Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

...First comes love, then comes marriage then comes.... with a baby carriage! Do you remember singing that with friends when you were teasing someone about a crush during recess? I do. Any time I heard it I would giggle along with my friends and join in chanting it along with them. I remember wanting desperately to kiss a boy in the sixth grade. His name was Matthew and I thought he was about the cutest thing I'd ever laid eyes on. He of course was oblivious to my existence and I never got a chance to even speak to him so forget about kissing him. Once I started to blossom and left the awkward stage most tweens go through, I had no problems with my first kiss or the many kisses that came after that. Kissing was the thing when I was growing up. My Best Friend and I had a Kiss List. We write the name of all of the guys that we had kissed and periodically rate them against each other. As my kiss list grew to the double digits I became afraid as bouts of herpes and mono were prese

Well, I'm back at it. I know what I said so please don't remind me. I promised that I was going to stay away from men for a few months until I got time to breathe, stop and smell the roses, clear my mind, etc. Seven weeks later I was typing in my bank card information looking for some interaction on a dating site. Allow me to be clear: I hate dating sites. I hate that they send you the same rotation of members although there supposidly HUNDREDS of them available. I hate that I have to send a virtual wink at men I am interested in and hope that they will see my profile and virtually "wink" back at me. I really hate when I get notification that I have an email and its not from a guy I am interested in but the creep at the bottom of the cyber barrel that probably sends EVERYONE (including men) emails. Did I mention the whole culture of online dating? First you have The Reluctant. The Reluctant is a population I am a part of. We want to meet someone but we are apprehe

All I needed was a vacation. I didn't ask for much and the least I could do was treat myself. All of my friends couldn't come up with the money so I just let it be. I don't need them to relax, but I do need to relax. Everyone is so free here. Fat girls in bikinis, skinny girls in bikinis... just free. I decided to choose a spot close enough to the water so I can take a quick dip if I felt like it. I didnt even want to walk. I came to relax. I looked over to my left and thats where I saw them. They looked like they came here often, there was a familiarity that they had with their surroundings. They moved about like they were at home. I quickly turned away. I didnt want to stare. Moments later I was spying on them again. Two gorgeous women chuckling and sipping drinks. Both had to be in their 3o's, but both looked younger. I knew better though, they weren't spring chickens. They just had "the look". Its the look you get when you're content with your l

First, I hope I don't ruffle any feathers with this one however I feel compelled to write this... When I was a child I lived in a working class neighborhood that was predominantly black and Caribbean (sorry but there is a huge different in Caribbean upbringing in comparison with Black Southern, Black African or Black American upbringing so the need to differentiate felt necessary). I went to an elementary school that was filled with loads of black children, to the point that any fair skinned or white child was immediately identified and known by all because well, they weren't black. I exceled in my elementary school. I got the Assistant Principals award, I had poems published in my year book, I was in Talented and Gifted, I was in music, I went to the beach club with one of my teachers, pet sat for another, entered every statewide contest, aced my city wide tests... I was that kid. Hell, Sistah Souljah signed my year book and told me MY writing was good and she is the one w

There are some people who always want to tell you about their woes. I can deal with that. Then there are people who want you to solve their problems for them. I can't deal with that. Please know that I have had my fair share of issues and I have been given grace on numerous occasion by friends, family and even strangers. Each time, I cringe because I don't enjoy receiving help. I feel as if I am failing when I need it, or as if I am weak. Today someone told me that their car got vandalized, it rained and the rain ruined the car's interior, their paycheck is short, and they don't know what to do. Now, I wanted to know how this information was going to affect me. See, we have an arrangment and a part of that arrangement requires a "transaction" to take place. So when I am being informed all of all the mishaps in your life, I am wondering when the bottom line will be discussed (the bottom line being, are you going to meet your end of the deal?). As much as I am

I don't want to spend too much time on my story. If you follow this blog you already know the story. BUT- in case you don't know the story: I married a man I had no business marrying but love and wanting to do the "right" thing as you see fit at the time can get you into a land of trouble. So, I'm at the intersection of Terrible Avenue and Mistake Drive. I share two children with a man that I describe as a co-worker who really should have been fired a long time ago. It's like that fool in the other department that you deal with ever so often and you each time you see them you say to yourself: "I can't believe they didn't fire that @$$hole." The hardest thing for me dealing with someone who see as irresponsible and disinterested in parenting their children is continuously attempting to work with this person although I don't even care to speak to them. My kids are at an age where they can not make arrangements with him independent of me

Rosalyn twirled happily in the mirror. Her dress looked perfect. Those months of endless workouts had finally paid off and she looked exactly as she had hoped she would several months ago. Her make-up was as close to flawless as one could get. That hideous birthmark on her temple was concealed quite nicely. Pleased with her appearance she looked in the mirror and gave herself a broad grin. "I have never seen you look so beautiful." said her mother, Carol. Carol was always there, even when Rosalyn didn't know or care for the company. Her ever present need to nurture her daughter was apparent to many except to Carol, of course. Rosalyn grinned yet wider and opened her arms eagerly for an embrace. Carol happily obliged and the two women swayed gaily in the mansion bedroom which was now converted into a dressing room for the sake of bridal madness. "You are going to live a great life with him Rosalyn, better than I ever did with your father." Carol said in a sent

Its hot as hell out here. I wish this car had AC. Well it doesn't matter because I'm not leaving here until he comes out that door. I know that he's in there and once he come's out I am going to knock his head off! Damn it's hot. Let me see if I can wipe some of this sweat off in case she comes out there with him. I don't want to look busted. Can't look busted in front of the other woman. You have to show them that you look just as good as they do. I saw her picture. She looks like she never had a baby, or worked, or had a broken heart a day in her life. Its hot out here. I'm not leaving. I'm going to sit right here until they come out of that house and then I'm going to fly out this car like a bat out of hell and set it off on the both of them. I'm not going to her. I'm going to be a lady about it. I'm going to knock his head clear off his neck though! Who does he think he is leaving me for some stuffy city girl? She can't love

I met her back in highschool. She was hot even back then. She had a sex appeal that eluded girls her age. I ached for her for four years. We would flirt, but I never had the courage to take it further. Sometimes I even thought I saw her frown in disappointment that I didnt. Finally, I saw her on Facebook. Actually I saw her legs. Her profile picture was of her legs! Ends up we had a mutual friend. I immediately sent her a request, but I was going to do it right. I sent her a message too. I kept it casual, I didnt want her to sense my excitement. Hey, how are you? How's life, good to see you, keep in touch. I wanted her to give me the signal, and let me know how she wanted things to go down. She replied, the next day. Said she was living in New York, had a loft in Soho and was working in finance but had a passion for photography. She was "so glad" to have received a message from me and she looked forward to catching up. So, she's digging me. Looking forward means mor

It was a single parent home. I never thought my mother to be particularly business savvy. I always associated that with suits and briefcases. I knew she hustled and did whatever needed to be done to keep us fed and sheltered. Recently, I began searching for an aftercare program for my children since I am at work when they get out of school. Apparently, aftercare for two children costs anywhere from $200 a month to $800 a month. After making numerous calls, all programs within my price range (take a wild guess, its on the low end) were booked and I was left without any choices as I couldn't afford and $800 monthly expense on my meager income. After some prayer and thought, I decided to post ads for childcare on the web. I came up with 2 prospects and scheduled interviews with each of them. One person was a married mom of one child living locally who said she could commit for three months. She sounded super qualified however a bit over qualified. She took leave from work just to po