It's Hard to Say Goodbye

Love Letters to the AM.

They have been kicking my ass for the past weeks; no stress though, I'm a born fighter. Nevertheless, this morning I felt it-the pain, the horrible regulation of my eating habits, and sleepless nights wondering when they were coming again. Them, they it, school, work, technology- and everything else that may come between; but like I said, I am a born fighter. Therefore I "suck it up," keep it moving, listen to my soothing music, try to take baths instead of showers (when time permits), indulge in a glass of wine, and speak to God more.

I think it is working most days... but the end is near and my body knows that it will soon be able to rest, and I think it may be disappointed at the possibility of my future pleasure.

Hands unknowingly writing love letters to 3 am, if we ever meet again on these terms, I need you to know, I... well I really don't know how to say it, but I, I love you. Come hither soon, push those buttons, hold my eyes open; know that I am waiting, because without you I would have peace.

Religious, Maybe?

Religious, Maybe? (Am I Really Single # 2)

I never knew he was the religious type, until he told the people at the bar I was his lady. Speaking what is not, as if it were...

Last conversation we had, I minimized us to lust. Told him, sexy, intelligent, spiritual and all, I'm good. You cannot give me what I want. My conclusion was cool though, I have a lot on my plate, entertaining a male companion is not in my schedule... not yet at least.

Even with no desire to "have" him, he was looking quite pleasing to my eyes last night. I tried to do the head nod and keep it moving; but, he wasn't having that. Grabbed my arm, pulled me in-- for a hug. (Yeah he's grabbing again...no kiss this time-he's learning, even if it is at his own pace.) Hugs, are cool, I'm a hugger. Anything beyond that with no "true attachment" to you, is a problem. But I guess I didn't make a big enough fuss last go 'round with this cat.

Or maybe I did, time passed, I had a few drinks and I made my way to and almost from the ladies room without an incident. That was, until someone tried to holla... twice. He was "Watching" me, and he definitely wasn't having that. So to mark territory that he never marked, he approached this man, and simply said, I guess you didn't get the picture... this is my lady!

So of course the questions I asked myself when evaluating my single state resurfaced. What have I said or done to give him the impression that it's cool to claim me? I chucked it up to religion-- he must know his Word.

A Minute (Editorial Style Edition)

I did not mind the ring; especially since I was reduced to eye contact. I could not touch, I could not taste, but I could look. And I knew it had been far too long since I’ve seen someone worth staring at, so I allowed my eyes to summarize his physique, gave my thoughts space to wonder and simply licked my lips. Slowly.

His returned look was pleasant; warm and righteous, even if but for a minute. He wanted to know me. Remembered his vows, but he wanted to recite them to me just to see if after all these years he would smile the same way at me. Me, his wife that he never met or married but dreamed of understanding— the curves, moist spots, imperfections and thought process. He wanted to live in my thoughts, and I wanted to live in his, slowly. Even if only but for a minute.

Chewing the Feet Off

Yet another "exhaling moment" about the state of Black America. (Applies to all races, but hits home for me)


I thought I knew disappointment. When my mother took a break from buying me my barbies, because I would chew the feet off, I was disappointed. Once she began to buy them again, and coined them as "collector's items" I was disappointed. I had more growing to do before I could appreciate her "investment."

Now, at a stage where I am taking on my own responsibilities and am no longer chewing the feet off of my barbies, I still experience disappointment. Yes within my life at times, but that is not the point of this blog. I am sadden with the state of females today. The young ones, the mother's who raised them, and the mother's who raised them.


I see generations go in and out of the office seeking assistance for one to eight children (sometimes more) and themselves. With at times an educational level that hasn't passed the 9th, or even worse, the mother has completed the 11th grade. One more year to go. Pop the baby/babies out, apply for assistance, and never go back to school.


Policy states one particular person, cannot receive any form (financial or food supplement/stamps) assistance for more than 60 months (5 years) and in this 5 years you should be able to get your act together and provide for self and child/children. 5 years! Are you serious?? I have never been the one to like a "hand-out" but I do realize help is needed at some point; but at what time do we say enough is enough, let me teach you to fish.


Then I'll have the customers who come in, yelling, "What am I supposed to do, I can't feed my kids!" Every bit of me wants to say, Do the same thing I'm doing... Work! But I can't so I silence my actual thoughts because they may find their way out... and try to help them feed their kids.


Summary:


I am in no way discrediting all, but many that I come across in my line of work cause me to carry a burden. One that I am not built to bear, nor would I like to, but as a passionate person I am not able to turn my emotions off and on simply because I don't know the person on an intimate level. I care for them and what they represent, that, being me, and am left disappointed and wanting more.


*(Not disclosing my exact job title intentionally)

Three Hours

Going off of three hours of sleep, and trying not to lose a beat.

With work, school, personal projects and leisure time, I find myself quite exhausted. "Everyone" says, you can sleep when you die; but I think I would at least like to be well rested enough now, to enjoy my today. But when can I sleep? Will I ever get eight hours in, and truly feel refreshed?

Where did my naps go? I use to be able to take a nap a day, but now, I'm lucky if I get a nap every two weeks.

After work the other day, I wanted to get a manicure, and a pedicure. For whatever reason I decided to come home... and take a shower... and, without being planned, quite the shower, I took a nap. Passed out on my bed, still dripping slightly, with a towel covering me.

Tired doesn't begin to explain what I was experiencing. And I have the nerve to want a second job! But money talks right, and bills have the potential to go to collections if you don't pay them... So, I guess for now, I'll take three hours of sleep opposed to none, and push forward in the A.M.!

A Father's Love

So I finally watched the movie Taken!

I loved it; the passion, the intensity, the calculated but careless violence. I loved it all. This movie shows the lengths a father is willing to go to save the life of his child.

A definite must see.

Trailer:

http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi3488219417/

"Best Scene:" As coined on a search:

Tested Twice

When did the black youth and adults forget we have something to prove?



Not just to their counterparts, some of which may still not see them as equal, but to themselves.

In the face of death and ridicule the Tuskegee Airman not only excelled but made history in the process.



The racism was not over the top in the movie; in fact, it was watered down. Major Joy (Christopher McDonald) decided that because these black men did exceptionally well on their entrance exam, something had to be wrong. There had to be a fluke. So he requested they be tested again. Second round scores, all 94 and above if I'm not mistaken, with many scores of 100. These men did not complain, and say oh, we already took the test... they simply blew it out of the water- a second time.


Now some members of the black race no longer care to challenge themselves.

They are sadly content.

I Won't Own You! (Editorial Style Edition)

Ingrained in most men is the desire to be providers and protectors. When a woman takes this from a man, even in a brief moment, the equilibrium of the universe is thrown off. Men begin to wonder, am I a really a man? Quite like the lions and tigers in the zoo, they get confused because they are forced into an “environment” that they (men, lions, and tigers) are not use to.

But indeed, as years have gone and come, times have also changed. It is no longer a statement of independence, but one women recognize as not being indebted to anyone. Although many men and woman look at the dating process as an investment, there are some who can only identify giving with receiving. Thus, protective nature is created for both men and women.

It wasn’t until out on a date with a potential, that I found out I was slowly falling into an independent role, as well as one that didn’t want to owe anyone. So as I offered to pay for the movies, he looked perplexed and said “it's twenty dollars, I won’t own you.”

"We Pray For Things Like This"

I cannot remember the exact television episode or even the show, but the words are stuck in my ear. We Pray for Things Like This. This, being the ironic murder of a man in the Guinness Book of World Records Museum.

The manager at the location asked if the body could stay, or if he could at least take pictures before they moved the body. Not thrown off by the question alone, but also the sincerity of it; the detective just looked at him, in silence then continued to do his job.

We Pray for Things Like This. Yes, he clearly said these words. Didn't not take the time to pull the detective aside, or even whisper. He was not ashamed.

This statement caused my mind to run. Are we praying-discreetly, or unashamed for a come up even if it may be at the cost of bringing someone down. Although I know this is just tv, I also understand that everything we see on tv, is a reflection of true life, somewhere.

And, we continue to pray for things like this, forgetting that prayers, thoughts, and even scripts can transfer into real life.

Workability of Website

When asking people to review my website www.justsea.wordpress.com to determine the workability of it, I was quite nervous. I was asking for honesty, but still hoping that the feedback was positive, which it was (mostly ; )

The ease of WordPress allowed me to input the pages and content I wanted on the pages. After which a navigation bar was created, for both the top and the bottom of the home page. Therefore I received a lot of good feedback on the accessibility of the website. You read the link, you clicked the page, and wala (if that's how you spell it, and if that is a word).

Although navigating the site was easy, everything wasn't known. For an example, on the Poem Page, visitors did not know that they could click a picture to enlarge, and also to get an individual poem on a page by itself. It was more like a "hidden treasure" along the way. With this in mind, I will create one line to simply state this. Something like Click a picture, read a poem. Or something to that affect. People also asked me what the small picture was next to the Just S.E.A. on the first page, so increasing size there could be beneficial.

Overall, I received a lot of good feedback; most of the questions or concerns were dealing more with the size of graphics on the site.

Killing Time

"As if you could kill time, without injuring eternity."

This is the saying my mother shared with me, as I told her I date. "Any perspectives?" she asked. Of course my response was no... not yet. Just entertaining myself (for lack of a better phrase.)

"So you're killing time?"

"I guess you could say that" I responded.

And there it was this phrase that I have never heard in my life;

"As if you could kill time, without injuring eternity."

It makes complete sense to me... so undoubtedly my response was silence.

I know that you cannot kill time without injuring eternity. But said like this, at this moment gave me some sort of revelation.

What have I been doing not just in the dating world, but in my life. Every minute counts right? Have I been utilizing my seconds wisely?

Have I lost respect for time?

One out of Three

As we ask repeatedly, what is wrong with the youth, we must first take a good look at our elders. Not necessarily the elders 65 and older; but, the parents, the grandparents. Whoever is raising the children.

On my way out of the restroom at work I held the door open for three older women. Not only because of age, but simple courtesy.

First woman through the door. Nothing.

Second woman through the door. Nothing.

Third woman. "Thank you." And I thanked her.

Too often we minimize the "hellos" and "thank yous" to nothing. No exchange of words, no appreciation is given.

Then society looks at the youth as they brush shoulders with ignorance. And we want more. But if her mother didn't say excuse me, and her grandmother didn't say excuse me. How can we demand it?

Yes, I understand that what you have been born into does not determine where you go; but, foundation is everything. We in our growing stages mimic what we see. Therefore "we" are reproductions of ignorance.