i need

by now... if you've been visiting me long enough then you know that i'm an erykah badu fan and "fan" is an understatement.  if the myth about her is anything next to true, she's entranced me from day one.
it's been a good long while since i've chosen a song as my theme song... a song that when i hear it, my head drops, my eyes close and my lips spread in a smile...my recent choice... "window seat"... while the video has caught major buzz lately, it's the lyrics that delight me.

it's that part... the bridge, when the music changes to the 3 beats and then a clap... the part where she's singing about needing... i personalized it... i'm sure we all do it and that's what makes a song, a poem, a piece of literary work so distinctive for us.

the song speaks of something that's hard for me to admit to... the fact that i need.  i have no problem saying what it is i want and especially what i do not want... but need?  needing seems to imply that there's something or someone that i am lacking and i know that i've got all of my needs met... food, check... clothing, check... a job, check... shelter, check... stable family relationships, check...

one night i got an email from one of my suitors where he asked me "what do you need?".  he wanted to give me something special but i appear to have it all so he asked me "what do you need?".  i have given to him... he loves jazz and i love maysa and lalah and i wanted him to have something special from me.  so i bought us tickets to see lalah and bought him the latest maysa cd.  my truth is... i'm not a good receiver... receiving doesn't settle well in my spirit.  i feel the need to overcompensate to the giver instead of receiving and relishing in my gift given... so it's a little difficult and vulnerable for me to ask for what it is i need. and just like life... as i clicked reply to answer his email, "window seat" pops on the radio...

i need you to want me... that's a friend of mine who asked me what do i need.  he's the king of the poker face... while his texts and phone calls let me know he wants me, i'm still not fully convinced, or his grown man game is different from what i'm used to...
i need you to miss me... that's my long distance love (yep that's 2 men, i'm grown and i'm single!)... and though i've seen him recently and we speak all the time, long distance is what it is...
i need your attention... that's for my babies at church... you know young people are know-it-alls and just for a minute, i would like their full attention and they can avoid some of the mistakes they make...
i need you next to me... my bed is empty... there's nothing like a 98.6 degrees laying next to you, up under you, leg thrown across you, arm draping 'round you...
i need someone to clap for me... that's my supervisor, her supervisors, hell all the people at work.  a thank you, a high five, a slight nod that my work is appreciated...
i need someone to come get me... i want to be rescued... i want to be sought after, pursued, captured...
i need your energy... i need my mothers... my biological and adopted mums... those strong women who nurture with their kind words and thoughtful pats on the back... who mother the little girl in me and support the woman i've become
i need your direction... GOD... nuff said...

beat your own damn kids!

i have no children but i love them to pieces... and if by chance i become impregnated, i would be too-too happy. at this moment, however, i am childless.  i like to think that i'm "good" with children, meaning that i am approachable and easy to talk to about school, home life, esteem issues, relationships, and sex... my youth at church usually open up to me about these things.  and i even let them question me about my life and i answer them honestly.  they want to know if their experiences are unique to just them... and we all know that today's issues are not so unique... so i have no problem sharing.  my church youth know i have their back. i want what's best for them and even when i'm hard on them, they know that i do it in love.

i chose the title of this post because recently two of my friends have asked me to speak to their children and even discipline them about issues that i feel is beyond me as a non-parent.

their daughters don't live with me... i'm not the one who bought the short shorts, the wife-beaters, the hipster pants, the g-strings, the provocative shirts nor the make-up... so why should i be the one to tell them to clean up their image?

they didn't do or say anything to hurt me... i'm not the one who allows them to leave for the party at 11:00 pm and then turn around at get mad at them at 2:01 am when they don't turn the key in the lock... so why should i be the one to discipline them about how a proper young lady respects herself?

the last time i checked the legal drinking age is 21... yet you allow them to have a coupla drinks in the house, right?  but then you get upset with them when somebody else notices that your underage daughter is pissy drunk and throwing up and the pictures are all over facebook...


now one of the daughters i am talking about has even begun to talk back to, rip and run the streets all times of day and night and even curse at her parents... if the mother allows this to go down, then why is my cell phone ringing with this child's sweet voice on the other end telling me her mom wants her to talk to me?


i have personally laid my hands on plenty of children.  i truly have no problem popping, choking them, or my personally fave, collaring them.  i have reprimanded them when i felt their behavior was out of line.  children have been sent to me with bad report cards and i have echoed their parent's reactions... the emphasis is on echoing the parents... meaning that me and their mamas think along the same line... meaning that mom has already gotten in that behind and if i should say something it would only be so that the child has a "village experience". but when you turn a blind eye to their behavior or worse... you're afraid of being thrown in jail because your daughter thinks she's bigger and badder than you but you pay the bills, cook the food and put her ass through school, i say you rear your hand back... way back... and beat your own damn kid! 

random words i type...

she sought me out in a dark crowded club. i saw her when i first walked in, one of the 1st people i recognized and she made her way over to me.  it's been 17 years since high school graduation, this is our 2nd reunion made possible by way of facebook and it was good to hook up with old peeps.

she made her way through the crowd of people who were hugging, kissing, squealing "how are you", "you look great", "you look the same"... however when she turns to me she says... "do you still work in midtown?".  "no", i reply, "my unit has moved out to queens"... wow i thought, she must be asking because we used to work so close to each other. we made plans for lunch the last time we saw each other, exchanged business cards and all that.  she then says, "oh i figured that because there's no way you can get away with working in midtown with that hair."

???

my natural, coarse and wild hair?  i had no idea that midtown manhattan, which is the area between 14th and 59th streets, about 5 square miles, had stipulations on which state my hair or anyone's hair should be in. i can't even imagine midtown being some kind of entity that would frown upon and possibly banish me from entering unless my hair was somewhat more... acceptable?

i am not even fazed by this comment nor am i surprised.  this old schoolmate has always seemingly had this black may be beautiful but it's not always right mentally.  it has been a whole 366 days since i made the decision and cut my relaxed hair off.  i went from having 12 inches of relaxed hair...

to having 3 inches of natural hair...

and i have no regrets.  in fact, i could not be happier.

i could have been offended by her comment but i am not. in fact, i am flattered. i love that my hair grows out and up, defying gravity.  i like not having to put up an umbrella when it rains, knowing that my scalp will remain dry.  i enjoy not worrying about wrapping my hair every night and i am excited to work in a field where natural is acceptable - my director rocks a caesar, my supervisor has locs, and almost every woman of color in my worksite proudly flaunts their naturalness.

my facebook inbox is full of messages from friends and friends of friends who ask me when, how and why i cut off my hair and my daily regimen.  i receive compliments especially from people who never would have guessed that i would cut off my treasured relaxed hair, and as blog sister kay c wrote once on her blog, i receive lots of hands in my hair, especially from male acquaintances.

so now that the reunion is over and everyone is posting pics... i have this feeling that one of the messages in my inbox this week will be from this very woman... except this time she won't be asking something like, "girl, how they let you go to work like that" but more like... "i've been dying to do the very same thing... tell me how you made it happen".