A.D.I.D.A.S

It is I and I am back. Well almost. Most of me is still laying on my be d at this very moment dreaming about standing on a rooftop in Brooklyn while Mos Def raps to me about the state of Black America, the state of our love and The State night club in Miami Beach. The rest of of me is here in front of the computer trying to figure it all out. Trying to figure out the fact that Terry "Waiting to Exhale" McMillian married a gay man 23 years her junior and found out he was gay the day after Christmas (6 years later)!! How do you think it happened? Do you think as a surprise she called Queer Eye for the Straight Guy to re-do his garage and when Carson walked in he said "Name Changes! Name Changes!! We need Name Changes! After seeing your Husband Ms McMillian, we're re-naming your book How Carson got his Grove Back!! Also the show will now be known as Queer Guy for a Straight Girl!!". Or did he leave her note by her bedside that said "There's a surprise waiting for you in the closet. Love Jon". When she went to the closet, slowly opened the door, Jonathan jumped out saying "It's me, it's me and I'm out and I'm free!" According to several reports from those who watched their interview on Oprah, the love doesn't seem to be in the closet. Neither is the physical desire for each other. But is it sex or physical intimacy that they are desiring from each other. He obviously wants to have relations and relationships with men. But is what they had deeper then that? Is it possible that at the end of all this they both just wanted to be held. And not just held to be held but to be held by Love. And they did love each other, at one time.

And now that I have said that, here's my concern. Is this the new fate of all women? Do we have to settle for sharing? Isn't it bad enough we gotta share jobs, houses, booths at crowded Miami Subs, and the elevator?? Do I have to share a man too? Let's be honest when we go to a social environment with a man, aren't we secretly checking out every other woman in the place to see what she got going on? And don't we do it regardless of the women's ethnicity, marital status, weight, attire and height? Now we have to add Men to the CSI mission too. Damn I'm never gonna get to dance or eat or tour the setting in peace. I need some Six Million Dollar Man type Vision. Who's got that type of money (I know Oprah does, but do you think she worries about Steadman when they go out? Yeah she does.)? And as much as I swear my Gay-Dar is on tight and always working, who knows for sure anymore. Look at that dude on the Real World, I seriously thought he was gonna bring home one girl after another into that house in Philly, WRONG. So what are we to do ladies? Do like Harpo Productions does or MicroSoft does or Starbuck does. Research. Those three are some of the best companies to work for but they don't just hire any body. They make you jump through some serious hoops before they say "You're Hired (don't I say it better than Donold?). They do everything from drug test, background checks, reference checks and credit checks. We should do the same and I don't been going through his e-mail or cell phone phonebook or looking under his sofa cushions. It means watch him. Pay attention to him and his actions and interactions. I'm not saying that Terry didn't pay attention but she obviously look over some things but like I said maybe she wanted to overlook those things. So my advice to you ladies: Pay attention and listen. My momma always said you learn alot more when you open your eyes and ears and keep your mouth shut.

Recap of today's lesson:

If a man knows of and wear's MAC Lipglass he may not be into you, he may be into the guy next to you. But if you're ok with that and just want to be held at night by him, you may have found a new best friend.

Put that Where? Back there!

Thomas Jefferson was obviously delusional when he invented the telephone as a way of communication and keeping those far away from each other close. Because experience has taught me that the actual purpose of a telephone, is a weapon. Not in the heard-a-bump-in-the-night-let-me-throw-it-at-someone sort of weapon, but the “How can I hurt you so badly yet not touch you?” type weapon.

There are people that I know who seem to believe that the phone only rings but it doesn’t dial out. At least that is what I think they believe because they couldn’t possibly purposely decided that they won’t call me to see how I am doing yet claim that I have decided not to call because I have some sort of problem with them. That thinking does seem a little strange. Or the other people that I know, who I leave messages for yet they decided that just because they say they care (or did they?) that doesn’t mean they have to return the calls (whether I was calling because Wilma had knocked out my power or just to vent my frustration over the fact that the BEAUTIFUL Bre was beat out by PASTY Nicole). It’s better to let me sweat and worry that maybe I said something in our last conversation or maybe my breath stinks, and it stinks so badly that they can actually see green smoke coming through their phone when I am speaking to them . Or maybe just maybe they are not the people I thought they were and I am just a bad judge of character (could that really be it?). And lastly there are those people I know. We have no problem with each other, when we see each other it all daisies and just when I’ve just recapped everything that has gone on for the last 30 days they say it, the one thing that drives me over the edge – “So you can’t call nobody?”. That's when I have to say “Did you lose your fingers in a bad gambling debt pay back program? Did big Baby Boy Bruno come to your house and remove all you fingers one at a time? Because your number never came up on my caller id either!”

The last one is usually well intentioned and for the most part I understand where they are coming from and I don’t hold anything against them. But the first two have and do continue to cause me pain. The first one causes me pain because they seem to believe that my intent was to hurt them and well since obviously I’m not that important in their lives it’s best to dismiss me and then explain that our lack of communication is my fault. If they cared to find out why our communication has fizzled and wanted to know why they would call and ask why. But they don’t. When I try to rectify the situation myself they usually end up in category 2, I call they don’t respond. I even e-mail, nothing. Are they trying to tell me something? Also in category 2 are people who I never thought had a problem with me. It seems that one day they just decided “You know, enough of this Thania chick. I have to ignore her calls, voicemails, e-mails and text messages (I know I sound like a stalker but really I’m not). I can’t say she did anything to me I just don’t want to talk to her anymore." And just like that it ends. With no warning, no loud black girl argument that contains lots of references to 'yo mama' and 'that's why you ugly', and no returning of the curling, shoes and other borrowed items -- it's over. Ouch!! There's that damn phone again.

Now, am I being to sensitive? Possibly but I reserve the right to be. I may not be top of the list when it comes to promptly returning calls but I try and I do acknowledge the missed call when I do speak to the caller. So of course I have to find a resolution to this situation. Because it just isn't healthy to dwell on it for so too long. So here it is: For those in Categories 1 & 2: You win, I get the message, the writing is on the wall, I can take the hint, all that. I will not call anymore (or e-mail, text, leave messages, stop by - seriously I am not a stalker). I will leave you alone and we will all go one to live very productive, happy and fabulous lives.

For those in Category 3: You can't call nobody!!

Things that make you Say Hmmmmm . . . . . . . . .

In preparation of Tropical Storm/Hurricane Katrina and me slowly getting back to blogging (hey, according to Maxx people are getting fired from work for blogging-article to follow in future posting), here are some questions to ponder, research and just make you say DAMN IT, she's right!!

• Why do so many hip hop artists sport Jesus pieces, when you think to yourself, “there is no way this cat is demonstrating any kind of spirituality”? (any fill in the blank rapper, not true MC)
• Why does Destiny’s Child have so many mixed messages in one album? (“Soldier” to “Cater to You”)
• Why do we as fans want underground artists to get recognition and success and then hate on them when they get the very thing we’ve been praying for them to have? (Talib Kweli & Black Eye Peas)
• Why do we automatically assume that people with dreads do not eat pork, or live poor, veggie lifestyles?
• When is R. Kelly going to trial? (shouts to the missing witness/participant)
• When is the gub-mint going to seriously encourage the big automakers to make fuel alternative cars? (Shouts to the Honda Civic "Ms. Roxanne")
• Why are we not getting the real real on the Israeli pullout of the Gaza Strip? (shouts to a potential reduction in the Israeli/Palestinian conflict)
• Why does Bush seem to like nominees that no one supports and will not let have a full disclosure of their background checks? (shouts to Bolton and John Roberts)
• When is R. Kelly going to trial? (if for nothing else, that in the closet song)
• Why are the same 10 songs being played in the backwoods towns from the 1980’s? (shouts to Lionel Richie and Billy Ocean)
• What was Bow Wow thinking? (shouts to the hair and the lyrics)
• Why do some families treat each other worse than people they don’t like? (shouts to…you know who you are)
• Are videos still that important? (Hate Mariah's "We Belong Together" song, saw the video still hate the song)
• When will we realize that sometimes the fight is more important than the win? (shouts out to Cindy Sheehan and voting rights marchers)
• Based upon the passion of the participants, wouldn't it be cool to see Fantasy Football League Commissioners and Team Owners try their hands on the real thing? (they couldn't do any worst with Terrel Owens)
• Why do some cities stink when you drive through, AND you have the windows rolled up? (shouts out to….south GA, Central FL and sorry North Florida)
• Why are the Neptunes so much better than N.E.R.D.? (shouts to “She wants to move”)
• Does it really matter how old Free is? Aren't the guys really looking at her ass and the girls at her shoes?
• When is R. Kelly going to trial? (no seriously, I need to know)
• Why, after a solid 10 years, are we STILL stuck in the bling era? (shouts out to all Jesus piece wearers)

I 'm back. I'll try to write more frequently and maybe Valerie won't complain to much.

Thanks to Kinetic and ATL LowDown

No Stone left unturned.

Some time ago I wrote an entry titled "Papa was a Rolling stone" in reference to my father (how strange to use that term). I write today to thank all of you for your advice and words of wisdom and also to let you know that on Wedenesday, June 22nd of this year he died. After speaking to many of you and after a spiritual inventory taking on my part I had decided to contact him and let him know that I was hurt by his absence in my life. I had made a decision but not acted upon it. So the opportunity to do it face to face was gone . I can't begin to explain to you the emotional roller-coaster that I have been on. I have to admit that I myself am shocked by my reaction. I expected to simply move on with my day as if I heard that someone else's father had passed, I would feel sympathy for everyone involved but would move along with my day. That is not what happened. I found myself in my bed, under the covers, behind locked doors. I cried. More than I cried over a broken heart. More than I cried over happy moments. More than I cried over failed friendships. I cried for the missed opportunity to say things I had always wanted to say and to finally see the man I was told that I got my smile from. The man who's temper I have. The man who didn't remember that my first name is Thania and not Martine. I cried because I am angry. Angry that even in his dying he had won the battle between us. I still cry.

I found out at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday, June 25th that not only had he died but that his funeral was at 11:30 a.m. that day. For all the isht I talked about, the red suit and the hat with the veil, I didn't go. I couldn't go. I wanted to be that phenomenal woman he had never known and I wasn't prepared to be that, on that day at that time. So I stayed home and cried. I made calls to various friends (to all who answered thank you) where I know the conversations consisted of me rambling and trying my best to convince them that I was not at all affected by his death (they knew I was). I am not over it, I am not sure I ever will be. But I do know it's changed me, in ways I already know and in ways to be discovered. I have already said many things to him and know that there are many more but I also I need to let him go so that he can let me go.

"The beauty of life is, while we cannot undo what is done, we can see it, understand it, learn from it and change. So that every new moment is spent not in regret, guilt, fear or anger, but in wisdom, understanding and love. "

Jennifer Edwards

What had happened was . . .

O.K. Maybe I am not as aware as I would like to think, but am I the only one that was not offended by the comments of Mexico's President Vicente Fox. He stated that Mexicans took jobs, "that even blacks would not do," but isn't that the truth? I lived in Atlanta for nearly two years and I saw Mexicans standing on corners in the cold looking for jobs. I saw them working construction, as janitorial staff, shoveling snow in the winter and cutting lawns in the summer. I am sure there are tons of other jobs that they did/do that I have no idea exist and I am sure that some of these jobs would be considered demeaning. But does that mean that "even blacks won't do them"? Well doesn't that statement say it all, because if its available to do then NOBODY'S doing them. Not just blacks. How come he didn't say whites aren't doing them (I know why and so do you but for argument sake I'll put that in there), Asian immigrants aren't doing them, middle-easterners fleeing for their lives aren't doing them. No he said Blacks, I read Blacks and you read blacks. But if you think about it, for him to mention that "even blacks would not do" should be seen as a reference to our contribution to this country.

In it's founding years Africans were brought to this country for purely economic reasons. Yes, the sole purpose of the Middle Passage was money. Later on Africans as well as natives from Caribbean countries were brought into this country as bodies for the front line. Through all of this they built this country. The built it with inventions, educators, scientists and with their own two hands and strong determination. All the while raising families and building communities. This work was not rewarded with the lucrative, prestigious job offers, but at times the most degrading and the most demeaning. Blacks have had to DO some of the most disgusting jobs in the name of feeding their children and keeping their eyes on the prize. That is OUR reputation and we are not ashamed of it. But let's be honest that is no longer the norm. I know, I know the children of Caribbean parents are about to riot after reading that but I have to take side with them. Caribbeans (especially in South Florida) are most often the ones to DO the jobs of the cleaning and janitorial staff. But let's keep them out of this argument for now. I know (and you know) a lot of "Black-Americans" that find that certain jobs are beneath them and will not do them regardless of how much they need the money. They feel they shouldn't have to. That is their right. It is also the right of Mexican immigrants to take those jobs if they are available. Does that make Blacks lazy? No, I don't think so. Does it make Mexicans superior? Not in the least. Those who are protesting and boycotting (a task that requires a lot of strong will and work invented by Blacks in America) are giving President's Fox's comment more validity than necessary.

It brings to mind another point. How are Americans going to dictate how the President of another country addresses his citizens? He said it, we heard it and he meant it. We told him some people found it offensive, he said that's not how he meant it and he's sorry. So now we want to vilify him? Do we have the right? Look at who our President is?

I am not diminishing anyone's feelings nor am I dismissing any opinions but I just think that we are losing focus on what's really important. Let's not get caught up in the Media Hype, because that's what this is. Public Schools do not have enough resources, teachers do not get paid enough and although the cost of living keeps going up my paycheck isn't. Shouldn't Al sorption and Jesse Jackson be mad at that. Shouldn't they be on television saying how disgusting it is that a two-income family with two kids can't afford to live in a house big enough to house them?

So if I get a free trip to Mexico I am going. If I am hungry and the nearest place is a Mexican restaurant, I'm eating. If a fine Mexican man smiles at me I am smiling right back. But if I turn on the television and see either Al sorption and/or Jesse Jackson talking about anything that is not in the least helpful to the state of Black America today then honey, I am popping Napoleon Dynamite into the DVD player!!

That's just what I'm sayin'.

Papa was a rolling stone

What is it about the relationship between a daughter and her father? Why is that single relationship the foundation for every other relationship a woman has with a man. My sperm donor (as I affectionally refer to him) and I don't speak, hell I have never even seen him in my entire life. I could have past him on the street and never knew it was him. He and my mother were married and had 3 children before I came along. When I was 2 months old in a drunken and drugged stupor he left me in a car in an alley next to a liquor store. He left for good when I was 6 months old. And as a child I used to think that the mere sight of me had driven him away. I must have been ugly, why else would he have left after 3 perfect boys and just six months of me?

As a child I hated to wear skirts (my how times have changed), mostly because I was born with a birth defect that didn't allow for my legs to be straight (think Kermit the Frog), the doctor's said something about the muscles and bones in my legs not developing properly. So I wore leg braces (think run, Forest, run) for most of my childhood. I use to think that he couldn't stand looking at his daughter's frog legs and had to run. You see the things that go through the mind of a child. Never did I think that this was his issue. Something he had to work out. I believed it was me. And for the better part of my life I thought that any man who left my life, I was to blame. My brothers were being raised by the sperm donor's sister in a lifestyle one could only trully have in Haiti. He called them on their birthdays and on holidays, he knew them. Every summer when we would get together (my brothers and I) they would talk about their father and all the things he had done for them. They spoke as if he was someone completely detached from my DNA. As if he and I didn't share the same smile or the same temper. As if the fact that we shared the same last name was purely done out of politeness.

All this pain didn't come into my life until I was around 7 years old. I had a step-father who I had no idea was my step-father until then. This man was great to me. He was an Americanized Haitian who taught me about Earth, Wind & Fire (the musical group as well as the elements), Teddy Pendergrass (he looked so much like him) the importance of never letting anyone know how much money really have and how this new type of music taking over (Rap) was something I needed to pay attention to. Anyway, one day when I was 7 and at my Evil Aunt Margaret's house and bragging about my Daddy, she yelled at me in the most melacious way she could that he wasn't my father. Couldn't I tell by the big nose that he could never be related to me she said. I was devastated. But I kept it in until I saw him, then I cried like I new born baby. I told him what she said and later that night I remember my aunt calling my mom to complain about my Daddy and how he had come over with a baseball bat and destroyed her house. That's when the questions started. And the pain crept in.

One day when I was 14 years old, my step-father came home with a newborn baby girl. He told me that she was his daughter. All I could think of was obviously I wasn't good enough. That he had finally seen in me what the sperm-donor had and decided he needed to get a daughter of his own. One that wasn't defective. Six months later we moved to Miami. It was suppose to be the three of us, my mom, my dad and I. He came to Miami two weeks after my mother and I got here and left two weeks later with a promise to be back in two weeks. It's been a long two weeks.

How is it that you all can make babies and not be fathers. Don't get me wrong I know alot of men who have done what they were suppose to do and been fathers to their children but unfortunately you all are a rare breed My life has been full of hurt, some you know about and some I think I'll take to the next life but in all honesty I blame him for them. If he were present in my life maybe the hurt wouldn't have been so bad, maybe I wouldn't have cried so much and maybe just maybe I wouldn't blame myself when it didn't work out.

My mother and I had an argument last week because I told her when the sperm donor dies I would go to his funeral in a red Christian Dior suit, red fish net stocking, red high heels and a red and black wide rim had with a black lace veil covering my face. My mother is worried about what people will say. I say screw them because none of them ever told him what he was doing was wrong so how dare they tell me I'm wrong. Did I mention that he lives in Miami and has for just as long as I have.

There's no specific reason for this particular entry maybe it's age, maybe it's death and maybe I just needed to let it out that this particular situation hurts me. Hurts me in a place that's no where near my heart. Somewhere that's bigger than my heart. I cried last night because for the first time in a very long time I needed a father to handle a problem and I realised I didn't have one. And I cried even more.

Can anyone tell me how to get over this?

Who loves ya, baby??!!

A friend told me the other day that really statistically speaking only 50% of the people you know like you. And if you know me, those really aren't bad odds. I know a lot of people, and I refer to a lot of them as friends but should I really? I have a friend that has known me since I was 7, my friends from Junior High, friends from both North Miami and North Miami Beach Sr. High, friends from from FIU, friends from Atlanta and from Georgia State University, friends I've met through other friends and friends I've met from different jobs. But in the past 2 years or so I have found that its the ones I forgot I had or the ones that came along recently that have molded me into the person I want to be. And to these people I offer today, on an ordinary Wednesday, these words of love and thanks (just because):

To my Brooklyn Friend: You are the only person that I can say knew me when and has the pictures to prove it. Our friendship has lasted through distance and time. And no matter when we speak it's like we saw each other yesterday, we just pick up where we left off. Thank you for showing me how great it is to be a part of a family and letting me know that I am a part of one.

To Eddy's Little Lady: The one person who has proven to me that first impressions aren't always the best impressions. We've been through it all together and can always enjoy sitting back and reminiscing on them. If I think I can do it, you've always known I could do it. Thank you for believing in me and making me realize that "I can't do it" is something other people say.

To the Lady in The Big House: I call you this because you let me come right on in. No questions, no attitude, you just asked how you could help and you did - over and over and over again. And I can't thank you enough for that. Life has taken us in different paths recently and yet it's taken us to the same place. Be strong, play nice with the other kids and just watch your blessings come rolling in.

To P. Diddy (and her crew): I know, and You know that everyone knows your pretty, but I know that you are beautiful--inside. You are the one person who made me look in the mirror and realized that I was beautiful and that men don't always know the true beauty of a woman. You taught me how to take a compliment and believe in it. Thank you.

To my Revolutionary Friend: Who knew such a small person could be so loud, be so opiniated and have so much attitude? Where do you keep it all? In your spirit I guess. You taught me to look at everything from a different angle. You taught me the power behind getting the whole story and you taught me that sisters are a wonderful thing. Thank you for making me feel important in your life and teaching me that sometimes attitude is necessary.

To my Diva Friend: What can I say about you that DIVA doesn't already say. You taught me that life is about happiness, to do what makes me happy because I won't be here for long. That a strut is not just a walk but an opportunity to take it all in and to enjoy the moment. Thank you, for more than you know.

To my Mocha Latte Friend: This Entry is dedicated to you. To the you that worries that maybe your not deserving enough of your blessings, to the you that's scared sometimes about your future, to the you that asks me my opinion-defends your position-then rejects my opinion all together. To the you that has become one of my closest friends, I say that I am here for you and so are many others in your life. Thank you for being my friend and setting me straight when I needed it and then using it in a joke later. Cause you know I'm crazy!

TO THE MEN and yes there are some:

To Grim: Thank you you for letting me know that there are some good guys out there. That men can just be your friend, doesn't mean they don't think your cute, but they're honestly and sincerely your friend.

To the former President of the P.E.P. Committee: Thank you for showing me that a boy can become a man and leave all his childish ways behind him. You've changed in so many ways and I have to say I am proud to have witnessed it. Too bad about the P.E.P. Committee breaking up, though.

To PEPO: You have shown me how a brother should be to a sister. I may have three biological brothers but you are the only true brother I know. Remember you promised if I ever walk down the aisle, you'd walk it down with me.

To Jaquan: You taught me life is not fair sometimes. You get hurt, people use you but you move on. And maybe, hopefully, you find out what type of person you are in the process.

To Baggab: Thank you for getting it, for getting me. Thank you for talking to me like one of the boys but never forgetting that I am all woman. Thank you for understanding the power of just listening even when it seems like I'm not saying anything.

To my Amico Fidato: That says it all. I have trusted you with it all. Secrets, heartbreaks, insecurities and through it all you've listened and only offered advise when I asked for it. If only you could teach a class on "Being a good husband 101: the good and the Bad". Thank you for being my friend and teaching the true meaning behind "not all those who look like you are after your best interest, and it's those who at first glance you think you have nothing in common that will be there to catch you when you fall".

No I am not dying, not tomorrow anyway, but why wait to say what I feel in my heart today, right now. Don't worry, tomorrow back to the cynism.

What's up with the Bullshit!!!

I made a nice, quiet, in my heart promise to myself; that I would not let this become a forum for male-bashing. But guess what? Some promises, you gotta brake. To any body who is related to a male, in a relationship with a male, works with a male, is a male, hell if you have ever seen a male, this is for you and for them. Send them this link and ask them for me, make me understand: What's up with the bullshit??

I have a friend, Jahnicka (all names have been changed to protect the innocent), and in this ever changing world we live in decided that she would like to see what the internet dating world had to offer. She met a guy named Cleophus in October and after some e-mails they exchanged contact numbers. For the next couple of months Cleophus and Jahnicka talked on the phone consistently. They find that they have so much in common, a love of sports, a strong sense of their spirituality and the desire to be in a committed, loving relationship. Cleophus works the 3rd shift (11 p.m. - 7 a.m.) and therefore most of their conversations take place at night before he goes to work or during the weekends. This schedule also prevents him from seeing her (mind you he lives in Winston Salem, NC Total Est. Time: 1 hour, 25 minutes Total Est. Distance: 79.03 miles away from Charlotte, NC). So they continue to communicate through e-mails, instant messages and phone conversations. Christmas, New Years and Valentine's Day all come and go during the next six months and things seem to be progressing nicely. While reading his profile in March 2005 she realizes that he has updated it to say that he is currently in a relationship (and trying to be faithful) and is using this web site purely to chat and pass away time (I know what you're thinking but no it just can't be) and is not looking for a relationship. One day during a conversation with Cleophus, Jahnicka mentioned (and I do mean mentioned, not questioned, not interrogated) to him that she saw his updated profile. He stated that he was getting e-mails from very aggressive women and funny enough from some guys, so he said that so they would leave him alone (sounds good enough). Alls good, life goes on. Well on Sunday(this past Sunday) in a conversation, in which he stated that he couldn't wait to talk to her, over the phone he told her about how he enjoyed that fact that they got along so well and that she could possibly be wifey material. Seems nice, tugs at the heart strings doesn't it? Well, here is where the bullshit comes in to play. At 3:00 p.m. on Monday (yes, yesterday) Jahnicka gets a call from Cleophus. He leaves a message stating that he has to speak to her, as she is listening to the voicemail another call from him comes through. It goes something like this:

Cleophus:

Ah, hi Jahnicka.

Jahnicka:

Hey, Cleophus. What's up.

Cleophus:

Ah, has a girl name Codesca, called you.

Janicka:

No, I don't know a Codesca.

Cleophus:

Ah, yeah, cause she has your number.

Janicka:

Why does she have my number? I don't know Codesca? How did she get my number?

Cleophus:

Ah, I don't know? I don't leave my cell phone lying around.

Jahnicka:

Cleophus, who is Codesca?

Cleophus:

Ah, she's, um, how do I say this? Well, she's my girlfriend.

Jahnicka:

What?!? (in a low assertive voice because she is at work and she will not be the loud black girl)

Cleophus:

Yeah. I really want to be honest and straight forward with you.

Jahnicka:

Ok. How long have you had a girlfriend?

Cleophus:

Well, she was my ex-girlfriend but we got back together.

Jahnicka:

So, how long have you two been together?

Cleophus:

Ah, we've been together since about (please refer to entry titled "Back Track") January. You don't understand I love her, I gotta make this up to her. I mean I really owe it to her, I really love her. I gotta make this right.

Jahnicka:

Good luck with that. CLICK!

Now there is so much more to that last telephone conversation then what is here but I am sure that you all have some work to be doing. But you get the point. Six months. Six months of late night conversations, messages just because he was thinking about her, six months of "I really want to see you" and six months of pure bullshit. Why? Why do guys do it? He could have told her at Christmas: "Hey, Jah Merry Christmas! I gotta girlfriend." He could have told her during New Years: "Happy New Year Jahnicka! I gotta girlfriend." He could have told her on Ground Hog's Day: "Damn girl, six more weeks of winter! I gotta girlfriend." But no he wasted her time and her anytime minutes with this bullshit!! Guys, why is it so hard to be upfront? How do you know she's not after a little ass, too.

He says:

"Listen girl, I'm really feeling you but I gotta girl."

She says:

"Oh that's cool, I'm not looking for a relationship anyway. I'm just trying to enjoy myself"

What's the worst that can happen? That she'll say that and in some way make you feel a little punked. Oh no, if she wants to hit it she obvioulsy has something she's trying to give away. Oh no, she's too aggressive. Better I lie and manipulate her ass. Or maybe she'll say she's not with it and walk way. Oh my god, can you believe it some woman walked away from you! What the hell was she thinkin?? Suck that shit up!! You got a woman! How many do you need? How many women have to line up from the tip of your dick for you to feel like a man? I know a guy who was messing with his ex-girlfriend for a little over year, and the whole time he had a girlfriend. Did he tell the ex? Nope!! Did he tell the current girlfriend? Nope!! Then just like Cleophus, suddenly become honest (or brave as he referred to it) when the ex-girlfriend found out. Women call men dogs not because they sleep around but because they are stupid enough to chase their own tails. Yall are ignant! I told my friend that when he told her that he loved his girlfriend that she should have said " I love her too. And I don't want our relationship to built on a foundation of lies, so when she calls I'll just have to tell her the truth." But she can't do that because then she'd be deemed as some kind of Crazy Bitch.

What is it that prevents you from being honest? The list of questions that women have to ask a men when you first meet thems gotten longer a little more specific:

Do you have any children?
Do you live with your momma?
When getting head do you discriminate? Do you like looking down and seeing a fro work the magic sticks that's not attached to breast?
Have you ever been in jail? Do you miss the guys there and want to go back?
Have you ever hit a woman?

But the number one question has always been: DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND? Why are so many good women single? For the same reason that Lifetime Channel is so popular. We can't trust men. Now I know not all of you men are like that but all of you are part of the penis carrying club and unfortunately for you membership has it's priviledges.

Can I get the Senior Citizen Special, please?

When did life change so fast? What's a trillville? Who is "The Game"? And how is he the hottest thing out there? How is it that at thirty I already feel so out of the loop? Am I growing older faster or is the younger generation? Here are 8 (because I'm too old to think up 10) ways to determine whether you're out of the "MTV Generation":

8. Your in an elevator going to an appointment and a "Flava in Ya Ear" by Craig Mack is being played in Muzak.

7. You don't know any of the hosts on MTV's TRL (even though you and girls, who were in your late twentys at the time, have not only been on the program but you got the video tape to prove it)

6. Really do the jeans have to be that low?? (Applies to girls and guys)

5. Your current "new" car is the same year as a high schooler's first car.

4. When did it make sense to wear fur coats in the summer and ultra-mini skirts in the winter.

3. We are older than everybody on Bet's 106 & Park's Top 10 List (well I am anyway).

2. While planning a girls get away vacation you have to exclude all the girls you know who have the potential of letting the GETTING come easy (getting drunk, getting loud, getting in a fight and getting groped by a stanger- Think back to FREAK-NIK and Black Beach Weekend) because you want to have a good time. When you were younger these were the ones that were first on the list because you were guaranteed to have a good time.

1. This one is for the ladies - You are not attracted to and have no intention of making out with your best friend just because "it's fun and you want a free t-shirt".

I'm concerned about this but not really. I love being my age and believe me I would not want to be a teenager today for anything. I just don't remember getting off the train, standing on the platform waving good-bye to being trendy and current. Now I'm all involved with Air America radio, Sky Shows and trips to Chicago that have nothing to do with congregating with my peers so that we can hook-up, drink-up and party all night long. I want to go just to go. What happened to me? I remember when the shirts had to be see-through and the skirts had to be short. Now I like the sleeves past my wrist and the skirt pass my ankles. But that's still sexy, right? I could go clubbing but I'd rather have friends over and watch my friend do the electric slide like it's never been done before on DVD while drinking a glass of wine and laughing to the point of tears. But this is my life now and I'm enjoying it.

Now if only I could get my friend to sign a release so I can distribute this DVD of her doing the electric slide on the internet. Hmm.

Smoooches Bitches!

I love, love, love Dave Chapelle. He's the best thing to come out of Comedy Central since . . . anyway I love Dave Chapelle. Dave Chapelle has added a new word to my vocabulary, Bitch. I know what you're saying "That ain't a new word!". You're right it isn't, but I just never thought of it as being a funny word. A word to be used humourously. I have been raised to believe that it's a profane word and degrades women, but when Dave Chapelle said it I couldn't stop laughing. When Rick James (lemme pour a little something for my homies that ain't here) re-introduced himself to us, he didn't say "Hello, I'm Rick James. I used to be a really famous singer in the late 70s and early 80s. You may have heard some of my songs, Mary Jane (an ode to sex and weed), Give it to Me baby (an ode to sex and drugs), and Super Freak (an ode to drugs and sex). But later I became better known for my wild drug and sex (inspired by his own songs) parties where someone was allegedly beaten up, kidnapped and burned by a Crack Pipe." Audience reaction: who? No he came out and said "I'm Rick James, Bitch" Audience: Oh yeah, I remember you. Where you been? Would you sing us a song? Would slap my girlfriend around? All the sudden Bitch is the new Nigger and Nigger is the new Negro and Negro is something Michael Evans said in Episode # 83 of "Good Times" Titled "Damn we still broke!".

Here's the kicker. Are you ready? Okay. I like the word. Actually I love the word. I use it as seasoning. I add it here and there. I refer to guys as Bitches, chicks as Bitches (I obvioulsy refer to women as chicks, also) and I also use it as a one word mood definer. I'm pissed: Bitch! I'm sad: Bitch. It just fits. The frustrating part about all of this is when a guy let's it slip out when talking to me or even a chick for that matter. If you say it to me with the least bit of disdain in your tone I am ready to throw down. I guess I am sort of a hippocrite, I can say it but you can't. Dave Chapelle can say it but you can't. Wu Tang Clan can say it (KON-NI-CHI-WA Bitches!) but you can't.

Does the use of something really take away the strength behind it. The more I say it the less it will hurt when someone else says? What's wrong with me? I used to blame it on the fact that I'm from Brooklyn (Is Brooklyn in the house? Oh baby, baby!). We are hard core in Brooklyn and profanity is our native language. Maybe I can blame it on Tourette's Syndrome? I don't think that will help, people with Tourette's say things like "Bitch Ass Face". But what do I do when I end a perfectly good 30 minute phone conversation with girl friends that included such topics as Life goals, relationships, children, education and spirituality? I say "Smooches Bitches" right before hanging up. That's just wrong isn't it? I am here to say that I will make a strong attempt to stop saying it. I spend quality time with young and impressionable children. What kind of example am I setting for them. So from now on I'll try to decrease the use of the word Bitch. And to those young impressionable children out there, "Suck That Shit Up and stop your crying."

Shit's not a curse word, is it?

Excuse me you're stepping on my wedding dress . .

A friend of mine got married last month. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. He was beautiful. You get the point, but here comes the ugly part. The question:"So when are you getting married Thania?" This question more often than not is posed by my mother. Married? Can I get a date first? Can I just meet a guy? Can I just meet a guy with a job? Can I just meet a guy with a job and no criminal record? Can I just meet a guy with a job, no criminal record and who was born before 1976? Can I just meet a guy with a job, no criminal record, born before 1976 and who's into women? Can I just meet a guy with a job, no criminal record born before 1976, who into women and that I am into? Am I too picky? Have I been ruined by cable television? My mother thinks it's a little bit of both. She says I am too picky but I am because TV tells me I should be.

With my mother there are 2 major issues: I am a caribbean child and I am the only girl. How dare I be 30 (yes 30 not 40 not 50 but THIRTY) and still no steady boyfriend and no engagement ring? My mother believes that she will die and I will not be married. Who will show you what to do? (she says in her Haitian-Cuban accent) Does she mean the wedding night? Because I got that part down pat. (brush the dirt off my shoulder) No the baby. What baby? Weren't we just discussing marriage. Yes but I gotta get married so she can have her grand-children. So again, who will show you what to do? Uh, the hospital. Who will watch the baby? Uh, Daycare. I try to explain to her that this takes time. That I gotta fall in love. I mean the perfect dress is not just gonna fall out of the sky. I have to see it and clutch the pearls just because it's so perfect. What about the guy? Unfortunately that's harder to find than the perfect dress. And it takes alot longer to fit into than the dress.

My mother (and I think most caribbean and latin parents) seem to believe that there is an expiration date stamped on the back of a woman's head. If that date comes and goes and no marriage than honey consider yourself unmarriable. But could this date possibly be in 2005? I mean isn't there enough pressure out there for me? I gotta count carbs, gotta watch out for the government, keep up on reality tv, be careful what I google at work, do a living will, buy shoes, watch out for my job and now I gotta keep an eye on the calendar while still listening out for biological time clock. Whew! I need an apprentice. So I tell her that I have female friends who are Ph.D.'s, lawyers, teachers and doctors all before getting married. Her answer to this great defense: yes, but they are married now. She's right, they are and I'm not. So will I die in some Willy Wonka-esque body blew up and exploded kind of situation on January 1st 2006? I ask her. No but it would be nice if you had someone to enter the New Year with. Great now I gotta worry about getting a date for New Year's Eve and we're only in April.

I don't want you all to think I am not doing my part to help my mother have her wedding and her grand-children, because I am. I go on dates. I had a date a couple of weeks ago. It was a Saturday. We went to lunch, had a great time and went shopping. Ladies, he even bought me something. Seems good so far. So we made plans for brunch on the next day. We'll meet at 10:30 a.m. Do you know what happened? HE STOOD ME UP!! Yes he did. I left him a voicemail and a text message. He finally sends me a text message at 6:26 p.m. that states: "Hey there, just saw ya mes. I woke up rather late. how was ya day, rather wet huh?" It was raining that day. So maybe the sound of the rain lulls him to sleep so hard that nothing wakes him up? Maybe he met a girl the night before and they had a great night together and she lulled him to sleep? But neither of those is reason enough to stand me up. So I stop talking to him. Completely. Sorry mom he wasn't the one but I haven't given up yet and neither should you. You'll find your perfect son-in-law and he'll give you those grandkids and the two of you will live happily everafter. It's just that I think this man will probably be dating one of your sons and not your daughter.

Back Track

Once upon a time in a land known as Atlanta, Georgia I used to write these diatribes of experiences and people I'd met and e-mail them to my friends. It initially started as a way to keep in contact with my friends in Florida. Then it became something that I would get to tomorrow and then three years had gone by and nothing had been written. Which I find to be ironic because so much has happened in that time. Then the other day I received an e-mail from a friend who asked me what happened to my "stories"? Stories? Well I thought about it and I figured I could add this to the 112 things I do everyday. I can sleep when I die. So this is an entry into my thoughts, my concerns and I guess me. So for the new people in my world here is a little something about me.

Name: My mother named me Thalia Mary-Martine Cantave, the hospital wrote down Thania (my mom has a slight accent) but you can call me Tay.

Age: 30, but I got a birthday coming soon. To be honest I feel 23 because half the time I don't know what the hell I'm doing with myself.

Attitude: I go with the flow of life. Life is crazy sometimes and so am I. Life is quiet and calm sometimes and so am I.

The CD I am dying to get: ElDeBarge's "Ultimate Collection". You all are sleeping on him. So many Hip-Hop artist are using his beats to make the big money.

Insecurities: I don't want anybody to be mad at me. I was raised as an only child and it's not one of the lessons you are taught. No one told me that someone can be mad with you and still love me.

The one book I am dying to read all the way through: "God's Secretaries" The truth behind the authors of the King James Version of the Bible.

Relationship Status: Single and a little angry about it. Hey what can I say I think I'm a great catch.

Aspirations: I don't know. It used to be an easy question to answer when I was younger. So many things have changed and so many things have ended up differently than I thought they would. That'll be my everyday goal, to find my aspiration.

Just to give you a glue as to what you expect from me, here's one from the good 'ol days in Atlanta:

I have come to realize that in states such as New York and Georgia, universities and other institutions of higher learning are highly overrated-Doris you'll feel me on this one. The reason for this revelation is because truly everything you need to learn about life and how to survive can be learned on the Train. Can you believe it a life lesson for only $1.75 each way. That's $3.50 a day, $17.50 a week. In semester talk that's $280.00, a year will cost you $1120.00. An entire four year education will cost (drumroll please) . . . carry the one . . .$4,480.00. That's it and what will you have learned for an education that cost you less than $5,000? Hold on I about to tell you (take notes there will be a quiz at the end):

1. If in a conversation some one uses the word about, they are lying. Estimation only works on mathematic calculations. Example: Two ladies (come on now I'm trying to proper) are discussing which boyfriend gives the most money. Lady A says "Pookie (I ain't lyin' she said Pookie) came over yesterday girl and I got $50.00 from him to get my hair did (her hair did looked like it had been did)." Lady B says "Girl that ain't nothin' Jashawn (would I make that up) gave me about $100.00 the other day for nothin at all." Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie. When was the last time you got some money and you didn't remember exactly how much you got? I still remember how much money I stole from my grandmothers dresser when I was seven. And I can convert it from gourd (Haitian currency) back to the American dollar. And ladies what man do you know (Julian jump in at anytime) do you know just gives a women money for nothin at all. Oh he got somethin'. Whether it was ass, a meal, a place to hide out, the use of her car, doin' his homework, she worked the neck-somethin' was exchanged for the so called $100. Now men aren't excluded from this chapter. Guy A says "Last night my girl gave me some good shit. I swear we must of been at it for like 2 hours!! Guy B responds "I know what you mean man me and my girl hit it about four times last night!! All together now ladies: Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie. Now his friend may believed Guy B was the man but really, we know the truth. Oh there were four hits but let me break it down for you exactly: Hit 1-they hit the bed, the floor, the kitchen table, the bathroom wall (one of them), Hit 2-they actually hit it, you know the silky nasty, knocked boots, the horizontal bambo, the hit the skins, Hit 3-he hits his side of the pillow and goes to sleep and if it was good Hit 4-she hit her side of the pillow and went to sleep. And besides a man knows exactly how many times he's hit it with every women. Wilt Chamberlain never said "I've had sex with about 6,000 women" No he said "I've had sex with 5,632.7 (have to politically correct) women." It's like a rain man thing with them, they can't remember the exact date they met you but they can tell you what the whether was like in Puket, Thailand the night they had sex with you (right Julian??)!!So what have we learned? When someone says about and they are not filing your taxes or giving an estimate that you know should really cost half the amount they are going to give you, they are probably lying. This fulfills your psychology requirement.

Next lesson: Why old, drucken, homeless black men should run for President.