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".

Be Ready

You got to /Earn my affection / Put your back into it /before we get this show on the road
Don’t make me / Lose all my self respect / I ain’t desperate yet so /
Come on now stop actin’ out and act like you know
-Amel Larrieux

At the reunion, on Saturday, we danced. I asked if he was married with children. His response was that he’s single with no children. This piqued my interest...

A bachelor
No children
34 years-old
Hmmm

He asked me if I wanted to go out with him Sunday. Resurrection Sunday is not an average day for me. I was apprehensive and told him so. "We’ll play it by ear, I’ll text you after church”, I said. He asked me where I wanted to go, where I wanted to meet…
Hold up – who asked who if they wanted to go out?!?!

Where is the small talk... What do you like to do? What's your favorite cuisine? Where's the effort?

When I ask a man to go out with me, I know the restaurant and the activities I want to get into. It must be because I am a foodie that I know restaurants galore and their specialties. I don’t eat meat, but I do eat seafood, so that’s my preference. However I also love Indian, Chinese and Vegan. Give me a region in NY and I have a favorite restaurant within it. I love to eat out. But I also have my favorite things to do. I love going to the Village Underground on Sundays for their open mic night. And do you know who they feature...? Cheryl Pepsii Riley! I may be dating myself but she sang "Thanks For My Child" back in the 80s. And she still has IT. I love her! I also enjoy Cafe Wha? It may be a little small and tight but I still love the mess out of it.

So my response to where I wanted to go, where I wanted to meet… “We’ll talk about it tomorrow”. By now I already knew that the text I sent on Sunday was going to say, “Can we reschedule?”. Part of the reason is I knew that I would be getting home in the early morning hours and I’m not young and spry anymore - I knew I’d need Sunday afternoon to recover. The 2nd reason was I wasn’t sure that the date would be worth it.

Since being single and not looking is my focus this year, I am wisely choosing how and with whom I spend my time. I thought it was nice of him to ask me to dinner but I actually move at a slower pace. I would have preferred a phone call or two before setting up a date. Let’s play a little catch up on the phone first. After all, it’s been 16 years since we graduated from high school. I think we’ll have a lot to talk about…

I haven’t heard from him since I asked for a rain check on the date.

And I am not surprised.

At first I thought that he wasn’t really real to begin with. Then I felt that maybe he was put off by me not answering his questions. Then I felt that maybe he was intimidated. I am a 33 year old woman with no children. While his status may say to me, “He’s a good catch”, my status may say to him, “Why the hell isn’t this woman married?”, “Is she crazy?”, “Gay?”, “How is it that she doesn’t have any children?”… By the way, I’m actually thinking the latter questions about him…

So I go back to… “We’ll play this by ear…”

I wrote all of that to say… There is an art to asking a woman out, and the art to asking me out is being ready. I hope I'm not being too hard with resentment and bad judgment clouding my thoughts and actions. I have standards where in my past I didn't have or I didn't uphold. Now I do have and I plan to uphold each and every one.

Maybe he’s taking his time to get ready, complete with a date, time and location or maybe to him, I’m not worth the attempt. Maybe he wasn’t really real…Whatever may be going on, I say to him and er’ry man who steps to me as Jill Scott sang in her song "Be Ready" "When(when) You(you) Come (come) To(to) Me(me,me,me,me), Be ready, Be ready, Be ready, Be ready" because you’ve got to "earn my affection, put your back into it... come correctly, come strong and don’t drag your good foot behind..."

First Love

“The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end” -- Benjamin Disraeli

As I mentioned in my previous post, I saw my first love at Saturday night's reunion party. Our reunion was really a Facebook meet up and my first love doesn't even have a Fb account, so seeing him was unexpected.

First loves are so wonderful, so innocent. We were each others first love. We shared so much with each other. We talked openly, we cried together. We also had a very troubled relationship.

There is something about my first love that grips me. For instance when he walked into the bar and our eyes met, there was such a visible sweetness there. It was evident as we hugged longer than I hugged anyone else that night and he shouted over the music that he missed me (we speak often but we haven't seen each other in about 5 years), and as he grabbed my hand so I could lead him through the bar where his friends were.

Outwardly we were the envy of our schoolmates. And on Saturday night, I did not imagine the catty looks we received as we walked while holding hands and taking pictures together. However in high school, through thick, thin and stupidity, we stayed together. I've always been a tyrant and I run a tight ship. My first love didn't get away with a thing but he drove me nuts simply by trying my love and patience.

As first loves do, we outgrew each other... really he met another girl in summer school and I met another guy on a weekend trip with my mom. But a bad accident brought us back together again. Because of the severity of his accident, he lost about 2 months worth of his memory and we broke up 2 weeks before, so when he emerged from his coma, the 1st person he called on was me and because I loved him, I came running.

His memory eventually returned or his friends reminded him that we had broken up and one Tuesday night as I visited with him, he asked me why I kept coming to see him - traveling from the Bronx to school in Manhattan to the hospital in Brooklyn only to leave Brooklyn, late at night, ride through Manhattan and end up back in the Bronx, all on public transportation! - even though we weren't officially together. The answer was "Because I love you".

I cherish the wonderful memories of my first love and sometimes I relish in them. I remember thinking and believing that he would be the man that I married. Sometimes I imagine the "what if" and the "what could have been". I always thought my first love would be my last love. I never could have fathomed that we would end. I know most women have this very same wish...

He is still single, eligible, and if ever I need anything from him, no matter the cost or time or the inconvenience, he will accommodate. His role as my first love and emerging in later years as a friend has helped to mold me into the woman I am. Indeed there was something very magical about us and the sparks of it shone at the reunion. It was beautiful.