Category Archives: Random Thoughts

Years to Remember

Tomorrow is the day. The day my eighteen year old son graduates from high school and prepares to go to college in the fall. I knew this day was coming. I had eighteen years to prepare myself for this. But I didn’t know it would feel like this. I raised him to have leadership abilities and a mind of his own. He’s always had more freedom and responsibility than a lot of young men he knows. No curfews, but he never has stayed out too late. No restrictions, but he’s never been anywhere he shouldn’t be. He’s had every opportunity afforded to him that I could financially afford, and some that I made sacrifices for so that he could have the experiences anyway. He’s been able to travel a little bit, but I often wish there were more places I had been able to take him over the years. He’s never caused me any “trouble”. He hasn’t had any incidences that would have resulted in jail time; he’s never tried narcotics and decided on his own to remain abstinent for the time being. All things that I’ve had very frank discussions with him about but allowed him to also make his own decisions about. Needless to say, I’m proud of the decisions he made for himself. I’ve never had to come up with bail money, nurse a hangover or potential overdose and I’m not a grandmother at thirty-six years old.  

There were many people who constantly said that I didn’t know what my child was doing when I wasn’t around because “single mothers never do and they always think ‘not my child’ and their child is the first one in trouble”. I’m glad I can gloat and tell those people that they obviously didn’t know my child. They also obviously didn’t know me. I’m that young mother that believes in old school discipline. Although my son hasn’t had a spanking since he was seven years old, he has a very healthy fear of his mother. He knows the expectations are great and measureable as my son. He knows that major disappointments are not taken lightly and that failure is not an option. It has been instilled in him.

One thing I always tried to teach my son was that he didn’t have to personally make mistakes to still learn from them. Life is a teacher and when you look at other people’s lives, you can learn what not to do, if you want to. My son understood this it seems because he often tells me that he is going to try not to make certain mistakes in his life because he saw what it did to someone else. I’m not sure if my son has a celebrity “role model”. After all, so many of them don’t want to be “role models”. But I think a few of their experiences have educated my son as a young black man as to how this world will treat you if you are not careful. One moment they love you and place you on the highest pedestal because you are scoring touchdowns and three point shots. The next minute they are persecuting you, taking away your endorsement deals and dragging your reputation through the deepest puddle of mud that can be found. So thank you to Kobe Bryant, Michael Vick and countless others who showed my son what not to do.

My son hasn’t had the best relationship with his father, due to no fault of his own, or of mine. You can’t force someone to love you, support you and exemplify what you think a parent should be. All you can do, is do better when your chance comes around. I never spoke ill of my son’s father to him. I didn’t have to. It wasn’t going to benefit me in anyway to do so. It wasn’t going to improve the situation at all. So I was very mindful not to engage in those kinds of conversations or confrontations in my son’s presence. It didn’t always work, because his father likes drama and enjoys being the center of attention, even when it’s negative. But I did manage to be the bigger person 95% of the time, even when I didn’t want to be. As a result, my son learned for himself, without any influence from me, the type of man his father is, and isn’t. I intentionally removed myself from the equation so that I could not be blamed (by his father) for how my son feels towards him. Whether his father sees it that way, I do not know. I honestly do not care.

After eighteen years of many sacrifices on my part, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I gave up my goals for higher education. I gave up a modeling career. I gave up a size six body. I gave up many, many, many, many men. I gave up countless hopes and dreams of traveling around the world, sipping champagne and buying designer handbags. I gave up eighteen years of many other things so that I could nurture the life of another person. There were times during those eighteen years when the thought of what I could’ve had caused me to become very depressed, so much so that I was even hospitalized for depression at one time. I suffered from and recovered from a chronic illness. I’ve had major car accidents that I was blessed to walk away alive from. I’ve lost good jobs, had crap jobs and got better jobs. With every hardship and loss, my motivation was that I had to continue on for my son. I had to show him that although life knocks you down, repeatedly, you have to get back up and keep living. I had to show him what it was to be super. And in the process, I showed myself.

I don’t know what I’m going to do when my son leaves for college. What do you do when your best friend, your anchor, your reason for persevering daily goes away to explore the next phase of his own life? I don’t know. This is my first time having this experience. Hopefully, between now and then my career will catapult forward to the point where I’ll have my own radio show, a couple more books published along with the opportunity and finances to travel. Maybe I’ll even meet my Superman. I don’t know what will happen next. What I do know is that tomorrow signifies a new phase in life for me and my son. When the sun rises in the morning, it will mean one thing to him and something else to me. When the sun sets in the evening the same will also be true. And I promise that I will try not to cry all day.

I had many years to remember with my son. Eighteen years and nine months to be exact. That’s a lengthy investment. Now it’s his turn to go forth and be super. He can do it. I have the utmost belief in him. After all, he is Super Son.

Been There, Want That

We’ve all heard the term “been there, done that” in one form or another. It’s a shorter way of explaining to others that you’ve already had that experience previously. We all have a “been there, done that” associated with both good and bad experiences in our lives. Unfortunately, we usually say this when the experience was bad and one that we would prefer not to repeat again in our lives. My “been there, done that” is always connected to relationships with men. I have literally been in almost every situation imaginable. I’ve been in an abusive relationship, I’ve been lied to, manipulated and had my kindness taken for granted. I’ve been stood up, I’ve been let down and I’ve even had men attempt to break me down. I’ve been cheated on, I’ve been the other woman, and I’ve been one of many women.

Been there, done that.

The only experience I have yet to have has been that of the only woman. I’ve yet to experience the love, understanding, partnership and romance that I associate with having a healthy relationship.

Being me seems like a lot of fun to everyone on the outside looking in. I’m told I have “so much going for me” and people always want to know why I’m single. Although I’ve had some men who were less than stellar come into my life [and not last very long], I’ve also dated many very attractive men. I’ve traveled and had a lot of life learning that you can’t get in a classroom. I’m beyond book smart as a result and I’m proud to possess common sense and street smarts as well.  I have a fabulous wardrobe accompanied by a very sexy shoe collection. I’ve worked tremendously hard for everything I have; material, and intangible. And I’ve been told that one day I’m going to be an old lady with a bangin’ body. I’ve always had really great sex, but what I want to have is a really great love affair. I want that connection with just one man, for the rest of my life.

Being Super Woman is a lot of hard work. I have to always be “on” and “ready”. Some men can’t handle that. My beauty is natural, but requires some work on my part to maintain it. Some men feel I’m intentionally seeking too much attention and that makes them insecure when it comes to me. I want someone who can love and accept my most vulnerable self – the woman who wears no makeup, a t-shirt and just her panties around the house – and still find me beautiful and worthy of his heart, his time and his affection.

Ideally, I want someone I can go home to the Fortress of Solitude with and just be myself. I need someone that is capable of being my shoulder to lean on when I need them to be. Someone who supports me and my goals through the bright lights, photo shoots and public appearances, but also supports me when my feet hurt because of shoe-icide. I want a man who doesn’t have any fear of losing me because he knows he put in the necessary work to get and keep me in the first place. I want a man who is proud to let me shine and isn’t ashamed to tell the world he’s with me. I need a man who knows what being a man is about and has what it takes to play the role of Superman in my life story.

That’s what I want.

Until that day comes, I’ll continue to write this chapter in my life –  solo.

Not So Funny…Actually, It Is

I am always amazed at God’s display of humor in my life. This year has been a virtual roller coaster ride and it’s only May. Every step I take feels challenged by some drama, that ends up turning into a blessing. I’ve been through so much in the last few months and sometimes fear what’s yet to come. But God doesn’t give us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). So as my book sales of “The Goodie Bag” in paperback started to lag, I made a business decision that I knew I could live with. I decided to sale a Kindle Version. Now the book is available in three formats in less than six months. Yes, I said three. You didn’t know that was even possible, did you? Next I decided to put out a Kindle Version of my short story “The Pharaoh’s Throne” which is a story about a man who defies his parents instructions to take a wife and build his kingdom with her. It has a very unexpected ending.

The spirit of power, love and a sound mind guides me when I have the worst day ever and comforts me when it’s the best day yet. It allows me to joke about marrying my Steve Maddens because I’m still single, but reminds me that is only because my Superman needs his garden weeded in order to find me. When I feel lonely because so many of my friends are married or in committed relationships and I’m not, it restores my belief and faith in love, because they are an example for me that keeps my hope intact. When I want to give up this quest to build this brand, someone I’ve never met says that I helped them with my words. Moments like that are when I feel the arms of God wrap around me and tell me I am on the right track and he will carry me until I can walk again.

I know that I was built for greatness and success. I know that my talents and gifts were given to me to entertain, inspire, motivate and serve others in a multitude of ways. I know that what I have today is just a small fraction of what I will have in days to come. I often feel that I will walk this life journey without a partner, but I’m smart enough to know that I don’t get the last word on that. It takes a very special type of man to appreciate a woman like me, regardless of how many men have tried – and failed. I know that in my life, this is true: For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required: and to whom men have committed much, of him they will ask the more (Luke 12:48). God has breathed life into me, not once, not twice, but three times in my life. He’s given me opportunities that others haven’t been blessed with. And as a result, I have a lot of work to do and responsibility to uphold. I am not “allowed” to quit because there is more that is needed of me.

When things happen to me, I understand that many factors come into to play. Decisions I made, or didn’t make, people I’ve met that concluded their season, or had a specific reason, and the fact that God just has a sense of humor. Building of character in a human being is not an easy task. It’s not going to always be pretty. Sometimes it might even physically hurt. But when you can go through flames like I have, you grow. With that growth also comes wisdom. That wisdom gives you discernment. That discernment gives you peace.

As I think back on some of the things I’ve experienced (bad marriage, miscarriages, theft of my home/car, baby daddy drama, man troubles, everyone who tried to hinder my dreams, and countless other events), I giggle just a little bit. I giggle because I won. I giggle because I’m stronger, better and smarter because of everything I’ve dealt with. I giggle because those experiences have and will allow me to help others avoid or overcome similar situations in their lives.

I giggle because I remember when each of those things was happening to me, I was saying “God, this sh*t is not so funny.” But now in retrospect, actually, it is hilarious.

Miami Donkey

As I sat and watched the season three opening episode of “Basketball Wives” on VH1, my eyes widened as I got exactly what I sat down for: Irrefutable evidence that there are donkeys in Miami. In the hood, a donkey is a female who has a large behind or someone who is a complete idiot. In this case I’m referring to the latter definition. In the season opener we discover that during hiatus, Evelyn Lozada has decided to brand the term she so eloquently used against Tami Roman in the previous season – You’re a non MoFo factor, b*tch!  – and put it on t-shirts. I applaud Lozada’s entrepreneurial spirit and obvious attempt to get more people to know who she is. But here’s the problem. We already know she’s the jilted ex-fiancée of a former basketball player and now the fiancée of a professional football player who loves to brand himself so much he changed his last name to his jersey number (I didn’t see a ring on her finger. Tweet me if you did @BestSuperWoman), and we know she’s a hot mess. Isn’t that enough? Apparently not.

For awhile I honestly did think that Lozada was just misunderstood and was really probably a nice person once the cameras stopped rolling. Now, she seems more like a downright mean opportunist. She made the t-shirt decision when cameras weren’t rolling and for some strange reason she actually thought it was a “good idea”. Really? Only to a donkey. The now infamous quote is not one of endearment. It only has negative connotations. And to agree with Roman, Lozada was really the non MoFo factor, because she has never been a wife. I don’t want to say she’s just a glorified jump off, but she might be that, too. For her to then explain her decision to Roman, offer to give money to Roman’s foundation and then accuse Roman of being the reason people thinks she’s a home wrecker is very much donkey-like. Lozada obviously forgot that she put herself out for the world to judge when she told Roman she had slept with her husband while they were married. Once that information came to light last season, I looked at Lozada cross-eyed. Is she one of those women who only dates professional athletes? If so, that is also donkey-like. What’s interesting is that Lozada has the attention of one of the wealthiest men in sports right now and she met him on Twitter. That doesn’t happen in real life. Trust me on that.

I once tweeted Ochocinco and told him that he needed a woman who can cook. He’s always posting pictures of meals he’s eating at restaurants and fast food spots. I think he misunderstood me. I meant a woman who can cook in the kitchen, not through his bank account. But Ochocinco made his decision and he wants to be with her. Since Lozada’s adult life seems to have revolved around the success of the men she’s dated, I’d say she’s pretty lucky to have met him. But that’s not enough for her. Here’s what I discovered. Someone else has beat Lozada to making the t-shirts. I’m dead serious (see photo provided below). If she had really been smart she would’ve applied for the copyright to the phrase instead. That’s the difference between an entrepreneurial mind like mine and a donkey mind like Lozada’s.

Sometimes women as so accustomed to losing that they don’t know that they have already won. Lozada is attractive at her 35 years young (I’m older than she is), has money coming from somewhere because she’s carrying Hermes Berkin bags and Vuitton purses (Vuittons you can rent, but Berkins you cannot), financing a shoe store that makes me think of dessert where shoes cost $600 a pair, and she might actually make it to the alter this time. For some women, that’s the ideal life (both of my hands raised). Lozada’s decision to capitalize off of her quote that resulted in a very public, unscripted ass whooping is not a good business decision. It is donkey-like. Which goes to show that no matter how pretty someone is, or how much money they have, you can dress them up and put diamonds on them but they are still a jackass. Plus, her shirts aren’t even cute.    

this is the shirt that someone else has already made and marketed online for sale

 

(my fans know I rarely post more than one blog a day, but this had to be said.)

The Question

I hear it all the time. It’s the proverbial question that everyone asks me; men, women, older people, younger people. It’s the one question that I can’t escape no matter what I do. I’m not able to dodge this question regardless of the environment I’m in; day job, networking, the club, the grocery store, the hair salon. It is everywhere and when it is asked, I can’t not answer the question because it leaves a poor impression. I’m sure a lot of you are often asked this question also. “Why are you single?” I don’t know if you’re able to answer the question when some asks it of you, but I can. I know exactly what is wrong with me. I am not in denial about the person I am in any way, shape, form or fashion. I’m honest with myself above anything else. That is what allows me to be honest with the world.

Well, here is the honest answer to the question of why I am single. I am single because I am very particular about the type of person and relationship I want and need to have in my life and I have yet to meet a man that can meet or exceed those standards. I’m less superficial about physical appearance (men get older, lose their hair, gain some weight, but if he was good looking when I met him he will always be good looking if I love him) but I’m very particular about what I want from a man as a partner in life; spiritually, sexually, financially, and emotionally. He must be my friend, my lover, my confidant, my support system and my biggest fan. He must not be fearful of commitment, must be loyal and have a good work ethic. He must be willing and able to do for me the things that a man should do for his wife and know that as his wife I will return to him the same things. But that’s not the type of men I meet.

I meet men who want to be my lover, but have no interest in being my friend or confidant. I meet men who do not want to have a committed relationship with me, but have the audacity to think they can make demands on my time and energy. I meet men who don’t want a wife, but they want the benefits that should only be for a husband (The Goodie Bag). Then there are the men who have considerably less going for them than I have going for me. Their entire goal is to try to minimize me to make themselves feel better. They know that they are lacking, but instead of becoming better men, they try to make me think I’m less of a woman. NOTgoingtohappen.com. I know my worth, strengths, weaknesses and limitations. No person can ever make me feel like less than what God made me to be. At my age, I just refuse to settle for the BS that someone else wants to give me because they don’t think I deserve more. I want it all or nothing at all. If I can do things for myself, a man can’t come into my life and want to give me less.

Now, I may be nice in my dismissal of a man, because I am comfortable with myself so it’s not always necessary for me to “dog” a man out to get rid of him. There are other ways to make a man go away. One way is to be myself. I’m not the easiest person to get along with. I have high expectations of others (as I do of myself) and men often don’t measure up, so they run away. That is perfectly fine with me. If you can’t handle Super Woman, admit it and move on to someone you can handle. The first step to growth is to admit that you need it. Then, of course, I can get rid of a man by simply pushing the button.   

Now I know that I’m not perfect. But I do know this. I am a wonderful woman, for the right man. Some men have thought they were Mr. Right, but they were wrong.  If there is one man on this planet that is capable, able, willing, and strong enough to accept and love me as I am, with all of my personality quirks and idiosyncrasies, without trying to mold me into his Stepford wife or mindless concubine, he is my Superman. Where he is, I don’t know yet. I don’t even know for sure that he truly exists. But I do know that I would rather have a great love affair and relationship that I had to wait for, than settle for having a hot mess of a relationship because I didn’t want to be alone.

So until  my Superman arrives, I will continue to be the fabulous woman I am and work on making myself better for him.  He’s probably somewhere right now, wondering where I am, and working to make himself better for me also.

This Type of Stuff Happens Everyday

I just got back from dinner with a friend and his son. During the course of dinner the son and I have a conversation in which I disclose that I have the tendency to Google a man I meet (amongst other things to make sure that he’s not a criminal, sexual predator, pathological liar, sociopath or many other things that make you run away screaming). I make this a habit whether a man is well known or unknown; whether I meet him in public or via Internet (which is a rarity for me to do in the first place). Then I began to tell him about some of my past encounters with men I’ve met in public that make Internet dating seem like a breeze.

 
This past weekend a male friend of mine and I went clubbing and drinking. After the club, we went to a local burger spot notable known as Fuddruckers. When we walked in, we were immediately noticed. I don’t know if it was the tight, red dress I was wearing or what. I don’t try to figure that stuff out. But there were a lot of men there and most of them were without women. That doesn’t happen very often at all.  Usually there are a lot more women than men and the men are all with a woman. I picked up my order and sat at a table towards the back of the restaurant with my friend. My friend excused himself for a moment. He wasn’t gone for five solid minutes before “it” happened. The thing that happens so often it is no longer very funny.
The ugliest man in the entire room walked over to me and asked me if I was there with anyone. I immediately said “yes” and he asked again, I suppose to make sure he heard me correctly but this time asked if the person I was with was a man. I again answered “yes”. He then complimented me on my appearance and dress and sat down behind me. I guess he was waiting to see if I was lying to make him go away. Had I only wanted him to go away, I would’ve just told him I was celibate the second he looked at me (as referenced in “I Found The Button“).

“Lord, Jesus”, was all I could think once I got a full scan of this man. He stood a little above my shoulders while I was seated, smelled of several packs of cigarettes and had the teeth to confirm. His hair was not cut, clothes were not clean and he was unshaven. Had I not known better, I would’ve thought he was a homeless man that had wandered in off the street. Just then I got a text from my friend asking if I was okay. I asked him  to hurry up and come back to the table.
The one thing I noticed immediately out of my peripheral, was that all the men that had been ogling me from the time I had walked in were paying attention to this man’s attempt to approach me. They were quawking as if they were watching a live episode of a reality show featuring naked women fighting. Seriously. So as I’m writing this, seated at my computer, completely topless (TMI – I know), I began to wonder: Why do the most unattractive men think they stand a chance with a very attractive woman? And why don’t the attractive men in the room go after that woman for themselves?

Me being the person that I am, I never like to crush a man’s dreams to absolute nothingness. Just because he isn’t the man for me, it doesn’t mean he isn’t the man for someone else. Some women might gladly want a fixer-upper. I prefer my men already assembled and fully loaded with only routine maintenance required. The men watching soon turned back to the entertainment elsewhere in the room. But even after this man’s obviously failed attempts, no one else (more attractive) approached me. Was he a sentinel sent by the other men to find out if I was single? Or is he from an alternate universe where all the pretty girl’s have low self esteem? I seriously want to know. Why do less attractive men aim so high? Is it because they believe in keeping hope alive? Do they think pretty girls will have sympathy for them and give them their phone number? What exactly is it?

Attractive men often ask my for my phone number and sometimes never call at all, but the most unattractive men, along with the ones who just got out of prison and had been there nearly 20 years (I could tell by the Cross Colours outfit and Members Only jacket) or the ones that say “I like freaks” on their Facebook bios are quick as hell to approach me and would probably call if I were foolish enough to allow them. They would probably call me daily; several times a day even. I once read an article that said that women who date men less attractive than themselves have better relationships because less attractive men work harder at being attentive and pleasing. The article referenced mega-geek Bill Gates and his very attractive wife as an example. Here’s what that article was missing and failed to inform all the single women it was geared to:

Bill Gates is highly intelligent and ambitious, which resulted in him becoming a ga-zillionaire. Bill Gates is a “geek” but he obviously doesn’t have poor hygiene. The only fixing that he required was probably teaching him how to wear a suit every now and again. He didn’t require an entire system overhaul.

 
I personally love an intelligent man, with self confidence, and ambition. If he has those elements mixed with height over six feet tall, a great personality, a good sense of humor, business acumen and financial stability he stands a bigger chance with me than a man who is just nice to look at. He gets bonus points for being able to cook well, play a musical instrument and the ability to give a good massage. But if he doesn’t have any of those qualities and he smells bad, is shorter than I am, and obviously only out to try to get “some”, he stands no chance at all. Truth is this, whether women want to admit it or not (and I know I’m not alone when I say this), money and power makes men sexier than their faces actually are any day of the week. But men, if you aren’t bringing the intellect, power, money, and everything else that will make a woman overlook that Crypt Keeper face, please stop aiming for the Super Woman in the room.  

This is a true story. I said once before, my not so ideal life makes for better fiction. I couldn’t make this up if I really wanted to.