Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

"I love you." She said. She always said that. She said it so much that it made me cringe. It was like pouring too much syrup on your waffles. The sweet taste in small quantities was satisfying, and one slip of the hand and you can have a problem. Not enough waffle to fill your stomach, an abundance of sweet enough to make your stomach ache. Her love was like waffles drowning in syrup. I was the waffle. She was the syrup. I was weakened by her saturation of dramatic exits and appearances in my life. "I really do love you." She said. She was waiting for me to say something. I had reached the point where no answer was the right one unless it was what she wanted to hear. Silence. I had nothing to say. I wasn't going to do what she wanted me to do. I was going to do what I wanted to do for a change. "I guess I should stop loving you then." She was still prodding. Or was she toying with me? She was sopping up some of the syrup and threatening to toss the

I have no idea why Bethany was slumped against the wall like she just ran a marathon, twice. Her hair looked a mess, the bags under her eyes resembled miniature saucers and her breath smelled like she brushed her teeth with cheap wine. Before I could even say anything to her about it, Tanya's ever-tardy behind came sashaying in the restaurant as if she weren't late. With her Luis Vuitton bag dangling carelessly from her chubby arm and her ultra inappropriate little black dress clinging tightly against her body, she wedged herself into the booth gingerly with a practiced wiggle so not to draw attention to the effort it took to get her fat ass in there in the first place. I just smiled at her. I wasn't going to tell her she was late. She knew. I wasn't going to tell her that she looked ridiculous. She didn't care. I certainly wasn't going to ask her how she was doing, because then our entire meeting was going to be based on a question I didn't even really wa

"I'm not in love with you anymore." Surely if you were the unfortunate recipient of this confession its highly likely that your heart immediately felt as if it had imploded. Your only chance at resuscitation would be renewed affections from the very culprit who wounded you so severly. I have never been told that I was no longer loved. I regretfully admit that I have at a time recited those seven words with mournful resignation to someone once before. The thing is, I do believe that its possible one can "fall out of love" but I don't believe that love can ever be discontinued. After all, "falling in love" and "loving" seem like the same thing with varied intensity. Love is far more than a feeling. Its a commitment. Once you commit to something, you don't renege. If more people looked at love as an emotional commitment, perhaps the notion of even "falling out of love" or "not loving" would become more obscure. I

I'm guilty of it. I'm certain you are as well. All of us at some point have brought in the New Year with far more than bottles of champagne and ceremonial smooches. We almost always start the year with "the resolutions". Now I know that I can sometimes be a bit negative. This is something that I came to terms with many blogs ago last year. However, I will not lie to you and tell you that I believe that New Years Resolutions are practical. If anything, all that they seem to do is create a false start. Much like a track runner, we get down and crouch low to the asphalt waiting for the sharp pop of the gun shot. Then we take off running the twelve month race into the next New Year; our resolution batton in tow. As we sprint through the first lap, by the second we are already on the road to defeat, panting through the next only to realize that we started running way before the gun was even fired. By the end of the race to the following year, we have a new list of resoluti