When Its Cold Outside...

After a long day of revising briefs, arranging meetings, finalizing menus, and basically running around after the partners, I slipped off my heels and into my fur lined boots, wrapped my scarf around my neck, buttoned up my wool coat and readied myself to face the 30 degree weather. As I walked out the lobby door, a gush of wind flew across my face. I stopped right in my tracks because although I was bundled up, my face was still exposed and that gush felt like a slap across my cheeks. I took in a deep breath and began the short walk to the train station. Once there, I was happy to remove my gloves and reach for my latest treat, my book. 8 stops later and I had gloves on, rebuttoned my coat and was ready to face the cold again. The walk home was short, but definitely not sweet. In the cold, I always try to walk at a quicker pace than my usual Cali stroll. Once I get to the hill that is both my friend and enemy in my quest towards my home, I take in another deep breath and start. Once in apartment, I immediately begin to strip away all the layers that remind me of this wretched cold.

Dinner and wine and now cuddled up in my bed with my book, I hear the wind blowing outside. I take a moment to take in the weather and begin to feel nostalic for love or the comfort of being in love which as we know has two completely different meanings. Instead of going back to my reading, I decided to look up poems by a poet I have been newly introduced to...Khalil Gibran. How I hadn't heard from him before now, I don't know, but his writings have become a great influence and comfort for me. In searching through all the many poems and beginning to feel more calm because great writing has that effect on me. I then came across a poem by Khalil Gibran and as I read it the cold seemed to draft away from me. I became calmed and ready for bed. Here is an excerpt from the poem to share with you guys.

Winter

Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to meand let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me beforethe hearth,
For fireis the only fruit of Winter.
Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Make my soul cry.
Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.
Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.
Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear lonliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.
You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!

-Khalil Gibran

So Bounce Then

So bounce then...

As I heard it, I knew then it was over. This moment was not about discussions of the past and attempting to make sense of the insensible. This moment was real and hard as a rock. He was hard as a rock, but then again why wouldn’t he be? His life contained this metal-like toughness; this impenetrable force of a man that needed no one, but at the same time infected me with this craving of him. Can you see the imbalance of that? I didn’t…at first. I knew this was exactly what a “real” relationship would be like. Blood, sweat, and tears…literally. Nothing in life comes easy, so why should I expect love to be exempt? I convinced myself of this theory. I took my list of demands and worked through them efficiently and effectively daily…or so I thought. Criticism was a constant response. Appreciation came far and few between. Love was just an abstract notion, almost non-existent. But, that was what I was working towards. I was determined that the insecurities, yearning, and disappointment would somehow earn me the love I desired; his love. But alas, this was not the reality. I could feel it. I could see it, but still I pushed through it. There would be brightness in the end. The struggle is always in the beginning. If I hang on, he’ll see I’m worth it. I kept repeating these lines to myself; in the mirror, to those that would listen, and in my head. These lines pulled me through when I thought I would break. These lines and my love kept me warm at night when he wasn’t holding me. These lines comforted me through lonely dinners and single seated movies. These lines kept the relationship alive. These lines also made sure I kept on track of his program because after all, this was not mine. Nothing was mine. Everything was his. I appreciated his headstrong attitude, but became easily discouraged when it seemingly was directed towards me more often than not. I began to feel on edge with every day. My mood, my day, my happiness, my life had taken a pause until a green light was given. And even with the go, it could still be misdirection if I wasn’t careful in my words and my actions. Walking on eggshells was out of character for me and all that knew could see it, but continued to be supportive, because that’s just what we do for people we love. I was losing sight of myself; slowly, but surely. I became unsure of every thought, every action, everything. I had become a disgusting and sad version of this once strong, intelligent, funny, outgoing version of me. I was continuously unhappy even after encouraging him to help with a more suitable outcome. This is by no means a blame game because I let it happen. My only regret is that he didn’t see in me what I saw in him. He didn’t deem me worthy of a fight for, of a change for, of a place in his heart.

It was decision time.

So bounce then, I heard him aggressively state.

And I did.

Mark

I’ve been sleepy and tired all week. Starting to take naps at every break I could. Eating like I had never eaten before. I just shook it off though. I had just recently started a second job ending every night at midnight so I figured my body was just getting used to the new schedule. Anyways I was concentrating on my big weekend. A whole weekend full of fun and relaxation. I would love it. I woke up Saturday morning with the worst stomach-ache. Gosh. What did I eat yesterday? I had to get ready so I quickly put it to the back of my head. I could just get a ginger ale on the way up to Napa. I was asleep the whole way. I was so tired and my usual car sickness worsened especially along the curves of he 37. I started to be upset; I refused to be sick on my birthday. This was going to be a great one; not as crazy as the rest had been. It started out bad and kept getting worse and worse as the day progressed. It was so frustrating to me because it was right in the in between stage. I wasn’t sick enough to be in bed but I was sick enough to complain. I must have been the worse company. Everybody was so nice to me though. They treated me like a princess. On the ride back home, my best friend asked me a simple question. And as I thought about the answer, my mind began running in circles. Now I’m freaked out. What do I do first? Who should I tell? Who’s going to help me? So many questions! How am I going to answer all of them? I decide I needed results. I must have spent an hour at the pharmacy trying to figure out which would be the most efficient. I finally choose one and went home with butterflies in my stomach. The lady at the register smiles at me and says, “Good luck.” I’m not sure which way she means for that statement to go so I just smile and say, "Thanks." The minutes lasted like what seemed to be hours. Finally, I look at it and look over at my friends. I can’t figure out how to read it. One comes over and she’s unsure too. I’m frustrated now because I want to know. Three positive answers later, I had my answers. The thought of it made me dizzy. I had to sit down. I looked around the room at these two smiling faces and I wondered why they were so happy about this? Were they really happy or were they just trying not to freak me out? How would I tell my friends? How would I tell my family? And oh gawd…how would I tell him? We weren’t on the best of terms. Breaking up and getting back together for the last couple of years now. How could I have made a mistake like this? What would happen? I was so confused. Where do I begin? What would I do first? My life would be completely different and that was the only thing I was absolutely sure of.

HISTORY

Most of us view history as a study of the past for those of us in the future to look back on for change or even reassurance. As Barack Obama was announced the 44th President-Elect, I recognized that I had become a part of history. In the future when children and teachers in classrooms talk about the first ever elected African American President, I can say that I remember this exact moment. The emotions I am feeling; the love and support I see around me; the idea that we can come together as a nation to make a change that is so necessary and is a long time coming. I do also want to say that although we are rejoicing in this monumental acheivement, we also need to be aware that this is not the end, but the very beginning of a journey that will continually be history in the making! Here is my favorite excerpt from Obama's acceptance speech last night:

"For that is the true genius of America – that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow."

This is just the beginning for us!

Rantings of a Maniac

Look, I know you’ve got some mixed feelings about us and our relationship right now, but before you end it, you’ve gotta hear me out. I know deep down you really don’t want to let me go. I know you really wanna know why I thought it was a good idea to go through your phone book and call each and every single girl in it. I wanted to see if they had or still have any kind of a romantic relationship with you that could turn into something intimate. You have to realize that I only did it because of my passion and love for you. The love that is so strong in my heart that it compels me to do things like this phone book incident and the showing up at your house in the middle of the night incident and the calling you thirty times a day and the hanging around your job until you got off work. I do all this because I love you so much. I act out in wonder, curiosity and rage when you don’t tell me the whole truth when I ask for specifics about the women in your life. There’s Marie, for instance, who I’ve talked to over and over again. She keeps insisting that you guys are just friends, but I know she’s lying because I can hear it in her voice. When she’s talking to me, I get this feeling like there’s something going on with the two of you, maybe before or even now. I also get this feeling that she wants to be romantically involved with you or wants to be your woman. That would make her a filthy slut because she knows that I’m your girl.
I can’t imagine why someone would want someone that’s already taken. How could you even consider having sex with her. If you are, then just let me know because I don’t want to get in the way of your pleasure. It’s obvious that if you’d rather have sex with other people, then you aren’t satisfied with me, but how could you not be? You seem to like it a lot unless you’ve been faking it this whole time. Then...ohmygawd, are you breaking up with me because I’m bad in bed?

Estelle

She knew that the move was the best for her. She was the girl that wanted the romance and love from all the wrong people. There were plenty of people who would have loved her. Who would have been the one to support all her endeavours and be committed to everything she wanted in a relationship. But these people, she could not or rather would not have anything to do with. She was all about the challenge. She wanted to know that she won and the prize was something no one else could get. There was nothing more satisfying than that feeling of accomplishment. It felt as good as finishing that great book that you know you will always quote from. Like a J. Austen novel made her feel. But then she finally had taken control of her life. When things ended with Casey, she knew that her life would never be the same. She knew that he had made her realize that she walked a path of destruction. She knew that she needed a change. The first big change being where she lived. She had changed her environment first be able to to begin healing and changing herself. Having grown up in the Bay Area of California she wanted a change that was shocking enough but not so drastic that she would give up immediately. She knew the east coast was the place, not too far and not too close. He mom and sisters would be throwing enough of a fit already at the idea of her move, but anything further than a five hour flight would be too much for them. DC was the place she knew she wanted to be. Even in high school she wanted to leave after senior year and be in DC. She was talked out of it by her high school boyfriend thus beginning her destructive judgment when it came to her lovers. She used to make excuses for her behavior while with Landyn because she was so young and inexperienced, but as she fixated only on a certain dramatic characteristic she grew to realize that it wasn’t youth that made her act the way she did then. It was a lack of knowledge of herself. She knew exactly what she wanted, but until now, did not know how to communicate it with herself or others. Her needs were completely lost and she wouldn’t be able to retrieve them until years later.

Billy

I’m not sure I want to go out tonight.

Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Please…for me? She says. I know she's batting those thick eyelashes of hers. I couldn’t help it.

Fine, I’ll go, but don’t expect me to have fun.

You’ll have fun…after a few drinks.

Yeah, I guess you’re right. I sighed. At that, we both laughed.

She had been so good to me since the move. The city felt so foreign to me, although I lived only fifteen minutes away my whole life. But she, having grown up in the city, knew exactly where to go and how to get there. I appreciated that.

I’ll meet you there in an hour.

Ok, see ya there!

I hang the phone up and walk to my closet. What to wear…what to wear, I think to myself as I brush my hands across my shirts that were hanging. The day had been wet and cold, as usual for January, so the short black mini was definitely out. Jeans and a nice plain tee and jacket would do nicely.

An hour and a half later, outfit, hair, make-up done, I’m standing at the bar, alone. It was pretty crowded, as expected for a Saturday night. A woman was yelling to everyone in the bar to go upstairs for cake. I guess it’s her birthday. As I smile at her hanging from the railing, my cell buzzes in my jacket pocket. I scramble to pick it up.

Hey! We are totally running late, she screams in my ear.

Yeah? Wait…we? I knew this was a set-up.

I’ve got two people with me.

Who?

You’ll see. We’re walking up now.

I shut the flip down on my cell and automatically look at the door. I wonder who she could be bringing. The door opens again and I see them. I hadn’t seen him is a while. I smile. He smiles back. I walk over.

Hey you! I didn’t know you were coming? I say to him.

Well, I decided last minute to join you guys.

Ok, then let’s drink. I say. Then notice someone else.

Hi, I say to him offering my hand. He takes it lightly and introduces himself. I smile at him and think to myself that I was glad I came out.

I'm a FRAUD!

DUDE...! I am such a fraud! I just figured this out the other day.

Here is how I happened upon my fraudness:

I left work on Monday not really motivated to work out and decided that shopping would be the better exercise for me. I went to an area of D.C. called Friendship Heights where I knew I could get my Santa Fe salad from the Cheesecake Factory and MJ's Daisy all on the same block. I was on a mission! After a satisfactory salad and too much bread and soda, I went rummaging through sale racks and sniffing perfumes and cologne.


When I walked out of the shops, Daisy and shirt in bag, I wasn't ready to go home and looked up to see a Borders! What better way to kill some time then to spend it looking up books! I wandered in and first looked at the "sale" bin and seeing it was full of pretty flowered post it notes and Hannah Montana calendars, I quickly retreated to the Children's Books section. With my niece's birthday and a friend's baby shower coming up, I looked at what fun educational book I could get for them as I am notorious for the learning toys. 20 minutes pass quickly and with nothing impressive, I walk towards my favorite section: Literature. There I spent another 20-30 minutes skimming through each aisle picking up a few that caught my eye, reading the inserts to get a more accurate account of each story, and taking in the smell of new books. This is my "happy place"!


The smile slowly creeps away from my face as I read the title of the next book I pick up, "First They Killed My Father: A Daughter Cambodia Remembers" by Loung Ung. There is a slight pain that is shooting in my chest. On the cover, a young girl with a piece of paper covering her nose and mouth with a name and number on it used by the infamous Khmer Rouge who terrorized Cambodia for the better end of the 70's. I looked into the girls eyes and thought for a moment that I should relate to this girl because we descent from the same people. I should know what her struggles were/are and I should be proud that the author is able to now voice this tragic story for others to read. The reality is that I had nothing in common with this girl. I was a born American and lived a very American life. I knew nothing about being enslaved by a group of people and forced to work long hours with no pay and scraps to eat. I am American...I had a highschool sweetheart...learned how to drive at 16...celebrated national holidays...watched cartoons on Sunday mornings...I only knew how to be an American. Yes, I learned my native language and yes, I knew how to be respectful of my elders, but I had no idea what I would do if ever I were left in Cambodia alone. I would be LOST!

After finding a desk nearest to me, I sat down and skimmed through the book. I read excerpts from the book which made my heart cry out even more. She, having gone through this horrific experience, is smiling on the back of the book. I felt like a fraud! I moved to D.C. to write my novel, but instead of being inspired by my culture and history, I am inspired by past relationships and those of my friends. All of a sudden, I thought to all the pages and words I had written and felt them unworthy compared to this novel. How could I put so much thought and effort into such a frivolous subject!

So here in lies my problem...Am I a fraud for not knowing my history as I should? or Am I a fraud for writing about love and relationships when there are so many other problems that weigh so much more in the world?

Why I Think The World Will End Soon...

When moving to the other side of the country, I acknowledged the fact that the severe weather change would be difficult for my sensitive native Californian self, but I did not think that Mother Nature would put me through the ringer as she has been doing the last 8 months. My closet has turned from year round clothes to seasonal wardrobe which isn't terrible because shopping is fun for me. I thought Winter would be the toughest for me with rain and snow and 20 degree weather, but it turns out that I was so so wrong. We are technically still in Spring seeing as the Summer is 12 days away and the sun is fierce! I was definitely not prepared for the 95 degrees; 100 with humidity; thunder; lightning; with storms so hard that it that when getting caught in it last week, I was so soaking wet that not only did my cell get water-damage, but my sneakers took two whole days and a round in the dryer to be wearable again.

Just last weekend, me and roommates and friends had a BBQ at home which looked like it would be a great day. About 10 minutes after putting the meat on the grill, the sky started to roar and lightning shot through the clouds as the rain began to pour. And poor Mikey ran back and forth from our back door to the grill to check on the food. His clothes and shoes drenched even the next day from a storm that lasted about an hour. With every lightning both we both ducked as if they were aimed directly at us. And with every duck of the head, we laughed. It was nice that there was another native Californian to share in this experience. After the storm passed, the rest of the day was perfect. It was as if there had been no storm at all. This weather, I tell ya!

This weekend was much of the same. Lightning and thunder and rain for 20 minutes, which made me cancel and remake plans for the night. I went back and forth about whether I should be out or not. I opted for out after the rain seemed like it wasn't returning and thankfully, it didn't. The night was beautiful until the next day when I woke up in a pool of my own sweat realizing that it was about 80 degrees at 8am. It didn't stop there though, as the day progressed so did the heat and humidity. The higher the temperature, the humity added another 5 degrees. As I sat in my living room still as can be and trying to stay cool, the thought crossed my mind that this is just not normal. I mean how can it be this hot with no sign of of it letting up? In that moment I was convinced that Mother Nature is telling us that we are done! WOW! What an epiphany!

Love & Lust

OK...So I was a bit angry when I wrote this, but I wanted to share it anyway...

Love and Lust
Two very different things
I was blinded by lust
Blinded by the thought of love
How has this happened
Strong and independent
As I am perceived
I lost it with the idea of you
Love, I thought
Was something we formed
But I was absolutely
And utterly wrong
Wrong about you
Wrong about myself
Wrong about us
How easily love fades to anger
How powerful it is
The instant one hears it
One feels lost
Alone
Abandoned
You've left me in a haze
Feelings of myself
Discheveled
Unsure
I'm trying to find that strong
Very sure
Very aware
ME
But she's nowhere to be found
This person I once was
Is now
So tainted
By you
Feelings of love and anger
Mixed together
Can truly be a dangerous thing
What can be done
What should be done
What would be done
Nothing
The truth is
The anguish
Frustration
And embarassment
I feel
Is just that
The anger I feel
Is dealt with on my own terms
See
Because
Now we are back to me
I am the one
Left lost
Alone
Abandoned
Remember
I am the one
Left to pick up the pieces
You shattered
The walls must be replaced
Now
I depend
On only me
In the end
As always before
I am my one true love
This love
True to me
Faithful to me
Completely in love with me
This love will and has
Stood the test of years
Past
And years
To come
Though
I don't regret
All we had
I am sorry it happened
But not sorry for you
Not sorry
That in the end
You've come out on top
Your needs have been met
A comfort
You must get from that
Is the one thing
That makes the anger
Boil inside of me
The thought of your contentment
Keeps me laying awake
Through the night
Of to know
You were suffering
If only for a little bit
Would make me feel
Better
My path to take now
Is towards self
I have taught myself a few lessons
Indeed
But the fairytale had to end
Right
The credits are ready to roll
You had the starring role
And me
I was simply an extra
To be exposed
And left
To the side
Nevermind my future
My life
My heart
As long as your's
Had the happy ending.

I'm Back!

I know...I know...It has been so long since I've updated my BLOG, but I have actually been pretty busy in the last couple of months. I've had Christmas at home with the family, a birthday celebration in Vegas, an attempt to find a way to quit one job for the other, and many days of working on my novel, all with somewhat of a broken heart. HMMMM...The last couple of months have been quite interesting. Ok so lets start from the beginning...

Christmas and New Years in Cali

It had been 3 full months since I first left to embark on self full-fillment or rather the attempt of it. I was pretty excited about coming home, mostly because I missed my family and friends a lot. My flight was turbulence-filled but that wasn't the reason my stomach was turning...I was nervous to see my family. I had never been without them for more than a week at a time in my entire 26 years and here I was on my way to see them after 3 months! My sister picked me up from the airport and even though we talked everyday and sometimes twice a day since I've been gone, I jumped when I saw her. We smiled and hugged and then things were completely normal. My nephews and niece had grown so much that I was saddened when I walked in the house and saw them asleep in their beds so different than when I left them. One nephew who was now standing basically eye to eye with me at the age of 11; the other who talked non-stop about everything with precise accounts; and then there was my beautiful niece who remembered me. When I picked her up and she smiled, I thought I would melt. After heart-felt greetings with the rest of my family which included my parents, 2 other sisters, my bro-in-law, and my baby cousin, I was HOME. I had 13 days to celebrate Christmas, celebrate New Years, make my rounds and EAT as much home cooked meals as I could...And that is exactly what I did. I watched my sister and mom cook as I tasted and ate. I hung out with my friends and drank and partied and took lots of pictures. It felt great to be back home where everything was familiar and cozy, but 10 days into it, I was definitely ready to come back home. Especially since I felt like I was repeating myself everytime I visited someone..."Yes, I love D.C...It's a great fit for me...Well right now I'm working 2 part-time jobs...I know the weather can get pretty bad...I'm getting used to it...Yes, I've met some really nice people...It's definitely nice to be back...No, I'm staying until New Years"...My leaving had mixed emotions. I wouldn't see my kiddies for a while, but my sisters would meet me in Vegas for my birthday in just a month. Then off I went to the airport that would bring me to my new home. I was in DC by Jan 6th and it felt great to be back!

The BIG 2-7! Monumental!

As January slowly ends and February approaches, I become excited for 4 reasons...

1. I LOVE when its my BIRTHDAY because it's the only time I can act like a brat and not feel bad about it, even though I almost always do anyway.
2. I get to see my sisters, Bro, and the selected friends that would join me.
3. I could party like a ROCK freakin STAR in Vegas of all places.
and finally...
4. Having been on a pretty strict workout/diet for the past month and losing a few pounds, I was excited to show off my new body!

We all landed at separate times, me being the second to last to arrive. I had literally an hour after checking in to be dolled up for the first round of partying. I had 4 full nights of partying and it started right away. It actually started on the plane with a shot vodka! That was pretty much the rest of the weekend. I forgot about DC and what I was going through and partied like I was 21 all over again. I met people who I had no interest in and nothing in common with, but seemed genuinely interested enough in their conversation to talk all night with. I met a whole Canadian Soccer team who were only interested in white women, but seemed to think that I was hot enough for them...I guess...There was a lot of partying...constant drinking...and eating all the things that I did not allow myself the past month...I was definitely worried that Patrick would be mad, but somehow I knew he'd understand! QUICK shout to Bobby Flay's MESA GRILL...The food was AWESOME. I was the first one up in the morning/afternoon and the last one down in at night/morning. I was running on steam/alcohol and by the time Monday evening came around....I was completely EXHAUSTED...As I sat in the airport waiting to board my plane, my eyes grew heavier and heavier. I took my seat, closed my eyes and when I opened them, we were at Dulles. I had slept pretty peacefully the entire flight...The first for me...I did wake up ready to start my day right away since I had a workout scheduled in a couple of hours...I was back to life...

Money or Sanity? Which would you choose?

I thought I really lucked out having found a job literally a day after getting to D.C. But, my sense of luck surely began to diminish the more and more I spent time in this job...This is my rant for a newer and better job, so please bare with me a few more lines...I am essentially an assistant which is fine, but treated as if I didn't finish high school/or college...didn't major in English...didn't work in a law firm for the last SEVEN years, which makes me pretty capable of a lot of things. I am MICRO-MANAGED so intensely to the point where every piece of work I produce is scrutinized down to every dot of the i and cross of the t...which drives me completely INSANE...I would understand if what I was doing could somehow save a life in Iraq or produce a solution to homelessness and poverty, but its NOT! It's mostly data entry which requires very little brain activity...So why? I ask...WHY?

I do actually have a second part-time gig that helps me to keep my brain stimulated. I absolutely adore this job, the entire place including all the employees and my boss...I am in a better mood when I'm there and it makes my life easier. The obvious choice is for me to quite one for the other, but this second job will not pay me what I need to actually live off of. So here lies my dilemma...Money or Sanity...Only time will tell. OK, my rant is over!

Mi Novella!

I am really really excited about my novel. I cannot say much about what it will be about, but I will talk about my process in getting here...I have always written down thoughts, ideas, stories. When I first got to college, I wanted to change the world so I majored in Sociology. I took classes on urban and inner city sociology. I was determined. I would get into heated debates/arguments with other classmates about issues arising in our cities to our youth. My essays were more stories than a thesis statement with evidence to prove it. Some professors loved what I wrote and others rebuffed it, saying that I was just telling stories. I thought to myself...well yeah, I'm telling stories about what is actually happening around me...Then the second semester of my sophmore year, I took some creative writing classes and in that class and with the help of Matt Goldstein, I knew that I was a writer. I enjoyed every second of completing every assignment. It was in this class that my very first short story. The class did not seem like a class, but more of a neccesity for me. By my junior year, I changed my major to English Literature and have been writing since. For the last couple of years I have been only playing with ideas of what I wanted my novel to be about and it has only been the last few months of me being away from home that I've actually honed in on one major theme. I am now working on my character development which is fun for me because I get to create a person who I can make act, do, and live the exact way that I want them to. It is exciting...That's all I can say now...I will keep you posted on how they develop....

My Semi-Broken Heart

I'm going to keep this short and simple...I met a guy...I fell for the guy...I found out the guy was married...I cried...Now I'm over it...So there!

So now you know what I've been up to the last few months. I will be better at updating as things progress! Thanks for the support!

This Ring

Here's another one my stories...ENJOY!


This Ring



“Hey Stace, what’s up babe?”
“Wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight?”
“Uhhh...Okay.”
“What’s with the slow answer? Have something planned already?”
“Well...Not really. I just wanted to watch the game tonight.”
“Well, I wanted us to go have dinner and maybe dancing? We haven’t been out in so long.”
“I know, but you know I hate to dance, that’s your thing. I’d rather stay home.”
“You expect me to stay home too?”
“Well, maybe you could leave work early and cook dinner? Then we can have an intimate dinner at home alone, without the hassle of the restaurants and other people.”
“But, I like the hassle. I like the other people. I like feeling like we’re doing something besides sitting on the couch. Come on, baby, it’s Friday night. I don’t even like baseball or basketball or football or whatever, anyways. I’ll just be bored. Maybe I’ll call Tanya or Shannon and we can go out.”
“It’s basketball and I don’t understand why you call them every time I suggest we stay in. Don’t you even care that I want you to stay home with me?”
“You want me to stay at home with you, doing something I hate, but you never wanna do anything with me. That’s real fair.”
“Honey, I just want to be with you tonight, away from the crowds and the noise...PLEASE.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll leave a little early and get dinner started. I’ll make lasagna.”
“Ooohhh, my favorite. Baby, you are so good to me. What kind of man deserves a wife like you?”
“You definitely don’t. It’s just that I love you too much for my own good.”
“Honey, you know I love you just as much. Stop saying things like that.”
“I’ll see you tonight. Remember: Be home by 5:30. I don’t want to eat by myself. Don’t bullshit around and get home late.”
“Ok...Ok. I’ll leave right at 5. Thanks, baby, for understanding. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah...Yeah. See you tonight.”
“I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you more.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy looks at the clock in the kitchen: 5:45 p.m. She has just finished putting together a savorily delicious-looking lasagna. She pours wine into two glasses when she notices the time: 6 p.m. Her face turns red hot, like she just swallowed a whole habañero pepper. She stomps into the living room and picks up the phone. Dialing, her hands are shaking. She walks back into the kitchen, looking, for a moment, at the table which is set for two with food and wine under candlelight. She sits down and eats her dinner, ever so often looking up at the clock.
She finishes the last swallow of wine, when she hears keys jingling in the front door. She looks at the clock: 7:15 p.m. Mike is home. He walks in and runs up the stairs to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Stacy starts to clear the table, stopping only to stare at the lasagna for a few moments before throwing it into the garbage. She finishes the dishes and walks upstairs to the bathroom and turns the shower on. As she walks through the bedroom to grab her robe, their shoulders collide into each other. Mike doesn’t move out of the way, so she walks around the other side of the bed to get her robe, then hops in the shower. Mike leaves the room looking into the bathroom with a smirk on his face.
Once out of the shower, Stacy can hear the game blaring from the television and Mike is pushing buttons on the microwave. She walks to her closet and pulls out her red satin shoulder dress and her strappy, golden Manolos. With her robe still on, she sits in front of the vanity, smiling, and begins with her hair and makeup. After putting the whole ensemble on and giving herself another look in the mirror, she walks downstairs. Making sure she passes through the living room to get to the kitchen, she eyes Mike when walking by, but he’s not looking at her. His eyes are glued to the game. Kobe is on the line. She looks away and rolls her eyes so hard, it looks like she is on the verge of convulsion.
In the kitchen, she looks at the clock again: 8:30 p.m. As she sits down at the kitchen table, the doorbell rings and she jumps up. She goes to the door and in passing, Mike finally looks up. His eyes open so wide, they almost pop out their sockets. His mouth sort of moves like he wants to say something, but doesn’t when Stacy turns around to face him, showing her entire beauty. She looks at him for a moment by the door, he doesn’t say anything. He gets up, turns the television off, throws away his T.V. dinner and stomps up the stairs and slams the bedroom door. Stacy opens the front door and smiling at Shannon, turns to get her coat and purse, then walks out slamming the door on her way out.

******************************************************************************

“Wow, Shannon, this club is nice. Where’d you find it?”
“Some people from work were talking about it and since you needed a night out, I thought we should try it together.”
“Well, the people look cool and the music sounds good...Let’s get a drink before we sit down.”
“Sounds good to me...To the bar!”
“What can I get you, honey?”
“Hi, Grey Goose Raspberry Martini, please.”
“And I’ll have a Mandarin Cosmo.”
“Wow, vodka. Now I know you must be stressed. You get loaded off pear cider. What happened with Mike tonight?”
“Oh, Mikey is just Mikey. It’s the usual. He says one thing, does another. I just couldn’t sit at home through this one. I wanted to be out. Ooh, look, there’s two seats.”
“Cool. So tell me what happened this time around.”
“I’m telling you it’s the same ol’ sob story. I wanna go out...He gives me the guilt trip...I cook dinner...He’s two hours late...I get mad...He doesn’t seem to care...I leave.”
“Well, I’m glad you came out. Mike needs some time to himself tonight. You look great and all the honeys in here can not stop staring.”
“Yeah, right, how do you know it’s not you?”
“Girl, please, I ‘ve got taken written all over me.”
“And I don’t? This ring means nothing?”
“You’re taken by Michael. I’m taken in a much different way. You know what I mean.”
“Wow, this reminds me of college. Damn, it’s been a long time.”
“Remember how great it was?”
“Yeah it was great. The drama was real great. Let’s stop talking and start having some fun. No more reminiscing about college talk...No more Mikey talk...No more talk at all...Ok?”
“Whatever, but speaking of fun, look at the cutie walking this way. Look familiar to you?”
“Shannon! You didn’t!”
“Hey, you need a break from Mike.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy gets dropped off in front of the house: 2:15 a.m. She hesitates by the front door. After about five minutes of straightening her clothes and hair, she lets herself in. She takes off her shoes and tiptoes up the stairs.
As she opens the bedroom door slowly, peeking her head in first, she notices the bed is still perfectly made and Mike is not in it. She swings the door wide open, dropping her shoes where they are and goes into the bathroom. He isn’t there. She runs downstairs. He’s not in the kitchen, not in the living room, not anywhere. Her eyes are wide and she looks nervous.
She stands in the living room for a moment, takes a deep breath and goes to the linen closet and gets out a pillow and blanket. She sets them on the couch and sits down, turning the television on. ESPN is on showing highlights from the game earlier. She leaves it on, but isn’t remotely interested. Her eyes are fixed between the front door and the clock sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.
Stacy reads the clock: 3:30 a.m., when she hears Mike’s keys in the door. She automatically turns her head to face the television. Mike walks in and she looks up at him and smiles, a very little one, but a smile. He smiles back and looks relieved. He walks up the stairs to the bedroom while she sits on the couch. He changes, comes back downstairs, looks at her and gives her another smile. As soon as he starts to sit, she stands up, looking at him with what looked like a smile, but with a curl of her lips turned into a smirk. She hands him the pillow and blanket and walks away. He starts to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he just looks away and grabs the remote.
Stacy walks up the stairs and into the room. She picks up her shoes and changes out of her dress. As she gets into bed, her eyes are puffy with tears that she’s obviously refused to let stay in any longer. Even with the tears, she doesn’t look sad, nor does she look mad. She takes a deep breath and puts her face in the pillow and continues to cry.

******************************************************************************

“Yo, Ben, it’s Mike.”
“Mike, what’s up buddy?”
“Stacy just left...with Shannon.”
“With Shannon! Yo, you know that’s trouble. Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know, but she left here with almost nothing on. I bet Shannon’s taking her to one of her clubs.”
“Oh, definitely, and you know Shannon’s a freak too. Damn, you must’ve fucked up big time.”
“I was an hour late for dinner.”
“Big fuckin’ deal. Work is work. She should know that.”
“I made this big ass deal about her cooking me dinner and I got held up talking to Steve about getting some Laker tickets for next week’s game against the Nets.”
“You called and told her it was work, right?”
“Couldn’t, she knows when I’m lying.”
“See, that’s your problem, you’re weak.”
“Whatever.”
“Ok, I mean you just don’t know how to control your woman.”
“Ohh, but she cooked me dinner, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, and she’s out right now with a freak and who knows who else and you’re at home on the phone whining about it. Like a bitch.”
“Whatever, so, what should I do?”
“My poor friend, you are so lost. I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to get dressed and I’ll be over in 30. She wants to go out, you’re going out too.”
“Alright.”

******************************************************************************

Mike and Ben walk into the club and Ben is immediately greeted by two very attractive waitresses in mini skirts and four-inch stilettos. They each give him a kiss on the cheek and then go their separate ways. Ben walks towards the bar with Mike following slowly behind. While it is difficult for Mike to get through the crowds of people, it seemed as if the crowd part, when Ben starts to walk.
They reach the bar and Mike and Ben are separated again by another pair of attractive women. Mike sits down at the bar and orders a drink. He turns around on the stool to face the frenzied dancing crowd with his drink in his right hand. After a few minutes, his head nods to the rhythm of the music.
He’s there a few more minutes when a brown-haired, green-eyed, model-like woman walks up to him, smiles and puts her hand his shoulder. Mike looks up at her, puts up his left hand, showing his finger which is dressed rather nicely with a 2-carat diamond studded band. She takes his hand, looks at the ring, smiles at him and then begins to move her hand down his back. He immediately looks annoyed, pushes her hand away and turns from her towards the bar again. She stands there for a few minutes and then walks away looking stunned.
Mike orders another drink and looks around the club. He sees Ben across from him with girls all around, giggling and holding onto every word coming out of his mouth. Mike gives a little sigh. This is what his night is like: drinks, drinks and more drinks. He doesn’t dance, nor does he even get up off his stool the entire night.

******************************************************************************

“Man, that club was off the hook!”
“Yeah, it was cool, I guess.”
“What, you didn’t have fun? Did you see how many bitches were in there?”
“Yeah.”
“Yo, what about that fine-ass Italian broad I seen all in your face?”
“Man, these chicks out here are crazy. I’m married and she acts like she doesn’t even care. This ring means nothing?”
“Look, when have you ever known me to stop because of a ring? Girls are just the same. They don’t care. They look at it like, why are you at a club if not to meet them?”
“What, a man can’t go out without having to be on the hunt?”
“I’m just saying that some women like it more that you’re committed. It makes you look better. Why do you think I keep Tanya around? She makes me look good.”
“Man, that’s fucked up.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I guess. It’s just that this is bullshit. Why am I out here when I have a wife at home?”
“Correction, your wife is not at home.”
“You know what I mean. I got married because I was tired of all this...The fighting over petty shit...The clubs...The girls, but here I am. Man, there’s something wrong with my marriage.”
“You said it, not me.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?
“Well, what do you wanna do?”
“I wanna go home...Take my wife in my arms...Look at her...Tell I her fucked up...Kiss her...And make sure she knows this is it for me. She is it for me.”
“Shit, you’ve answered your own question.”
“I know. Why did I even think it was a good idea to go to a club with you anyways?”
“Man, please I don’t care what you say. I had a great fuckin’ time.”
“Well, I’m just worried about my wife right now. I need for things to be good between us.”
“You’ve gotta prove it to her, my friend.”
“I know...And I know just how to start.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy walks into her office. She sits down, turns her computer on and looks at the clock: 9:30 a.m. She puts her face in her hands and keeps them there until the alarm on her palm goes off reminding her of an 11 o’clock meeting. She starts checking her phone messages and as she’s starting on her emails, she’s interrupted by a knock on the door. She looks up to see a huge beautifully arranged bouquet of roses, red and white, and the delivery man hiding behind it. She gets up to help him and sign for it. After placing the bouquet on her desk, she takes a step back and stands there shaking her head and smiling at this massive show of affection. She goes over to the bouquet and reads the card, her face glowing with love and admiration from the words she’s reading. She kisses the card when she’s done, puts it in her desk and looks out her window off into the Monday morning traffic on the highway. She sits there in silence for a few minutes, then her phone rings.

“Hi, this is Stacy.”
“Hey. How are you?”
“Ohh, hi. I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m well. Did you get the flowers I sent?”
“Yes, I’m looking at them right now. Thanks, they’re beautiful.”
“My pleasure. Anything to put a smile on that face.”
“Last Friday night was pretty crazy, huh?”
“I don’t think it was crazy, I had a good time with you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
“Well, you know my situation is kinda difficult.”
“I know, but we’ll work through it. I’m not trying to come between you and him, I just wanna be with you.”
“I know. I just can’t imagine how he’ll react if he finds out. Remember what we went through when he first ran into you?”
“Baby, that was college, six years ago. People change.”
“You haven’t. I thought you’d given up on me six years ago, but here you are again. I know my husband, he hasn’t changed. That’s part of the problem with us now.”
“Hey, I loved you way before he was ever in the picture. You’re right, I haven’t changed. I loved you then and I still love you now.”
“You’re going to make it difficult, I know you are.”
“No, I won’t. I promise. I just want to be with you. I’ve already lost six years. You’re not going to push me away again, are you?”
“I’ve never stopped caring about you, but I’m not leaving Mike.”
“I’m not asking you to. Look, let’s just take it one day at a time. Ok?”
“Ok, fine. Look, I gotta go. My 11 o’clock is here.”
“Can I see you later, then?”
“Ummm...Sure.”
“What will you tell him?”
“We’re still not talking and he left a note on my briefcase this morning saying he was going out tonight.”
“Ok, I’ll pick you up from work at around six, then.”
“Ok...Ohhh...And Sophie?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m glad you called. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
“I’m glad too. We’ve got some years to catch up on...I’ll see you later. I love you sweetie.”
“Love you more.”

My Bronxgiving Weekend

The very first holiday away from home and it's my absolute favorite one! Thanksgiving is the only time in the year that I can eat all I want and not feel terrible. A few weeks before the day, I had a few choices to make...Where would I go? I could have gone home for a few days, but at what expense? I could have stayed in DC and cooked a great meal, but for who? I could go to NYC and spend the holiday surrounded by a few friends. I decided on the third option. I packed a bag along with all the ingredients for my famous peach cobbler and off I was towards what could possibly be a new tradition for me.

The drive was quiet and beautiful. Passing through Baltimore and into New Jersey showed off the eastcoast autumn leaves on the trees in bright reds and yellows. Although the turnpikes were plentiful. I felt that we passed a toll booth every half an hour with exits labeled with numbers instead of names of streets. Everyone seemed to be leaving the city and here I was driving into it with a calm that I did not think I would have on such a day. I was sure that I would miss everything about being at home. I knew that Thai was already up with putting the turkey in the oven. The house smelling of spices, sweet potatoes, and melting butter. I thought of them, but my heart did not ache to be there as much as I thought it would.

I get into the city by early afternoon and await my friends arrival to pick me up. He lives in the Bronx and I was excited to see his new place. As I sat and waited in Union Square, I looked around and noticed that the city was still very busy with lots of people out and most of the stores still open. I thought to myself how unaffected this city was with this holiday where I was constantly thinking of my family back home and worrying that I would be lonely. As I breathed in the crisp air, I knew that the energy pulsating in the streets of NYC will make it impossible for me to feel lonely.

With the arrival of one of my best friends, we were off to the Bronx via the 6 train. It was great to see a familiar face. I began to feel more comfortable and then loosened up a bit. The jokes and laughs came out soon after. Looking at him calmed me. Thanksgiving was a success! There was only five of us, but we cooked for about fifteen! A 20 pound turkey...mashed potatoes, mac-n-cheese, stuffing, spinach casserole, yams, and of course cornbread! We ate and ate and ate! Tackling the sales pages of the newspaper to see where we would shop the next day was next. A stream of storytelling, newpaper articles and hours of mindless television later I was getting ready for bed.

I woke up the next morning with every intention of going into the city and exploring. I even had a lunch date. As I walked outside, a brush of the 32 degree air gushed towards me and I knew then that I wouldn't go that far. My first concern was the hunger I felt, so I walked around the block a bit in search of something to eat. The neighborhood was nearly all residential, with a few markets sprinkled within. Admiring the buildings while walking, I finally found a place. I sat and watched people from the restaurant. Even in this part of town where there were nothing but brick homes and parked cars, the people still seemed to be in a rush to be somewhere. I guess the cold can give a pep to anyone's step as it did mine. Just an hour after leaving the house, I was back in the warmth and comfort of his room. Television was my company until he came home. With drinks in tow, I knew that the night would be spent indoors which I was grateful for. "Pour me a shot!"

The next couple of days happened the same as this. Intentions to go into the city took a backseat to walking around the Bronx. I wanted to know the different areas of NY without just saying that I was in Time Square. Who hasn't? The different bourroughs were more interesting. Plus, the walking around gave us time to talk to each other and catch up. We visited the South Bronx where the soul of true hiphop lingered in the streets. It was an amazing feeling to be there. On 116th is the tightest boutique called Everything Must Go. I wanted almost everything in the store. Thanks for the hook! Then lastly, we visited an upcoming area called Parkchester. The neighborhood is full of people and great places to eat and shop. At night we visited a few neighborhood bars and kept close to home.

By the end of the weekend, I was pretty familiar with this part of NY. I was proud of myself. I had a relaxing time with a great friend and by the time I was on my way back to DC, I knew that I had made the right decision in coming to NY for this holiday. Although I was a bit anxious to sleep in my own bed again, I knew that these last 4 days would sustain me until I can go home for the next big holiday.

Seasons Change

After a lingering summer and a few days of rain and humidity, the Fall Season is upon us in the nation's capitol. I woke up to a brisk Monday morning this week feeling energized because of the time change. I am ready to start the new week. As I wait for the G2 bus at the end of my block, I noticed the trees. The leaves on the trees have changed from a dark green to a mixture of yellowish-orange. The air smells fresh and crisp as I take a deep breath in through my nose. It makes me smile. I can't believe I am witnessing the seasons change. In the Bay Area, there was one straight season for the whole year, which is all the seasons combined. The rain comes in waves and then there are days and days of sunshine. My wardrobe is definitely one from California; no jacket thicker than a track-jacket from A&F. Those that have been in D.C. through a few winters laugh at the sight of my thin sweaters as if they could ever keep me warm. As a slight wind blows my way, I begin to feel the chill. The feeling is a different kind of cold. It's a kind of cold that makes me wonder if I shouldn't have put on another layer or two. The fur-lined boots are now a necessity rather than a fashion statement. My smile slowly disappears. I mentioned the cold to a co-worker and she said, "Get ready, this is just the beginning." This worried me a bit, but take small comfort in knowing that I'm not in the northeast or the mid-west where is apparently can be 20 degrees below zero. INSANE! I know that the Bay Area is not the O.C., but the coldest I've ever felt was maybe 40 degrees, whereas it is in the high 40s here now and I am already complaining. What have I gotten myself into? Whose great idea was it to move here anyway? Oh yeah, it was mine!

Happy Halloween!

Hi All!

Happy Halloween!

I'm unsure what I'm going to get into tonight since I have the entire night free. Of the three parties that I have been invited to, all include some great idea for a costume, but I am feeling lazy so I could stay home and make dinner with a bottle of Virginia's best vino and pass out candy to the kids in the neighborhood. I'm still deciding...My friend Pam is really pushing me to go to a party at a bar in Adams Morgan that apparently will give you all you can drink for only $5! As tempting as that sounds, I know that tomorrow I will be working a 10-hour day, so waking up with a hangover doesn't sound very "grown-up", because let's face it, $5 and all you can drink is an invite for public drunkeness. I'm on the fence about this.

I'll let you know which I decided on tomorrow!

Writing about Ms. Austen

Anyone who knows me, know how I feel about the late great Ms. Jane Austen. It started as a prerequisite to getting my Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from San Francisco State University and ended with my agressive passion for 19th Century literature and most of all the lovely Ms. Jane. She was an extraordinary woman who understood herself and those around her. Her perception of 19th Century life and the roles people had to abide by is fascinating. She knew what was expected of her, but chose to take her life as her own. She did as her mind and heart wanted and not what her family or society wanted. Before I start to babble, I'll get to the point of this blog entry...
A friend of mine sent me a book that she thought I would enjoy...a novel by LaurieViera Rigler called Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict. I got the package on a Friday and with the first opening of the book, I was halfway through by Saturday morning. This Laurie Viera Rigler read right into my imagination of wondering what it would be like to be a 21st Century girl in a 19th Century world. She captures the feelings and essence of wonder and amazement at the priorities of the family in which the character has awaken to. There is one passage that I have to share with you all...The main character, Courtney, is describing her love for Jane Austen in a way that takes the very words out of my mouth. Courtney feels as I do about Jane; a mixture of admiration and anxiety...Read it here....

"I am too afraid of exposing myself to such a literary group, who would no doubt think me unworthy because my entree to Austen was via Colin Firth prancing around in tight pants for the BBC. So what if I ran out and bought all the novels and read every single one before I saw another adaptation. A woman with a Jane Austen action figurem still in the box no less (because the box is the best part), would surely be shunned by such scholarly folk."
Chapter 11, Page 65

Although I do not have the action figure, the thought that I could get my hands on one is tempting enough for me to get on E-Bay. This quote confirmed in me that I was not the only one who does not deem herself an expert of Literature, but has an amazing adoration for Austen and her writing. LONG LIVE The Jane Austen Addicts!

HELLA

Hella:

A multi-purpose word invented by people in north california, indigenous to the Bay Area.

Adjective: To describe a lot of something or something good.

Noun: A lot of

Adverb: Suplemental, inferrs a great quantity or that you're doing something and DOING IT RIGHT!

Interjection: An affirmation of what someone just said

Adjective: This party is hella chill.

Noun: I have hella.

Adverb: The Bay areais fuckin hella better than socal

Interjection: Nicole: Dude that shit was off tha hook
Jaime: hella!

Skinny Jeans

So I have always been against the "skinny jean", thinking that only really skinny people could benefit from them. Being a woman with a bit more meat on her legs and behind, I felt like I'd look a mess with them on. I stand corrected. In the first week of my being in D.C. I went to Georgetown to do some shopping. I came across a pair of these infamous "skinny jeans", looked at the tag and low and behold...It was my size. I thought this to be a joke at first because no way could my frame fit in these jeans. In the spirit of trying new things and being in a different city, I took the jeans into the dressing room and tried them on. It was a bit of a struggle, but supposedly they are hard to put on no matter what size you are. I walked out of the dressing room and looked in the full-length mirror. I LIKED THEM! They looked tight and restricting, but felt oddly comfortable. I walked around the store a bit and decided on doing the very thing that just a week ago, I would never have done...I bought a pair of skinny jeans. After having worn them now a few times, I realize that they have become one of my favorite pairs of jeans. The more I squeeze into them, the more comfortable they feel to me. I have converted and now am a part of the "skinny jean" club. All those who object as I once did, please just try one on...It'll change your life!

LOVED

The sun shone brightly through the curtain as I was waking up. I rubbed my eyes, wiping away sleep from the night before. I looked around the room. For a moment, confused. Where am I? I huffed as I realized I knew exactly where I was. I was in my old room. The room I grew up in. In the corner is the dollhouse I took so much pride in taking care of when I was younger. The family was still there in the dining room having dinner where I’d left them 15 years ago. My bed, my dressers, my room; all still the same. The only thing different was the scent of the room. Mom traded between four scents of the Glade air fresheners. She had one scent for each season. The room was Hawaiian Breeze this season for the late summer we were having.
I pulled the sheets from over my head. I can’t believe I used to love these floral sheets. How can you sleep in flowers? I looked at the clock by the table. 12:30 pm. I can’t believe I’ve slept so late. Then again I’ve been sleeping in the past two weeks. I rose up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Well, it was more like pushing my legs over the side of the bed. I put on my robe and opened the door. From the hallway, I could hear music and the vacuum going at the same time. It was ancient music. My grandfather used to make me listen to it when I was growing up. It always seemed so sad to me, like listening to the blues or love songs after a break up. Papa used to tell me that a good song would bring your emotions to life and in this instance, he was right. I couldn’t understand what the man was saying in the song, but I knew he was hurting. The strain in his voice made me feel like I wasn’t the only one in the world feeling pain. I get to the bathroom and look into the mirror above the sink. My eyes were puffed like I was just in the ring with De la Hoya. I need to stop doing this to myself or I’ll never leave this house. I turn to the tub to start a bath and hear my mother.
“Lauren, is that you?”
Who else would it be? “Yeah, Ma. It’s me. I was just going to take a bath. You need any help today?”
“No, I’m okay. You just take your bath. I’ll fix you some lunch.”
“I can make my own, you know.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to worry about it.”
“You just don’t like anyone in your kitchen,” I mimicked under my breath. As the steam from the water rose, leaving a mist, I stare at the mirror and say, “Tell me again, why I’m here?”
After the bath, I feel a little bit better.
“You’re still in your robe?” my mom said as I walked down the stairs. Almost immediately my mood changes.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ma.”
“Well, you never know if anyone will show up. It would be nice if you, at least, looked decent.”
“Ma, no one visits you and the people who do are your other daughters and they know what I’m going through, so they’re not expecting anything more than this from me, ok?”
“What if he comes by?”
“He won’t. If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t.”
“Lauren, don’t talk like that. It’s not lady-like.”
“Well Ma, I’m not really feeling like a lady right now.”
“I can tell. You haven’t much wanted to look like one either the last couple of weeks. Wearing that robe everyday and all. Anyways, I made you a sandwich and some hot tea.” She walks towards the kitchen, leaving me there with nothing more to say, I roll my eyes at the back of her head and follow her into the kitchen. I wish he would hurry up and move out, so I can have my apartment back. My great, spacious, nagging-mom-free apartment. After the split, I wanted him out of there. He needed some time to get his finances together and couldn’t move until the end of this month. I should have known better anyway than to get involved with a bartender. They make so little money sometimes.
So, here I am in my mother’s house where I’m transformed back to being 9 years old again. She thinks the break-up is entirely my fault. I tried to explain it to her, but she says she doesn’t understand. I don’t think it’s because she doesn’t understand; I think it’s more she won’t understand.
“I want you to drink the tea, Lauren. This tea, it’s good for your soul.”
“Yeah, Ma. What hole in the wall shop from Chinatown told you that?”
“No store has to tell me, I know these things. Thirty years in America and I still remember old remedies my mother and grandmother passed down to me. As for you, hush with your smart talk and drink the tea.”

“Don’t be silly, there’s no soda in this house. There was none when you were younger and there certainly isn’t any now.”
“Really? You don’t have soda? I always thought you lied to us, so we would drink more water.”
“Why would I have to lie to you, when I can just tell you that you can’t have it?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Now, drink the tea.”
The doorbell rings and I look up. My heart skips one beat.
“See, I told you, you should be dressed.”
“Ma, did you have anything to do with whoever that is?”
“Nonsense, I’ve been down here cleaning all morning.”
She opens the door and smiles. Tash walks in with her two boys. I jumped from the table. They are about the only people that can still make me smile right now.
“Hey, babies! How are my favorite nephews?”
“Fine, Auntie,” they say in unison. Alex is 8 and Matt 5. The pride and joy of my father. He struck out four times with me and my three sisters, but Tash had given him what he always wanted. I gave them both a hug and they ran off into the living room.
“So, how are you today?” Tash looks at me with sympathetic eyes in a way that only my older sister could.
“I’m alright. It’s actually not as bad as everyone thinks,” I say to her, looking in my mother’s direction. I was already sick of people feeling sorry for me.
“You know she wasn’t out of bed until about an hour or so ago,” my mother says as she walks by.
“So what, Ma. I was tired. Don’t blame that on him.”
“Well, you are the one that is always up at the butt crack of dawn, Lauren. Always a meeting, always an interview, always something to do,” Tash says a little concerned about what my mother just said.
“I know, but I just wish everyone would give it a rest already. I won’t get over this if I have to relive every aspect of the relationship whenever people come to ‘see how I’m doing’. She hates when I sarcastically use my fingers for quotes. I do it just to bug her. I walked into the living room and pretend to be interested in the Sponge Bob cartoon on the television. Tash sat down next to me and smoothed away wet hair from my eyes, and I can’t help but put my head on her lap. She stroked my hair as I lay silent. Even at 30, she’s the ideal mom. She always knows when something is wrong and always has a solution to fix it. I can talk to her about anything, whereas, anything I tell my mother would be used against me.
“All these people that have come to see me, you know the one person who hasn’t?”
“Let me guess. Bea?”
“You know her so well,” I said again in my sarcastic tone.
“Well you how she is. Were you expecting anything more?”
“I guess I figured this was such a big break up that she would at least have been worried about me. We were together for four years, you know?”
“I know.”
“Bea is really busy. She doesn’t have time to just sit around crying and watching TV like you, Lauren,” my mom interjects from the kitchen.
“Of course, Ma. Bea has so much going on...with all her jobs and all her boyfriends.” The last part I said under my breath.
“Now, Lauren. It’s not nice to talk about your sis like that. She is still older than you.” Tash was straight old school. She was only three when my parents came to America and my mom raised her the old fashioned way. Marriage before sex, take care of your kids and husband, always do the cooking and cleaning. Lucky for her though, she met a guy that wasn’t into the woman’s role is at home thing, so they share household duties. Anyways, respect for anyone older than you was a big thing for her. Me, Bea and Melissa, on the other hand, were born and raised in Oakland, so we lacked a lot in the cultural values that Tash had. But as I always say, “When in Rome...”
“Tash, don’t take her side. You know she’s wrong for not even coming by. She hasn’t even called. Mel just tells me that they’ve talked about it and she’s worried.”
“Well, there you go. At least you know she is worried.”
“That’s not the point. She can talk to other people about me behind my back, but she can’t even come by to see if I’m okay.”
“Ok, that’s enough negative talk.” Alex is looking back at us curiously. Tash was always on mom duty. “C’mon, I’ll leave the kids here for the rest of the afternoon and me and you’ll go get some real lunch,” winking at me. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay, but I get to pick. I don’t want to go to anyone of your little health food restaurants in Berkeley. We’re going to Mills for a hoagie. You want me out, we’re eating what I want.” “Mom. Can I have a hoagie too?” Alex looks up from the screen with these big, wide eyes.
“Absolutely not. I’ve already made sandwiches for you and Matt. And we are not going to Mills. Their food is disgusting, too greasy.” She shivers a little thinking about it. “We can go to Fridays or Applebee’s or some place like that. I’ll give you those, but not Mills. You’re not killing yourself with me around.”
“Okay fine, Fridays, but you’re paying and I’m drinking,” I say with a smile.
“Of course you are, sweetie, of course you are,” Tash sighs as I climb the stairs to my old room. “Hurry up, Mel’s going to meet us.”

“Hawaiian Iced Tea, please,” I look at our waiter for a little eye contact, but he didn’t even look up from his notepad. Short brown hair, blue eyes. He was cute.
“And for you ma’am?”
“Oh, I’ll have a regular iced tea with no alcohol, please. Thank you.”
“Thanks,” I say as he walks away.
“Lauren, I don’t know how you can do it. Drinking so early in the day.”
“It’s 2 in the afternoon, Tash. The sun doesn’t have to be down in order for you to enjoy a nice drink.”
“I know. It’s just that, you haven’t even had anything to eat yet and you’ll be done with that before lunch comes.”
“Tash, would you stop being mom for a minute please.”
“I know, I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“You’re too uptight; you need to loosen up some.”
“I’m loose.”
“Yeah. Right. You’re loose, like that outfit you’re wearing.”
“What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“Oh, nothing. It just looks like you should be in that movie “Pleasantville” or something.”
“I am a mother of two very impressionable little boys. Having their mother walk around dressed like some hooch is not the look I’m going for. Did we come out for you to ridicule me?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“You know I don’t like to be judged.”
“I know. Anyways. Where’s Mel?” I needed some serious back up here.
“Speak of the devil,” Tashsays looking behind me. I turn around to see my baby sister walking towards us. She smiles and waves. She’s so adorably cute, I think to myself. The short-cut jean skirt, tight-fitted polo shirt, sandals and backpack make her look like she jumped straight out of an A&F ad. Me, on the other hand. I put an outfit like that on and I look disproportionate. My legs are way too short.
“Hey guys, was sup?”
“Hey,” we both say back.
“Uh oh, I feel tension. What did I miss?”
“Oh, nothing much. You’re sister is just sitting here making fun of me,” Tashsays teasingly.
“I am not. I just told her the she looked like she belonged in “Pleasantville”.
“That’s mean, Lauren. You know she’s old and don’t know any better.”
“Okay, you too better behave. Or no more drinks,” Tash says pointing that mom figure at both of us.
“Yeah, drinks,” Melissa says excited. She just started drinking, no thanks to me, only about two months strong and she can hang with the rest of us. I was proud.
“Did you guys order yet?”
“No, the guy took our drink order, but hasn’t come back yet. He was a little rude too. Did you see how he didn’t even acknowledge us?” I look at Tash for some reinforcement.
“He wasn’t that rude,” she looked at Melissa and says, “I think Lauren’s just mad because she wants him to notice her. And who wouldn’t want to notice her. Look at her, in her sweats and that t-shirt. Very attractive, I might add.”
“I didn’t know I had to get all dressed up to go to lunch.”
“Don’t give her so much grief, Tash,” Melissa says. “She’s in mourning, you know.”
“You guys act like someone died. No one is dead. I’m not dead. He’s not dead. He’s very much alive, actually, living right now, in my house. I’m stuck in home-maker hell while he’s living in my great two bedrooms, two bath, high-ceilinged, hardwood-floored apartment with the great view of the Lake.”
“You’re the one who let him stay. If it were me, he’d been out on the street.”
“I couldn’t throw him out. He didn’t have anything or anywhere to go.”
“Don’t pay attention to her, Lauren. She’s being silly. You’re doing the right thing by giving him some time to get it together. You’re being the bigger person.” Tash always knew just what to say.
“Well, if I’m such the bigger person, then why do I feel like shit?”
“It’s hard to explain, but pain comes from love and you know you love him, right? So just let the pain take over a little bit and you’ll overcome it. It’s like everything else you’ve done in your life. You’re faced with certain battles and you always come out on top, Lauren.”
“I guess you’re right. You do know what just to say to make everything feel okay.”
“I’m your big sis; it’s what I’m here for.”
“Yeah, well I wish sometimes Mom would see the situation like you’re seeing it. She’s been in my ear for the past two weeks telling me what a mistake I’m making. How I’m too old already and I’ll never find anyone else that will want me the way he did.”
“I know its hard living with her, but it’s only until the end of the month. He will be gone and you can have your apartment back.”
“I know, but it’s nerve-racking when your own mother will side with your abusive boyfriend rather than you. Not a good feeling, you know.”
“I know. Remember how she was with me when Greg asked me to marry him and I wasn’t sure? She looked like she wanted to punch me in the face. Like I was crazy for wanting to think it over.”
“C’mon, you guys. She’s not that bad. She’s only being mom,” Melissa gets a little defensive. She thinks we misunderstand our mother.
“You’ve got no idea how hard it is. You’re the baby are treated like that even though you’re 21,” I said back to her.
“I just don’t like it when you guys gang up on her.”
“Okay, then. Let’s gang up on someone else,” I say to lighten up the mood a little. I can tell that Melissa is not appreciating our conversation much.
As soon as I say that, the three of us all looked at each other and said, in unison, “Bea!” We all laughed just as the rude, but cute, waiter comes with our drinks.
“Oh, Lauren. That looks good. I’ll have one of those, please,” she says looking up at the waiter. He smiles at her.
“I already checked their IDs, so I guess I don’t have to check yours. Even though you look too young for a drink that strong,” he said smiling at her.
“Don’t let the look fool you, I can hang with the rest of them,” she said to him pointing at me. He doesn’t even look my way. They were totally flirting with each other. I should have known. The guys that are into her are never into me.
“Achemm. Can we order, please?” I had to call both of them back into reality. Tash looked away and Melissa looked a little embarrassed, but shook it off.
“What would you suggest...uuhhh,” she was looking for a name tag.
“It’s Troy. What are you in the mood for?” He leans over me so she can get a better look. I roll my eyes the other way and open my menu just big enough to slap him across the chest. He stood back up.
“Well, Troy, I’ll have the chicken caesar salad,” I said to break the eye contact. He looks at me and quickly jots down the order. Tash orders a Chinese chicken salad and his gaze quickly fixes back onto Melissa.
“I guess I’ll have a salad as well, since everyone else is having one.”
“The blackened chicken salad is really good,” Troy offered. “You should try it.”
“That sounds great, Troy.”
“Okay, blackened chicken, it is,” he smiled and walked away.
“It’s funny how he didn’t offer us any help with our order, huh Tash?”
“Man, Lauren, you were on hater patrol right there.” Melissa laughed at me.
“I was not. He was all leaning over me. It was rude.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
As I sat there at the table with my sisters, I realized how lucky I was to have people like that in my life, one sister excluded, but it was fine. We sat there and ate our salads, drinking our Hawaiian Iced Teas and virgin ones for Tash, of course, joking and laughing. I had a great time. This really was the first time since the break up that I was actually at ease.
By the time I got back to my mother’s, I was feeling a lot better. Though this mood can only last so long in this house. Mommy dearest made sure of that. My mother and I had this relationship that was completely different from the ones she had with my sisters. Tash was the oldest and had the ideal life. A husband, two kids, a home and a secure future. Bea was the favorite, for whatever reasons she had. Nothing was wrong in her eyes when it came to Bea. Her pride and joy. And Melissa, she’s the youngest and as far as I’m concerned she wasn’t pressured in any way because of that.
But, with me, it’s a different story. With me, it’s a constant battle. She had this way of second guessing every decision I made, from the color of nail polish I chose to the career I had. The one thing she always fought with me about was men. It didn’t matter what kind of man I brought home, as long as I brought one home, she was fine. And she treated them better than she would have me any day. For a while, I brought the roughest guys around that I could find. If you’re standing on the corner with a beer in one hand and cigarette in the other, I was all over you. My mother was the only person in the whole family that didn’t mind it at all. All my sisters thought I was crazy and they were right. It was crazy, but it drove me even crazier to know that she didn’t mind them at all.
For the last four years, it changed. Her calls changed. It went from the calls to make me feel like shit about myself to the calls to tell me how proud she was of me for finding the perfect man. He was the one for me. I had been with him the longest out of anyone I’d ever dated and she wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to mess it up. Even though she was absolutely sure that I would. So, when I called to ask to stay at her house for a few weeks, the first thing she said was, “What’d you do?” There was no concern for how I was feeling or what happened, everything was how I was so awful and terrible for doing this to him. It was what I did, not what he did. Even when I tried to explain, she always sided with him. It was a losing battle. Now, two weeks with the constant babble about, letting go of the best thing that happened to you, and, you’re too old now, whose going to love you? I’m ready to get out.

“Hey, Ma. I’m back”
“Did you guys have fun?”
“Yeah, it was fine. Bea didn’t show up, though.”
“Well, she’s busy, you know.”
“Yeah, I heard you say that earlier. “
There is a pause in her voice and I look over. She has this huge smile on her face.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“He came by looking for you.”
“Why?” My heart skips one more beat. I can’t believe he’d come here. He’s got some nerve.
“He just wanted to see if you were okay. Wasn’t that sweet of him? That he’s still concerned.”
“Yeah, I wonder how concerned he was when his hand was going upside my face.”
“He’s sorry for that, you know. He was under pressure. Not having a good job and all. He was feeling inadequate, being as you made so much more money than he did.”
“He should’ve been happy with that. I was taking care of his stupid butt.”
“It couldn’t have hurt if you let him be the man, you know.”
“So, what was I supposed to do? Leave a job that I love and that pays me well, so that my man can feel like a man?”
“It’s just that sometimes sacrifices need to be made for the relationship.”
“So, to be broke together would help the relationship? That makes a lot of sense. I’ve worked too hard for what I have. I don’t need someone coming in and messing it up. Besides, he knew what he was getting into with me. He knew I had goals. He had them too. I was just the one to actually go through with it.”
“See, that’s exactly what I mean. There you go again, degrading him. Imagine what he must have been feeling.”
“This conversation still has nothing to do with the fact that he tried to knock me out, does it?”
“I’m just saying, Lauren. That it wouldn’t hurt if you just ease up a little bit on the situation.”
“Mom, if Dad came in here right now and even thought about lifting his hand up to you, he’d be outta here so fast and you know it.”
“Your father and I aren’t you and him.”
“What’s the difference? Why would you rather me be in that situation than to be happy, Mom?”
“Because, you’re not happy. I see how you are. Moping around here. Not wanting to get out of bed. How is that good? You tell me.”
“Mom, I just got out of a four-year relationship! I’m supposed to be sad. I’m supposed to mope. I am sad! But, it doesn’t mean that I want to be with him either. What he did was unacceptable and no matter what we’ve been through or how long we’ve been together, it’s not going to change. Don’t you get it?”
“I just can’t see why you’re holding on to this so hard, that’s all?”
“HUUHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I can’t believe you!”
I stomp up the stairs to my old room and slam the door. I lean against the door as my eyes start to well up. I shake my head and the tears begin to fall on the floor and on my feet. I stay like that for a minute or so, sobbing. Thoughts were running all through my mind.
I can’t believe she’s so difficult to talk to. Everyone else tells me that I’ve done the right thing, leaving, but not her. No. She makes me feel like I’ve made the worst mistake of my life. How can I recover from this loss and disappointment when she’s constantly telling me it’s my fault? And why would she side with a guy over her own flesh and blood anyway? I’m her daughter. I’m the one she needs to take care of, not him. I’m the one that has done all these great things for me. All these things she’s never acknowledged. I did great in school; I have a great job, a nice place to live, a nice car. But, does she congratulate me on these achievements? No. She’s all about the negative. Why do I eat so much? Why don’t I wear more skirts? Why haven’t I gotten married yet? Why don’t I have any children? Will I? And that is just the tip of the ice berg. She complains that I never want to come and see her, but with conversations like the one we just had, who has time for the emotional drain.
I walk over to my bed and lean against the headboard. Looking out the window, I could see my dad trimming the hedges in the front yard. As if he could feel me staring, he turns up towards my room and waves his hand. I wave back and he blows a kiss and goes back to the hedges. I get up, pull the curtains closed, lay my head on my floral pillows and close my eyes.

I'm in D.C.

Hello All, This past week has been quite eventful for me. I left all that I love behind to venture out in a search to answer the question that I've been asking myself for the last 4 years now..."What do I want to be when I grow up?" A week in DC and I still don't have an answer, but I have great stories that will amuse you all as I continue my search... I arrived into Washington Dulles airport Friday morning not having gotten much rest due to a mixture of airplane crampiness and excitement. With my sisters in tow (minus Thai, of course), I was ready to face DC. The next couple of days were shopping and sight-seeing and making myself familiar with my new neighborhood and city. The heat was intense...91 degrees with 65% humidity is something that I definitely have to get used to. Everyone keeps warning me that the heat is something that you can get used to, but the winters will be what I really want to complain about, especially coming from San Francisco where 56 degrees is freezing! I keep thinking, "Oh joy! I can't wait!" I am renting a house with two other women in the Shaw district of DC. Colleen and Jeunae. Colleen is 26 and Howard alum. She's was born in Wisconsin, but grew up in Arizona and has been in DC for the past three years. Jeunae is 24 and a Stanford alum. She was born and raised in New Jersey and then spent 4 years in California for school. The three of us are recent college graduates, so that gives us one thing in common. Our schedules are pretty different so we don't see too much of each other. Colleen is a homebody so I've seen more of her than Jeunae which I've seen only twice in the past week, both times were running into each other in the hallway. I live about three blocks from Howard University's main campus so my neighborhood is full of college students. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet, but so far I'm okay. My roommates keep talking about Howard Homecoming and how crazy things will get. I hope they mean what happens on campus and not in our house. I've met three of my neighbors. One, a married couple, Fleur and Dan. Dan works for the foreign service and was stationed in Germany until a few weeks ago. Fleur is happy that he's home. I'm not sure what Fleur does for a living, but she's always in the backyard looking at her flowers, glass on wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The next neighbor I met is a divorced police officer with a 12 year old son. He is about 40 years old and has a crush on Colleen. He makes dinner every night and then sends his son across the street with a plate for her. It felt like a scene from a movie. People really do that?!?! My other neighbor is a senior at Howard named Mike. He's 23 and likes to sit on his stoop. Oh and I almost forgot...I have a stoop too! I've always wanted a stoop to sit on since I saw Crooklyn...I try to sit out there as much as possible, but the mosquitoes are out and I don't like how they look at my legs. I got assigned to a temporary job in downtown DC at a place called The Greater Miami Conventions & Visitors Bureau as an administrative assistant to a very nice woman, Michelle Soto. When a company wants to hold a meeting or a convention in Miami, they would have to go through the GMCVB. We get all the meeting specifications from the client and book with a hotel in Miami. My job is answer the phones, type up sales leads, email meeting specifications to other reps that are involved with each client. The company is based in Miami, obviously, and Michelle does a lot of work remotely. It's just she and I right now and so I am very involved, more so than I thought I would be. On my first day, she gave me a crash course of the office and the business. With the seven years of administrative experience with N&F, I was confident I could take it on. After my second day, Michelle asked if I was interested in becoming her permanent assistant! I haven't made a decision yet, but it looks like I'll stay. Then there's KICKBALL. First I'd just like to say that I SUCK! I haven't played kickball since fifth grade so it was an experience. Our team's name is Bunting is the new Black...I know a lot to put on a shirt, but there it is. The World Adult Kickball Association (WAKA) is sponsored by a local bar called Nolan's which is conveniently located a block from Marie Reed Fields where we play. Adams Morgan is the area which reminiscent of The Haight in San Francisco. The teams meet at the bar before or after, sometimes both, the game to hang out and have beer drinking flip-cup challenges with the other teams. I played my first game of kickball and flip-up on Wednesday and I was successful in only one of the two...Of course I would be an expert at any game involving beer. I'm told I'm now an asset to the team. My team is co-ed and they are really great people to know. Garen, the team captain and the reason I joined the team was especially interested in introducing me to as many people as she could throughout the entire night. Good and bad. Pamela just moved here from Los Angeles, so we have the California bond going for us. Richard works at a consulting firm and tells me they are always ready to higher English majors for writing proposals...More on that when I get more from him. Kelsey is from Seattle, but has become very involved in the Bay Area's "hyphy movement". She wanted to tell her all about my growing up in Oakland. She even named her pet turtles...Mac Dre and Mac Mall...(Erin, I know you're laughing). And last of all there's Sean, who has an amazing voice. Did I mention that Wednesday nights at Nolan's is also Karaoke night? When he got on stage and sang Bobby Brown's "Don't Be Cruel", I almost fell off the bar stool. These are only a few of my teammates. More on the rest as I get to know them myself. Oh! And we lost, but that didn't matter. We had a great time! Well, I guess this is all for now. I wanted to let you all know how things are going for me here. I will definitely keep all of you posted with every step I take in this awesome adventure. I miss you all so much already, but will press on. I'll talk to you all soon. MUAH!!!!!!