Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

photo courtesy of phillymag His name was ****. I met him back when I worked for a property management company in DC. I was going to grab a bite from a Jamaican spot called sweet mango and he practically jogged to meet me. I actually tripped trying to accelerate out of his reach. Understand that I don't take too kindly to men approaching me while I'm out and about. We spoke for a bit over the phone, but we were both going through way too much. He just had surgery on a hernia and was on a limited budget to his leave of absence from work for the surgery and I was gung-ho for divorce and struggling working a part time gig. We fell off ( I often do that with many people). Fast forward to a few weeks ago. He contacted me on FB (we weren't FBfriends at the time so a search was performed...hey, I'm worth searching for! lol) and we started chatting again. He said that he never forgot about me and he wanted to try again now that our lives have finally found stability...

I met him some years ago. It was at a time where everyone was on another planet and we all used to send each other notes and see who was interested in whom. I would partake in the game but never played it with dedication. I just joined in from time to time without anticipation or expectation. I likened myself to a casual gambler. I played what I could stand to lose, never fixed on the big win. He came to my house. I was quite round at the time, but not shy about it at all. I was round and at well over six feet, he -was quite long. We are all varied shapes. We went to a buffet which seemed to suit both his long and my round stature. We spoke, we smiled. He wanted to be a good pastor. I just wanted to be good. We parted ways, and lost each other in life. It often happens that way. Years later I went back to that planet that I once would visit and he was there. We caught up. He no longer wanted to be a good pastor, he just wanted to be his best. I realized I would never be good, I was b...

Here's the story: So, I'm slacking at my part-time job right now and (apparently I have no shame as I typed that without much thought or remorse) part of my daily duties are to turn on the six televisions in the common areas which my boss prefers to have on CNN. After turning the television on, the segment playing caught my attention and I found myself staring at the television screen absolutely engrossed with Rosie O'Donald. Before you toss your hands up and tell me that you're done with me for being engrossed by Rosie, let me explain... Rosie O'Donald had a heart attack. She took a long time before she even went to her cardiologist or even a hospital. It ended up that she had a blocked artery and it was likely that she could have died. Okay, here's the thing that truly got my attention: She didn't go to the doctor. Why is this such a big deal? Because according to CNN many women suffer from heart attacks and strokes and have no clue until days or even w...

In the midst of working long days for all days I have both mysteriously and miraculously found the time to find myself. Immersing myself in work has allowed me to isolate myself from distractions and by doing so I think I finally began to recover and discover who I am. To say that this is a freeing moment is an understatement. I think I am more likely to say this moment is monumental in my growth as a person and above all as the ever thinking kinky Abby! While waiting for the hours to dwindle by as they always do on my part time job, I decided to crack open "The Ways Of White Folks" by Langston Hughes. What an eye-opening read! He is still one of my favorite writers to this day. "The Ways..." is a series of short stories that combined have a lasting effect on the reader. A part of me was left mourning the black experience at a time in history where being black was perceived as unfortunate rather than being regarded as a race. A nigger was a nigger. High yellow nig...

I remember quarreling with plenty men in my day but the worst thing a man could ever call you was a bitch. Calling a girl a bitch and you would surely have a search team of brothers, boyfriends, and cousins hunting your ass for a well-deserved beat down. The "B" word wasn't tolerated. These days it seems far more acceptable. Someone can say "I have the perfect bitch" or "that's my bitch". You may even hear a woman say "I'm a bad bitch". One person I know said that if her man calls her a bitch at 'the right time', it will send her over the edge (sexually). We all have little things we like to be called in the bedroom but what about everyday conversation? If one of your closest friends said "you're my bitch and I love you for life.....Would that be a heartfelt sentiment or a recipe for jaw tapping? I wouldn't want a man to call me a bitch in the bed or in the street. It's just not my thing. Perhaps I'm bei...

I'm a part of an email string; a forum of sorts that allows myself and several friends to interact and share opinions on topics ranging from sexual preferences to family values. Typically our discussions are light hearted and comedic however, there are times that they become intense and revealing. Yesterdays topic, on spanking a child that isn't your own yielded a great response surprisingly from all participants. Of course we were unable to focus on the initial topic and it ended up going far left to issues that in my opinom had nothing to do with the original question posed. That being said I can say that the stance on the topic was clearly divided between the have and the have-nots with the exception of about two people. Participants with children were opposed to others spanking their children and those without while they may have reconsidered their stance later on were initially for it. As the discussion went further myself and another parent were more and more appalled ...

I remember the first time I went to a gym class with my sister. It was an Arican-Brazilian workout taught by a strikingly handsome brazilan goddess named Paula. Her body was a dream and her energy was not contagious but inspiring...although I wish it were contagious. Since I knew how to swing my hips I wasn't intimidated, but then she began dancing. She had a routine and only those who had been attending the class knew every dip and groove while I, the foolish novice bumbled and gasped for air shamefully in the back row. There were times I bravely ventured one row forward, putting forth my best effort to get the moves right. I won't lie and say it was easy. Learning the moves was only the first part, maintaining the energy required was the other part of the challenge I had to master. This story makes me think of a guy I was dating recently. I ended our relationship because not only is his wife a recurring topic. He even mentioned spotting her in a store and following her out ...

How quickly do things change? Just about last week I was dating a man that made me feel like settling down or at least made me think about it again and this week I am totally done with dating. How is that things can turn around so quickly? I have learned some things about dating:  I remember dating a friend and really digging him and after a move and a new job he fell off the planet. By the time he remembered I existed I had long exited the relationship. Still his friend, but never to be anything more. What was my lesson: I need a man who is attentive in EVERY way, not just when I am around him. He's still a great guy, just not the guy for me. I considered dating a guy I dated years ago but he never initiated contact and always wanted spontaneously make plans... at maybe 10 or 11pm... aka bootycall eve. I had to let that go. Lesson: I'm too good just to be used for my goodies. Again, fun, intelligent, guy but not the guy for me. I started dating the last guy I blogged abou...