30 May 2008 15:02:48 -0400

"I can be ya wake up reason daily
You can be my first and leading lady
I'ma make you happy that you waited
For me to settle down (oh oh)

I'm ready and I'm not afraid to say it
I'm tired of the game, already played it
I'm over all the other girls I dated
I tell you what you are

You're my diamond girl
You're the one I put the rock on
You're my diamond girl
You're the one that I quit the game for"

- Ryan Leslie, "Diamond Girl"

It's wedding season. I feel it, see it and hear it.

As mentioned in the previous entry LAF and Erin are both engaged. Even Suga Mama is getting into the scene with visions she is having, but her thoughts are more of a shock value right now than anything.

I just got off the phone with Suga Mama and of course we touched on the marriage subject. I was ready to be her listening ear until she turned the tables on me and my current thoughts and feelings. I feel like a broken a record in many ways discussing my thoughts on marriage. Nothing much as changed since I last thought, wrote or spoke about it. I'm still pretty ambivalent.

Do I or don't I?

What has changed is that I do give it a bit more thought anytime the subject arises. As I told Suga Mama a few minutes ago, I wouldn't mind being married. I can see myself as somebody's wife, but my thinking right now is (and may forever be) is there something more? If anyone who reads my writings, it's pretty clear and bluntly stated I don't like to settle for ANYTHING in my life. I just may have "is-the-grass-always-greener" syndrome. Yes, I may have had some half assed choices in men in the past, but I would like to think of them as lessons and even THANK them for both the good and bad they brought to the table. With each experience I've had thus far, I feel as if I can further determine what is needed in my life, what I want and what is totally unacceptable.

Yesterday I was cleaning one of my inboxes. I came across a two month old email that contained a link to a clip from Oprah, in which she had a special show called "America Talks to Oprah." The segment explored reasons why the reported fact, 70% of African-American women are single, is so. A 26 year old woman gave her analysis based on her observations with the main or a heavy reason being that many of her fellow Black women are waiting for what ever Black man of their dreams to live out the strong Black family unit. True, some of us are open to dating outside of our race, but when it comes down to it many (including the ones that date outside of the race) still want the image, value and tradition of a "strong Black family."

Of course Oprah chimed in with a sobering fact that those who are waiting for that certain Black man will still be waiting, because the numbers are off. Like Oprah, I don't know the stats, but it is a known fact that Black women out number Black men, especially in my age group. I easily saw that during my years at Howard as my classes, my work place and noticing the city a bit more, that the majority roaming around were Black women.

The Usual

As Oprah pointed out, it's like there's a certain cut of meat that everyone wants, but the reality is it's not available. I understand fully that my life will not be a fairytale that I've planned in my head. Honestly, I never had a vision of the perfect man or the man of my dreams. My "dream man" is sort of being pieced as I live my daily life and experience life.

If I were to have my way today and live out a married life I would included the following:

- my father's street/military stance: as far as an immediate instinct to protect the family and being the lead.

- being willing to have a continuous walk with God. To grow in all aspects in the life and light of faith. Being able to grow right along with me spiritually

- have a sense humor and not to take life too seriously.

- have respect and unconditional love for my daughter as if she were his own.

- have an adventurous spirit.

- have a conversation that is both intellectual and silly

- knowing his own heart and have some kind of ambition in life. Have some kind of drive in life.

I don't think this is too much to ask. My heart is open, I just hope my eyes are. Still, I'm in no rush to jump the broom or for anyone to proclaim me as their "Diamond Girl." I have things I have to work on from my end, before I become anyone's wife. Right now, I'm just on cruise control in the love department as Papi and I ... how did Suga Mama put it.... "enhance" our friendship.

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A Funny Thing Happened While...

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Tue, 06 May 2008 01:12:05 -0400

Kimora and daughters fashion week 2008

1. Viewing Kimora Lee Simmons' reality show.

I cried.

Last night's (Sunday) episode was a part two to Kimora and her production team staging the Phat Fashions fashion show for New York's Annual Fashion Week. A segment of the show features Kimora giving her oldest daughter, Ming Lee, a pep talk about her hair. Ming Lee, 8, was about to take part in a rite of passage that all little girls of color (or perhaps any girl) goes through at some point. In prepping for the fashion show, Ming Lee's hair was about to be "blown out" or straightened via the blow dryer. Kimora's pep talk was more of handing out "the law" in how to keep up with such a hair style, plus bumping up Ming Lee's chores around the house - to washing dishes.

After a kiss to seal the hair and chores deal, and Kimora's daughters asking her how old was she when her hair was blown out - to which Kimora responded "at the age of 13 when I was hitting the runways in Paris" - an emotional mommy began to break down and cry. Ironically, I was crying right along with Kimora as she (maybe with a little bit of dramatic overtones) talked through tears of how her babies are growing up before her eyes and it was all too much for her.

I thought about my own daughter. How she is a little over 13 months now. I look at her now and compare pictures I took of her last year when she was a few weeks old. She's definately older. She has her own personality. She is starting her journey of becoming her own unique spirit. I'm anxious, scared and happy at the same time to the different rites of passage she will go through - menstrual cycle, first bra, allowed to have boys call her, wearing stockings, wearing high heels, makeup and of course hair permed/straightened.

I was roughly 12 when my hair was processed. My mother was furious. At the time I didn't understand what the big deal was. I just knew I was tired of the hot comb. I had enough war wounds (hot comb scars) behind my ears to plead my case. My grandmother agreed and "ordered" it done. Aunt P, who worked as a beautician at the time, commenced with the order. PCJ (as it was/is called) or Pressing Comb in a Jar did the trick. Funny thing is, all those years I spent with processed hair, I finally let the chemicals go. It's been eight or nine years as I've returned to my "au natural" roots (which do need some professional work here and there), and began a regime of washing my hair every two weeks and either letting it air dry into a bush or finding the patience of pressing my own hair with the hot comb - only to make it managable to comb and not bone straight.

However, back to Kimora....

It was at that moment of her "breakdown" that I truly gained respect for Kimora as a business woman but more importantly as a mother. Though she is demanding and a bit of a diva with her over the top ways, the love she has for her daughters is not for show for the Style Network cameras. It's real. In all that she does, she always makes it a point that no matter what, when her babies need her she is there.

I can only hope that I am doing just the same for my own daughter. I'm always careful to continue to let my passion for writing and all that I want to do drive me, but making sure it doesn't leave my daughter in the dust somewhere. Whatever I achieve in life I want it to be for us - God, my daughter and myself.

Certain Girls: A Novel

Jennifer Weiner

2. Reading Certain Girls

Since I began reading Jennier Weiner's latest novel, I've been happily entralled in Cannie Shapiro's world again AND her daughter, Joy. Ironically, I laugh when I read Joy's thoughts, because like any adolescent in this world what "tween" doesn't think their mother is a little "off." As I've been reading I have noticed that I see myself in both Cannie and Joy this time. Joy represents my "ugly" teen years, but she also represents something new in my life... yes my Snickerdoodle. Though Cannie is a little older than me in this book (she's in her 40's where as in Good In Bed she was right on the bullseye as my current age - late twenties) I still related to her on some level as she flashes back to her twenties to relive some horrid "single mom/writer" moments.

What's funny here.. in keeping with the theme of rite of passages...Joy is obviously about to go through one with her bat mitzvah on the horizon. However, as I keep reading it seems that her rite of passage is coming in another form as well..learning the real truth of how she came to be and beginning to understand her mother's intentions, ways, persona...etc.

Part of Cannie's past deals with a book she wrote that was based on her life. However, she fictionalized it with a hyper/over sexed heroine as she told a tale of how she over came some of her issues with the men in her life; a father that didn't want her and a boyfriend that was a pile of....shit. Not to mention a mother that eventually admitted that she was a lesbian. Naturally Joy ends up reading the book and at the moment is seeking answers, on her own, about her mom and dad's relationship and her existence.

When I initally started blogging (in 2002) and decided that what I wrote would eventually end up in a manuscript or book form, a lot of it did sound like a broken record. That was because it was during the time when I was in my depression and part of my solace or my comfort zone at the time was through sex. As I began to put the pages together, I didn't like what I saw. Granted it was my truth. That shit hurt. Still, I always worried about who would eventually read my truth if in fact it did get as far as being published. Who would it help? Who would it hurt?

My manuscript has been changed so many times because

1) I'm never going to be happy with it until my brain can finally say "STOP!" That's just the writer perfectionist in me.

2) Though I did fictionalized it, those who are close to me will know it's about me. So what will my mother think, especially in some of the mother vs. daughter scenes?

3) Since becoming a mother, I now feel it's my duty to use it (or perhaps anything I write) as a tool to teach my daughter a (few) lessons in life.. for when she is older and is able to comprehend what I went through.

In reading about Cannie and Joy, it's also bringing up a couple of the same issues I had.. umm HAVE... with my mom.... the over protectiveness and the broken communication line. Where I am currently in the story I do feel as if the crap is about to hit the fan. I'm just anxious to read about it and see where the two Shapiro ladies will go from there.

Another rite of passage...being able to face your truths, the whole truths so help you God.

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1998 - 2008

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Sat, 03 May 2008 02:12:46 -0400

IMGP0426

Ten years ago this year I graduated from high school.

My next door neighbor "K" is a senior at my alma mata. Ironically her aunt is the music/choir instructor there - thanks in part to my mom who told her about the opening during my freshman year when the janky instructor at the time was being a bit of a scatter brain.

Lately I've been taking a special notice in K. It's hard to believe she is the same "girl" who would stick up under her aunt during our choir rehearsals. This is same chic that would get a kick out of my father's antics and would bring him a small token back from her family vacation. In a way I've unspokenly called her my little sis, especially since her schooling sorta followed in my foot steps. Aside from high school, she also attended the same elementary/jr high I attended.

Nevertheless, I've taken some joy or delight in watching K grow up before my eyes. I've figured this must be what it felt like for my long time neighbors to watch me grow in front of them. Proud and filled with a sense of pride. I'm even more excited for K as prom time is coming up. By my calculations (and if the school still runs on the same "graduation schedule") prom should either be this weekend or next. Graduation should be three weeks away.

In silently traveling the senior year journey with K, I can't help but to revisit some of my own feelings about my high school experience, especially as my class reunion is set for July. A couple of inquires have been sent to me via email or MySpace asking if I will be in attendance. I answered an old friend back via MySpace by telling her that most likely not. I hope to be doing some traveling around that time. Another old friend, who I was close with back then and reconnected with via the internet, is a part of the committee. She's been keeping me informed of what's what - not to mention the postcard mailer and the reunion package sent to my house. Then just the other day, a third friend sent me an email asking would I be there. I haven't responded.

My feelings about high school are very indifferent. Yes, there are a few people I would love to see again - mainly the few folks that survived high school with me. However, I really didn't like high school. It was a Catholic institution with a diverse group of students but majority Black. We were probably considered the most (or perhaps one of the) ghetto schools in the Archdiocese. I say that in light of some of the "upper crust Catholic schools" I battled with on the tennis court during my time on the varsity tennis team. A lot of us (students) came from a decent background or home life and yet I still didn't like the school. For a while I use to think it was because of the people in the school. Something about everyone urk'd my very nature. I use to think "this one" was too childish or "that one" was spoiled beyond belief. I hated the cliques that presented itself during freshman and sophomore year and believe me by junior year I found myself shaking my head at a lot of dissovled friendships.

No. I wasn't any kind of outcast or some reject that everyone ignored. No, I wasn't popular, but I had friends and I got along with most. I stayed quite, only trusting a couple, and even then I wasn't all that telling. I was active in choir, tennis and was delighted when I did the photography class and helped out with the year book. Being an aspiring writer, I even helped to come up with something (a passage) to be painted on the school's shed (it's a senior tradition to paint the shed reflecting the school and class spirit of the current senior class)

Still I couldn't stomach high school. I now realize I was expriencing a (perhaps) pre mature growing pain... or maybe not. I blame my Aquarius nature - the wise beyond years "fluff" - because I was soooooooo ready to move on to the next phase of my life. By then I was working part-time in the federal government and I was looking forward to college..more so the (so-called) going away part of college. High school, though it had its excitement, bored me and frustrated me. Also, I was partially "home-sick," meaning I was missing my "REAL" classmates that I had literally grown up with from Pre-k to 8th grade and desperately tried to stay in contact with. I managed to hold onto one, who after to all these years she still calls me her best friend and I do the same - even in our time of open space as we grew into adulthood.

It was eneivitable. I was growing up. No turning back.

By my senior year I was in my own world. I still managed to function in school, but slightly talking less to my friends, which prompted some of them to wonder what was up with me and even lightly tease me for being so... "aloof."

After the research paper, finals, prom and graduation I was rid of "them." The class of 1998.

Every once in a while I would bump into someone. On my college campus. At my old OBGYN. At a grocery store. At Ben's Chilli Bowl @ 4 am after a night of clubbing. At the club. Online. On the subway train to work. At the mall.

Then MySpace happened.

(Curse Tom for creating such a daft site)

I won't lie. I was curious to know who turned out to be what and doing what close to ten years later. I sent a couple of request. Virtually befriended some. Some sent a request to me. Perhaps a few I was shocked that they remembered me. I approved their request. Then some time later I began to get a funny feeling. It was almost as if I were back in high school again. However, that feeling wasn't just contained to my old classmates, it was really for the whole site.

Then 2008 rolled in with announcements on the reunion.

When the talks first developed about the reunion, for a minute (just a minute) I contemplated on my attendance. Would I really care to see these folks again? In all honesty, no. Other than the couple of friendships from high school that managed to maintain after, I have no connection to my old classmates.

I feel "aloof" again as the excitement around the reunion builds.

I'm sure it will be a swell time for those involved, but I wish to do other things.

High school is so past tense in my book.

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Confessions of a Stationary Magazine Book Whore

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 22:48:23 -0400

Forgive me "father" for I have sinned it has been several days, maybe weeks, since my last confession.

I've been on a slight mission ever since I purchased a dress a week or so ago.

My mission...finding the perfect black patent leather clutch purse.

After my free oil change (thank you Mazda), I ended up at Target today and was very disappointed in their selection. Really... how hard can it be to find a nice black patent leather clutch bag without big silly bows? I know I'm a child of the 80s but DAMN!

COOOOOME OOOOOON!

I steered the cart away from that department, picked up a few items for the Snickerdoodle and landed in heaven.

My eyes lit up when I saw the stationary/card section.

Greeting Card Whore

Okay, I don't know what it is about me and greeting cards or stationary exactly. I don't even know when this addiction started. I have a fetish for pretty paper thingys. I literally have a collection of greeting cards that I have not given to anyone, because they are too pretty to give to just anyone.

Hey some people collect stamps.

Me....

I'm a pretty paper person.

I did manage to pick up a couple of Mother's Day cards that I will be giving to my mother and grandmother. I still have May birthday cards to pick up. oye!

Eventually the cards I have in my collection will go to someone... well.. I'm not too sure about the card with the glamour high heel (as pictured above). I simply adore that one. So if anyone gets it, they better damn sure appreciate it.

Anywho....

Needless to say, I caved to my greeting card addiction right there in the middle of Target. To hell with the clutch purse...for now.

On to Barnes & Noble.

My original mission with B&N was to pick up the May issue of Allure Magazine (I actually got the last copy! Did everyone know this was the annual "naked" issue?)

Again, I was in heaven.

1. I was in a freaking bookstore. I miss buying a book or two.

2. B&N has just about any pop culture and sub pop culture magazine you can think of. I'm a straight up glossy, airbrush, feature writing, artistic photography, quirky article, inspirational and motivational, 1,000 word count..... WHORE!

Today's Picks from the Newsstand aka Barnes & Noble (4/29/08)

Along with Allure, I picked up two of my favs.

Black Book and Fader (oh I missed reading Fader!)

I also picked up the 2008 edition of Writer's Market! Oh how I NEED this as I scope out who to query for freelance projects and even further my search for a literary agent!

(Big Score for me!)

Also, I could not resist another Jennifer Weiner book.

Gnb cover

OK! Stop! Hold it! The last book by Weiner that I actually own, read and loved was her first, Good In Bed. I could relate to that book on so many levels - and probably even more so now. Ironically I thought about that book last night. I had the urge to re-read it, but my butt was too lazy to get out of bed to hunt for it in my maze of boxes and such thanks to renovation inconvenience. I never got around to reading In Her Shoes, which I'm mad at myself for - since I wanted to read the book before seeing the movie. I didn't bother picking up Little Earthquakes, because after reading the synopsis I wasn't interested. However, today I just couldn't refuse her latest, Certain Girls. The story picks up where Good in Bed left off. So yes... if you are a Jennifer Weiner reader... Cannie Shapiro is back!

With nothing much more to say I would like to be excused now from today's confession. I'm eager to do some self assigned homework in drumming up some ideas, reading a chapter or two in The Purpose Driven Life and skim through my magazines while drinking some ice tea and wiggling my toes under my covers.

If there shall be a penance for my addictive ways let it be the Snickerdoodle refusing to sleep unless she curls up with me. I can handle that.

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Confessions On The Baltimore/Washington Parkway

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 03:28:48 -0400

Looking @ U Through Patient Eyes

*Ironic I wanted to make this a confessional in light of The Pope being in town*

Field trip day for me and the Snickerdoodle.

Where?

Columbia, MD to hunt for bargains at Columbia Mall (Town Center)

By the way.. I get the feeling that town centers are the new malls like pink is the new black.

Aside from the Snickerdoodle racking up on spring/pre-summer wardrobe - thanks to sales at Macy's and JC Penny's (looove their Penny's children's department) - I did some heavy thinking on the way there.

For the past few days I've been wrestling with a thought.. or thoughts. I finally broke down and did some "girl talking" with Nisha - my bud/business partner in Miami. It helped a little, because I was finally able to verbalize my "confusion."

The deal?

I've been going back and forth in head about my future as far as a relationship goes and just dating period.

*deep breath*

It started a week or so ago. I started to have the usual bored feelings I get when I'm seeing someone - hence how I ended up with my epiphany last week. Things with Papi are moving along, but I can't help but wonder if this is it? I'm already comfortable and I don't feel like being bothered with the dating world. Yet, part of me is wondering if there is something better. I'm beginning to believe this is me; this is how I operate when it comes to anything in life. I always have to ask "Is there anything better?" I think a lot of that has to do with my feelings about "settling." I don't like to just "settle" on anything or for anyone.

Then there was the dream I had a few nights ago. The dream included my mother proclaiming she didn't like Papi after looking at his hands. His cuticles were rough and skin was ashy. Eventually I left my mother and Papi talking to each other as I stepped outside and ended up at some festival. Mr. S was also in the dream in which he came running after me, but I snapped (in a way) and told him that "I couldn't do this anymore." I'm leaving a lot of the details of the dream out because what baffled me the most were those key moments. I haven't spoken with Mr. S since October and I pretty much scrapped the idea of anything between us, especially as things move right along with Papi. Yet, I still can't shake Mr. S.

To make things clear, Mr.S and I never had anything going. We talked about it and perhaps flirted with the idea, but he kept pulling away answering to the call of his work and traveling all the time. Meanwhile, I was having emotional flashbacks of past experiences that was similar to our situation. So in the dream it was really no big shock that I came across as mean towards him. Yet he kept running after me.

In reality it's Papi who has been pursuing me and making time for me. Whereas, Mr. S ACTS or acted rather...as if he is interested in something more only to do opposite actions. It's pretty much a no brainer here, but I wish my subconscious would let it go. As for my mother not liking Papi in the dream just by looking at his hands, I'm not sure what that is about. If I remember and understand correctly, hands in dreams deal with responsibility. So maybe by his hands being rough and ashy he isn't owning up to something?

I have to look into the interpretation a bit more.

Eventually all of that led to thoughts about dating as a single parent in general.

Being a mother is a honor and blessing in itself. However, being a SINGLE mother is a bit scary. Being a SINGLE mother of a DAUGHTER is scarier. I verbalized this to Nisha and added that I don't want to be the naive mother you hear on the news whose boyfriend or new husband got to her child.

Nisha was quick to silence me in assuring me that I have enough God given sense to not attract such an element. Though I knew Nisha was right, all my brain saw were flashbacks of close friends of mine who were molested by their step fathers. What hurt them, hurt me. What hurt the most was realizing their mothers - who I had respect for and knew they had all of their God given senses in tact - turned a blind eye. They either were in deep denial because they were too in love with the man or just honestly didn't know. Again, I know that Nisha was right and I know myself; that I would not attract such an element, but still I wonder if this is every single mother's fear for her child(ren) or is it just me. After all, molesters/predators come in all cloths.

That's what scares me about dating. I can't just let any man interact with my daughter let alone come close to her. With Papi I do have some sense of trust. Mainly because he has two (quasi-former) stepsons (his ex-wife's children) whose lives he is still involved in. Based on the stories he and his sister shares about the boys, it's pretty clear that Papi does have some parenting sense. When it comes to the Snickerdoodle, Papi has only interacted with her a few times and was when she was a few months old.

So yes.. right now I feel comfortable.. but still wondering... is this it?

Curse this restless spirit of mine.

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Jay-Z Knows My Addiction

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 16:18:09 -0400

I have a new addiction.

I did have this well thought out and perhaps long entry I wanted to spew about it, but lately my attention span is that of a child hopped up on a sugar rush.

I gotta keep moving.

Only thing I can say at this point is... I totally feel Jay-Z's lyrics to his "I Know"

What's been going on..what I've been pondering on writing about are some realizations that has been brought to my attention.

It's nothing bad, but more so of me facing some fears of mine about being in a (possible) relationship.

From hanging out with my girls over the weekend, to having dinner with Papi last night, to speaking with Brandon earlier today about his relationship and even some of my fears - it's been interesting to all these perspectives come together making me ask myself;

Self, where do we go from here?

Needless to say.. with my new "addiction" I can't help wonder if it's all just a pure lust, a hidden relapse into the old me of finding solace in the wrong place or is this something materializing into something more genuine? Is this something working on both ends in which a divine master plan is involved?

As I sit and marinate on these thoughts... I'll just keep Jay-Z on repeat for a while.

*Note about the song: While I see two possible meanings to the song- 1.) Jay talking from the point of view of a drug to a drug addict 2) Jay taking a spin and speaking about love and making himself a drug to the so-called "addict." I'm taking the second meaning in regards to my situation.

Jay-Z I know official Music Video

I Know
By: Jay-Z
Album: American Gangsta

And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
I know what you like
Everything you love
I know what you like
Everything you love
And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
And I Know And I Know
I know what you like ....HOV
Baby you love ....HOV
Baby you love ....HOV
Baby you like ....HOV

Uh-
She wants that old thing back
Uh- uh- uh-
She want those Heroin tracks
She likes me
She fiends for me nightly
She leans for me
Morning she rush for my touch
This is about LUST
Cold sweats occur when I'm not with her
My presence is a must- must- must-
Bonita Applebum, i gotta put you on
If i didn't when we cuttin' the feeling would be too strong
In any form, I'm giving you sweet dreams
That Sugar Hill, she call me her sweet thing
That Black Rain that take away your pain
Just for one night, baby, take me in vein
Now that feelin' got you trippin'
You no wanna feel no differently
Said lust has got you itchin'
Nose wide open and its' drippin' -eh -eh -eh -eh
I know what you like, i am your prescription
I'm your physician, I'm your addiction

I am so DOPE
Like Louboutins with the red bottoms
You gotta have 'em, you glad you got 'em
Like every color Giuseppe's, your guilty pleasure is me
Its so much fun, you shun therapy
Although it never be, the feeling is fleeting
Shopping's like coppin', you constantly need it
I'm never around, you constantly seek it
You'll never be down, i know where your peak is
9 1/2 weeks is better than 12-steps
I keep tryin' to remind you to keep tellin' yourself
Now your conscience is interfering, like "Better yourself!"
Like you better get help
But when that medicine's felt?
We're back together
Don't ever leave me
Don't ever let 'em tell you that you'll never need me
My China White, 'til we D.O.A.
Its Montego forever, baby, lets get away....

How could you leave me?
I thought that you needed me!
When the world got too much and you pleaded with me--
Who helped you immediately?
How speedy of me!
How could you deny me so vehemently?
Now your body is shakin' trying to free it of me
And your soul is in control, trying to lead it from me
And your heart no longer pledge allegiance to me
Damn, I'm missing the days when you needed the D

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Tip Toe Through the Orchids

nobody@vox.com(Mahoganie) — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 21:01:57 -0400

Orchid Exhibit @ US Botanical Garden

After a quick run to Bethesda, MD, the Snickerdoodle and I skipped back into town and caught the current exhibit of orchids at the U.S. Botanic Garden. Originally I was going to save this for a sunny spring (like) day, but I figured we could do it today. I didn't feel like being in the house and I'm sure neither did she. She was giddy getting up this morning, eating her breakfast, taking her bath and getting dressed. Screw our internal clocks that are still pretty much jacked up from the early time change.

Needless to say it's going a little after 8:30 pm and the Snickerdoodle is in her bed - ZONK'D.

Luckly me to have found an available two hour meter near the building. I guess today was our day for an outing afterall.

For today's entry, I'm sharing some of the photos I took as the Snickerdoodle and I - more so me - oogled at the orchids. If anyone can tell that knows or doesn't know me well enough... Orchids are my absolute favorite flower. Any kind party/function I have MUST have orchids.

Yes.. I'm making it mandatory.

I still have a few more photos to load onto Flickr, but really I don't have the patience for all of that right now.

If anyone is catching this post via Google, surfing, etc and you are a resident of the DC area or planning to visit, I urge that you check out this beautifully exquisite exhibit. It is indeed an annual affair, so if you miss it this year don't fret. For more details check out the US Bostanic Garden website.

Well enough chatter....enjoy.

An Alphabet Garden of Orchids

Orchids are a BIG Business

The outside garden isn't in "season" or in bloom yet. However I'm so captivated by the Butterfly benches inside the outside garden. Again.. butterflies are one of my favorite "things." (just check out my tattoo - if you're lucky) I love what they symbolize. Looking at this bench actually reminds me of the nearby garden kept by the Smithsonian. I will have to get the fame a bit later. A few years back I did a photo journalism project for a journalism course in school. I went to this particular garden by the Smithsonian and captured a few shots of Swan Benches. When I get the energy I shall share my picture portfolio of that particular garden.

Barely There

Well... This is Mahoganie..

Signing off for the evening.

Until next entry.

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