The Problem.

The problem is not necessarily that he's not thinking about me. Or not texting me. Or not calling me. Really, I don't have that much to say, so I don't mind not saying anything. The problem is that he may be thinking about her. And texting her. And calling her... instead of me. And every vein in my body, every hair on my head, every piece of my being... is tortured by the thought of that. The thought of him thinking... about her. You see where this is going?

This whole ego thing - not for me. Life would be so much better without it. As far as I can tell, I'm not in love. I'm not lost in a whirlwind of emotions. I'm not daydreaming about our togetherness... so what the f*ck is the problem? Why am I so concerned that he is talking to her if he's not talking to me? He can talk to whomever he wants... as can I. And talking to an ex is simply not unreasonable. But it brings my blood to a muthaf*ckin' BOIL.

There are several issues here. First is the obvious. Maybe he's just... well... doing stuff. Enjoying his day. Enjoying his life. Kind of how I am, minus the compulsive obsessing over why he isn't thinking about me. Just a sidebar and a warning - this story does NOT get better. There is no denouement. My insurance still doesn't cover therapy. And so, I'll be here for a while. So yeah... he might be out just... being a person. Second is also obvious. He may be thinking about her/texting her/talking to her... but that's his business. And if he isn't that into me, I clearly should keep it moving. The problem is that when ego and compulsive obsessing meet, they screw shit up. Like really screw shit up. And turning it off is simply not an option. I've been namaste-ing and breathing and letting go and shit all around this mothaf*cker, and STILL cannot shake this. Jealousy, wounded ego, and compulsion. Yes. That's happening right now.

To take this a step deeper, as a yoga instructor, and a developmental psychologist of sorts, all I do is think about people, and how people think, and how people think about other people, and well... you get the idea. So I'm thinking about what he's thinking. And I don't like what I came up with. To be completely honest (and I've already been, so this should be no surprise), I'm thinking that what he's thinking is that he wants to be with his ex, and I'm just floating around to pass the time. F*cked up, right? So if I'm thinking that, why am I also not thinking, "fuck that n-word," and keeping it moving? I mean... I want to let it go. I want to. I'm not choosing to suffer. I know it looks like that. But I'm not. Really. So why the f*ck am I still here? I like him... enough. But do I like him... that much? Not so sure. Maybe... I'm bored? But damn. Could I be that bored? Nah... couldn't be. And as you may or may not know, "maybe I'm not *insert adjective here* enough" always lingers in the background... And what's really annoying is when your friends say things like, "You're beautiful! You're great! Stop thinking about him!," as if they have NO idea how annoying and unhelpful that shit is. I mean... be HONEST. Be like, "Girl... you should just move to Paris and have a bunch of lovers, cuz n-words ain't shit..." You know why? Cuz that is real. That is helpful. Anyway... so yeah. Happy F*cking Sunday.

And I mean... I should be able to have a guy who... thinks about me... right? From what I gather, I'm somewhat attractive by Western standards (minus being black and what not, but whatevs), I'm smart (again, by Western standards since I have degrees that say so), and I'm in shape (once more... by Western standards, since I probably look unhealthily small in some cultures), so I really don't have to chase or disgrace to get my Ace. Nah-meen? And yet, here I am... ordering lamb chops (and I'm a pescatarian), and preparing my glass of wine so I can "let go." That seems to be my "let go" juice. You know what? Maybe that's the moral here. Maybe... I just need to drink more wine. And then maybe... everything will be fine. I can dig that, actually.

My apologies if you were hoping for a better ending. I will say this... this morning a woman gave me a complement on my mascara and asked, "How did you get your eyelashes like that?" To which I responded, "Like what?" To which she replied, "Like... to look individual...? It looks like you put it on, and then let it dry, and then reapplied... it's cool! I like it!" To which I responded, "Oh. That. Uh... that's cuz it's from last night." Chile... I need to get my life. End scene. No really... please END THE F*CKING SCENE.

It's Friday. Again.

fruit, grains, and hydration. well... this is going to be a healthy friday night after all.

Breaking Up Before Breaking In.

Yeah. I do that.

So, I'm wondering if I'm the only one who daydreams about my arguments and break-up when I meet a guy I like. Imagining the apex to the downfall is like... therapy. Anyone reading this is probably wondering if I see a therapist. Unfortunately, no. I don't. I should. But my current insurance doesn't have that. Anyway. I meet a guy. We talk. We like each other (well... I like him, and hope it's requited). And then I think about all the reasons why it won't work, and imagine what the break-up will be like. You guessed it. I'm single. And will very likely remain that way. The great thing is that I love wine, whiskey, and water. And really, that's all I need to survive.

Shit.

really, dude?

him: ur attractive. ur smart. and ur... in ur 30s... so what are you waitin' for?

me: *blank stare*

...and so that ended that conversation. i wasn't even offended, really. it was just a small matter of a furrowed brow, and a questioning of audacity cuz like... who says that?

the question required so much dissecting, i couldn't believe an artist - and not a biologist - asked it. what was i waiting for? well for one, a dude who didn't think that question was ok. but... was i really waiting? i hadn't ever considered that i was, and was not clear what i was doing to suggest that there was waiting happening. there was the one time at the gathering where i waited for someone to make my drink... but clearly he wasn't referring to that. was i 'waiting' for 'my' guy? couldn't be... right? like... i don't even think 'my' guy exists. or maybe i do? pfff.

and so now me, the over thinker, is sitting here wondering if i'm waiting. questioning why i always choose guys who are 'unavailable,' and recognizing my clear pattern of picking dudes who won't/"can't" pick me. i'm still working thru this. like... am i that happy by myself? or is it just fear of being hurt to the core? here's what... frank ocean makes me feel normal. he seems to feel similarly. and so, as long as my ipod works, i'm ok. for now.

Feminists Killed Chivalry. Viva la period.

Ok, so...those who know me well know that I totally oppose "folk" feminism. I appreciate gender roles, and don't want to put up curtains or change my own flats (unless it means changing into heels). My idea of feminism falls along a completely different continuum where I get at least a day off to bleed out my entire uterine wall without some a-hole of a dude assuming that I'm weaker because I want the freaking day off - especially since it's for his own protection. It has nothing to do with being weaker. It's actually about being uber strong - bionic, even. Don't fight for my right to work while menstruating; fight for me to receive some bloody benefits! Pun intended. Anyhow, I believe that folk feminists have ruined my life by forcing me to put up curtains and change flats whilst menstruating. To prove what? I don't wanna do that ish. I got cramps, dammit. It's some real bull%*$*. Despite that, I occasionally like to vote, be paid equal wages, and not be beaten and raped and stuff. Nonetheless, chivalry got lost in the "folk" feminist sauce and I'm just like...wha-huh?

A quick google of the word 'chivalry' brings you to the wikipedia definition (and c'mon...you know everything on wiki is true and correct, and worthy of use in academic journals) that suggests that folk feminists objected to chivalry by 1911! From wiki: "The idea that men were to act and live deferentially on behalf of women and children, though an ancient principle, was already under attack by 1911 from militant suffragettes intent on leveling the political playing field by removing from the public mindset the notion that women were a “weaker sex” in need of saving." I"m sorry, so men are to show women deference, and we should be...mad? I'm not. I'm not mad. I'm really not mad at men being deferential. I mean...I kinda like it. Some people think women are weaker. Some people think I'm a nigger. I'm really not going to be upset because some man wants to show deference. I would be upset, however, if he tried to lynch me. Locate your priorities. I'm just saying - there are some real, live biological structural differences that do give average men the upper hand over average women when it comes to certain things - things like...changing flats. Similarly, women also have the upper hand over certain things - pain tolerance, and mental stability, for example. So yes, there are structural differences between the sexes that should be acknowledged here and there. Weaker physically? Possibly. Weaker mentally? Not by a long shot. And then comes chivalry.

This folk feminism has created this class of men who either have no idea of what chivalry is, or have no desire to be chivalrous because they feel it's totally unnecessary. These new-aged dudes that wanna go dutch and have you open doors are like...not for me. I would totally be down for a knight back in the day, although my blackness would probably mean that the whole knight thing would turn into slavery and stuff, so the chivalry would still be lost. I would never wanna be anything but a black woman, but gosh - we just don't get the benefits of being female (and never have, hence my being anti-folk feminism). Tangent. Sorry. Anyhow, I can't completely blame men for their lack of chivalrous attitudes when they think that we wanna be treated as equals in every aspect of our lives. Now, when it comes to my damn PAY...! I don't wanna do man sh*t. There are some women that enjoy non-chivalry, and who wish to be equal in every aspect of their male-female relationship. I get it, and I think it's awesome. I, however, am not one of them. I am completely capable of taking care of myself entirely, and taking care of everyone else while I do it. But every once in a while, it's nice to know you don't have to. Reason #912 why I'm single. I like chivalry. And I treat myself too well to relinquish my caretaking to someone who won't treat me as well as I do. Open my door, dammit.