Woman as only I mean it

I was sifting through tumblr wasting time until sleep caught me when I ran across the following quote: “Life is too short for shitty sex and bad relationships. So go find someone who fucks you right and treats you how you deserve to be treated.” I immediately reblogged it grateful that my Tumblr which is largely unfollowed by anyone I actually know is still a space where I feel free to express all parts of myself. As I contemplated tweeting the quote I was hit with the notion of, “well who follows me?” Professionally, personally I want to be cognizant of how I say things and what I say. And in the same moment of consideration I thought how stifling. And so I tweeted it. And here I am writing about it in a blog post that will later be published to facebook.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Beyoncé Grammy performance and the backlash she received over being so openly sexual. Since when is it anti-feminist to be a sexual being? Isn’t that the exact point of the feminist movement? So that women get to make their own definitions of self? I’m aware of the arguments that say well women fought so hard for us to be so much more than sexual beings for the pleasure of men. Well, and does that mean I can NEVER be a sexual being for MY man without derailing years of sorority? I don’t find myself in defense of Beyoncé but certainly of her right to be whatever the hell she wants to be as an artist and as a woman. I want the same for myself.

I think so many people are uncomfortable with their own sexual selves that the projection of sexual images upsets them to no end. We can’t stand to look at the parts of ourselves in others we openly intrapersonally ignore. So how does that become my problem?

I have to do constant work around this. I recently had someone tell me after reading my blog and then meeting me in person their experience of me did not match my online presence. And I apologized that her experience of me was different than she expected. But the more it sat with me the more I wondered, why am I apologizing? How much is me and how much was their own projections into the situation? And even if it were me, even if on that day in that moment I was the biggest bitch of the west, is that cause to apologize? That was me in that moment. I am allowed to be sad. Mad. Angry. Cold. Dismissive. Stoic. Introspective. Allusive. Or whatever else, right? And it’s not about right or wrong it’s about understanding that however you treat people has a consequence. I genuinely didn’t mean to treat them poorly (if in fact I did which I did not recall). But it’s about that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. But maybe I’m okay with that and whatever it might mean. It’s really no ones call but my own.

I just find myself really calling into question so many of the rules and pictures I used to hold so sacred. I lived and died by precedence and tradition, Shoulds and supposed-tos. And now it’s just not that cut and dry. I write “woman” in my own handwriting and it means exactly what I mean it to. Nothing more or less. I define it myself and others opinion of me is of little concern to me, in that regard. I care immensely about those closest to me and how my actions affect them and how my actions affect my greater global community. But I simply cannot live in fear of disappointing, or in hopes of being affirmed. I’m learning to affirm myself.

20140202-030314.jpgThere’s a line in Perks of Being a Wallflower, “I would die for you, but I won’t live for you.” It’s kind of like that. So for me it means talking about sex. And emotions. And love. And sometimes not talking at all. My womanness is swollen with pride she stores in her hips and thighs. I don’t need to apologize for that. I don’t need to feel ashamed of a need or want to be touched, cared for, adorned, or taken care of be it sexually spiritually emotionally all of the above or otherwise. I read this article yesterday titled, “All I really need is a good f*ck and someone to pick me up at the airport.” It was satirical yet honest and I wanted to share it but felt the shame pour over me as I considered what other people would think about me reading such things. I shared it with a few friends but felt disappointed in my inability to shake the Shoulds. Who is this person I’m supposed to be? What ideals am I living up to? Who am I really disappointing by silencing myself? This is who I am. Let me be her. All of here. Let me carry her where ever I should go.

If I’m making my own rules, my own path, my own way then let it start with that. No apologies. I’m tired of being sorry for shit I’m not sorry for. I’ve been telling the truth, my truth, more than ever lately. As I grow my evolution has been such a shedding. I don’t feel the same pull to protect myself. I feel more secure in who I am and strong enough to handle the consequences of my actions. And more than that, I want people around me who understand that, who understand that I love them but I love me, too. And who, in some way, are doing the same things: Working. Living. And throwing Emily Post out the damn window. Looking for joy in small cracks, dancing when the mood strikes, and having sex when the itch needs to be scratched.

And doing so without apology.

Lovers Love Jazz

I’ve loved Chicago since Darius and Nina.
Never smoked a cigarette, but I would if love and poetry called for it. Crisp white shirt and a soft worn leather jacket, dressed in twists and intrigue. Spill my soul on a mic to perfect strangers, tell them about him and us.

I haven’t craved a man since the last time I listened to jazz music. The unfamiliar pattern of comfort and knowing, jazz and love just fit. So tonight when I heard Cassandra Wilson and the nostalgia took over me, and like Sanchez I remembered love…I gave in. I smelled the smoke, heard the strum of the bass, and white words sticky with red surfaced. Chicago.

Carrie liked a melody. But Big…Big liked jazz. Its a warm hand on the small of your back. Its merlot and wine glasses with lipstick stains. Its old oak tables you made love on that once. Its a twelve minute song with six words and a chorus. Its pocket squares and high heels, kisses on your neck and hands in hair. Lovers know.

And in the recollection I allowed myself to solicit the universe. Send me, I asked, a lover of jazz. Of love. Of smoke and sanctuary. Of bass lines and scat riffs. Of dancing. Of crisp collard shirts and public displays. Of rainy nights and urgent kisses. Of natural light and endless talks. Of Nancy Wilson and Charlie Parker. Send him to me and I will love him and we will love jazz.

In vino veritas

The last few times I’ve gone out with my people here, inevitably one of the girls in the group finds a sir and decides to take him home.  Now, I’m not judging, but it always puts me in an awkward position because I am not sure whether to referee or let be.  Back home if any of my friends were to find a perfect stranger and take him home, there would be some major interference being run.  Sure we’ve gone home with exes, or current flings, but it is always someone familiar.

The thing that gets me is that maybe I’m just a prude.  I mean…one night stands and hook-ups are not exactly foreign in our culture.  And who am I to stand in the way of some xes?  I guess you just get nervous because I mean…you have the familiarity of about 2 hours with said person and you’re leaving your friend with them in a hope that their liquor induced state hasn’t completely impaired their judgement.  I figure it has to go like this…I have never gotten so intoxicated that I took home a stranger, not even close so as the saying goes, “in vino veritas” in wine there is truth. And if you’re doing it drunk, you’d do it sober (and the inverse…if you wouldn’t do it sober you won’t do it drunk).

So where does that leave me as a friend?  Honestly? Not wanting to be put in those situations again.  I never grew up with an idea of what 28 looked like or would hold for me, but I can definitely say being on the cusp of it that it will not include situations such as those.  If that makes me prude then oh well.  Drinking is cool…but I’d rather a wine than a vodka. Dancing is cool, but I’d rather a lounge than a club.  Going out is fine but I would prefer to be home by 10 and in bed by 11.  That’s just me on the edge of 27 ready to embark on my next big adventure: late twenties and undeniable adulthood.



Blog browsing the other night lead me to my friend Lucy’s latest post, “Take control of your body (naked part 3)” and her thoughts on sex, sexual health, and celibacy.  I found it  pretty ironic because a post about the latter had been marinating in my head for about two weeks.  I’d decided that I was done with it, sex that is.  I was done until I found the person I was going to marry (and we were on that path) for a variety of reasons but the main two being 1) I cannot afford to be irresponsible while I’m working towards this degree (selfish, yes but I’m owning my selfishness) and 2) It is way way WAY too taxing emotionally.  Just imagine if you can what sexual intimacy feels like for someone who can already feel people without even touching them?  Its a lot, and at this point in my life I have 0 interest in it.

I think, also, that I’m supposed to be focused right now on my relationship with God.  That’s the only way I’ve been making it lately, and that is not to say that I couldn’t do that and have sex (which for me would mean being in a loving, committed, monogamous relationship) but I am not willing to divide my attention right now.  When I feel differently I will make some changes.  I read recently:

The more an individual is capable of living alone, the more prepared one would be for an affectionate relationship.  Solitude is fine, being alone is not shameful. On the contrary, it dignifies a person.  Affectionate relationships are great, they are quite similar to being alone, if nobody demands anything from each other, then both may flourish. Relationships of domination and exaggerated concessions are things of the last century. (source)

I think about why Oprah told Barbara Walters she never got married, she said that she didn’t want to start expecting things, and with that title of husband comes a lot of expectations.  Whether we mean to expect or not.  I definitely got too expectant in my last relationship. I lost that sense of independence that I used to love about myself.  I don’t want to lose that again.  And I’m not willing to give pieces of myself away to randoms and that’s how I see casual sex.  So here we go down this road of celibacy, I suppose.  I haven’t thought twice about it being some great vow or some great statement.  But I suppose its a major one.   I’m worth waiting for, and definitely worth being earned.

Coloring :-/

I really miss coloring.

Nothing like a nice…crayon…to put a smile on a girls face.

Especially if you love the crayon.

I mean not saying that you have to love it.

Sometimes a girl just needs to color.

Just for the fun of it…

Gimme a capri sun and the occasional snack and I can color for hours.


I get to color this Christmas.

Color me excited.


…and don’t bring up finger paints-

its not the same.

I much prefer crayons.

Just sayin

NEVER?!?!?!?!?!?! EVERYTIME!??!?!?!!?!?!?

I’m gonna get slaughtered…

I’m a writer.

Its what I dooooooo (sorry)

Some news was brought to my attention a few weeks ago that disturbed me to my core. So much so that I’ve been polling people just to make sure I’m not the one that’s crazy. I’m not. Here’s the situation:

Boy meets Girl.

Boy and Girl fall in love.

Boy and Girl touch bodies.

Girl makes Boy pull out.

Boy proposes to Girl.

Girl *continues* to make Boy pull out.

Girl marries Boy.

Boy still pulls out of Girl.

Girl refuses birth control, Boy surely suffers.

Now… we’re all grown here right? So we can discuss this like grown-ups.  Is this ok? Futhermore….is this ok!?!?!?!?!  I mean NEVER?!?!?!?!?!? and EVERYTIME!?!?!?!?! ok ok ok ok…that one time you missed the pill, sure. After we say I Do though? EVERYTIME?!?!?!?! I can’t share my other commentary without either setting myself out, or setting out the parties involved so I’ll move on…

I thought about it today when I was reading The Top 5 Reasons You Need To Swallow and it was said:

And if you are rockin’ skin to skin without birth control, he still has to pull out and find somewhere to rest the kids. (Warning: You should only trust League of Cocksmen certified G’s to pull out.  Non-certified cats WILL impregnate you.) Just the split second it takes to make sure you’re all the way out and you’re not blasting off in her fresh perm or new sheets can take away from the sweet sweet esctacy of an orgasm.

My thoughts exactly…And the parties involved ain’t gonna wanna hear this but…something ain’t all right. There’s a story there, and I don’t need to know it…but trust me…there’s a story. Let me be a dude a WHOLE DUDE and my wife my WHOLE WIFE demand that… What  Taye Diggs say? “Today we’re celebrating My divoooooorce.” I kid I kid…sorta.

No denying

I was talking to a friend of mine today about sex…and in specific how you can’t deny what turns you on.  This came up innocently enough as I was discussing how Deeds is reserved in response. He’s a slow responder mainly because he’s so curious in nature. His curiosity is perhaps one of his top 5 defining qualities, as I see it in all aspects of his life.  Take a person who is aggressive in nature…its likely that if they are truly aggressive and not just pretending then when it comes to the bedroom that’s going to play out.  The dichotomy of the naughty librarian is interesting because its repression of desire. A librarian is innocent and demure by trade…quiet, and reserved. But then in fantasy she becomes a sexual enthusiast…and its likely she wants to be that way during the day but she is restricted by her career. Same for men in power…they are forced to be overly aggressive, outside the point of natural instinct but not beyond the perimeters of ability…so when it comes to getting down and dirty its almost like I’ve depleted my aggressive energy, just do it for me…submissive. And really even then, I wonder how submissive those men really are?  My guess is depending on their natural level of aggression, they’re going to submit to the point where the still feel they have control…if that makes sense. Kind of like, I’ll let you do what you want to me until of course I don’t want to. What contributes to how far one will go to get off though?  Hm…All I know is there’s no denying yourself when it comes to pleasure…the bedroom is the one place where lies just don’t fly.

…twice if I like it

I get a certified kick out of people saying what they won’t do.  Now…I’m not going to go into specific detail about my own personal wills and won’ts but I will say I’m not a fan of the word never…in general. I meannnn one just never knows. You might meet kind of the one and he might whisper some sweet nothings in your ear and…

The Next Thing You Know…

All I’m saying is…is it so bad to try SOME stuff once? You might like it. *pause* I can’t help but think of the episode of Sex and the City

I don’t know what I want. But I’m afraid if I don’t you’ll dump me. And if I do then I’ll be up the butt girl. Men don’t marry up the butt girl. Whoever heard of Mrs. Up The Butt?

Then you have friends like Samantha Jones…

Samantha: Front. Back. Who cares? A hole is a hole.
Miranda: Can I quote you?
Samantha: Don’t be so judgmental. You could use a little back door.
Charlotte: I’m not a hole.
Carrie: Honey, we know.
Samantha: Look, all I’m saying is this is a physical expression, that the body, well, it was designed to experience. And p.s., it’s fabulous.

I can’t say for sure…and don’t know that I would if I could…all I’m saying is…nobody ever died off once?

I choooooose you baby

Would you guys have a threesome? If you did…would you pull in somebody super duper hot, or somebody to make you look better? If you’re a chick would do want another guy or another girl? It seems like the ENTIRE world is down for the 3

Three is a charm
Two is not the same
I don’t see the harm
So are you game?

So for fun Deeds and I start discussing celebs and judging them on if we’d bring em in.  Kinda funny mainly because guy do-able and girl do-able is sooo vastly different. Kind of like how Jennifer Aniston is totally girl pretty but Angelina Jolie is guy pretty.  BTW Um J.Ani’s bod is white girl RIDICULOUS chick is stealth.  Anyway so I think after discussing for hours I think the only person we came up with was

Stacey Dash

We vetoed a LOT of people too…

  • Nia Long
  • Regina King
  • Beyonce

just to name a few…Fun little game…and BFFT swears to me that its the cool new thing and everybody’s doing it.  Well if Stacey Dash ever finds herself  in HoustAtlantaVegas…

…its the hotel lobby and…

Ok so SHHHH I’m supposed to be working as always, and let me go ahead and warn you guys that this is NOT a kid-friendly post. So I’m watching Regis and Kelly today and Mark is in for Reg.  I love when Kelly and her Hubby host because they’re so cute, and I’m seriously kind of waiting for Regis to keel over and errrrr….retire so that Mark can take his place.  Moving on so they were talking about an odd place they’ve had sex and the answer was “A hotel lobby in Capri.” Now….thats so hot. I immediately text Deeds and damn near booked a trip. (This, GOD, is why I don’t have a credit card).  But, incidentally Deeds and I want to travel to Capri !! Here’s the hotel that I picked:

Hotel Punta Tragara

And I looked all over the website but I have no clue what the lobby looks like…yeah I’m messy LOL…but now I feel like I have to have sex with my boyfriend in the lobby of the Hotel. MESSYYYY I don’t care I don’t care Kelly Ripa did it and so shall Iiiiiiiii.  Judge me all day long but if you sit there and tell me that you wouldn’t have sex with the man (or woman) you love in a beautiful location such as this, you are a damn lie. UMPH…yeah…*TDP bizness dance*