Funny, The Memories A Photo Can Trigger

Since C and I are now buddies on Facebook, I keep seeing these photos he's been posting to his page, including some that feature yours truly.

It's kinda weird to see that; I mean, I know it is only because the babies are in the photos and he likes to show them off like any other proud papa, but eww... I'm in them.

It's a little weird, don't you think?

Well, for me it is... especially when I remember the day each photo was taken- 95% of them were when we were still together, faking the funk for all it was worth. And the new ones make me a bit sad because those are memories my babies are creating, experiencing, etc, without me.

I'm okay, though. I'm okay.

One particular photo, though, really stuck out from the rest, and the memory it solicited was definitely weird for me:



We were separated but not yet legally divorced. There was this slight tension between us because we had "slipped up" the previous November and I'd also gotten the vibe from him that he wanted to keep "slipping up" but I could be getting the sequence of events wrong. That whole summer was a blur.

But the day this picture was taken, K graduated from the 5th grade. C and I were still new at the "splitting up the summer" thing, but knew that he was definitely taking both K&N for the first part of the vacation, so shortly after this photo was taken the babies left for at least three weeks.

And what makes this day stand out is that I remember the fumes from C's Jeep hadn't even dissipated fully when D (the other half of THE BREAK UP HEARD AROUND THE WORLD) showed up at my place. We were in full monogamy mode by this point and I was kid-free, off from work for the rest of the day and eager to do all kinds of dirty things with him.

Our whole relationship was pretty much us finding new ways to violate my mattress. I mean, we went out and talked and stuff, but mostly we made the walls blush.

It was crazy hot on that particular day, and I don't like air conditioning so my place was hotter than hell. In fact, The Devil stopped by but was like, "DAAAAAAYUMMM it's hot in here!!" and stormed out in a huff.

I agreed to buy a window fan and D came with me to get it. Then we stopped by Carvel for a Sundae, drove back to my apartment, put the fan in the window in my bedroom and proceeded to, you know, do it.

Talk about sweaty monkey sex!

Afterwards we ate the shit out of that sundae and took many cold showers, I think (did I mention it was HOT?!?!).

While my babies got their first taste of "splitting their time between mom and dad" before they were able to wrap their heads around the fact that the family they knew was officially over, I was fornicating my non-ass off.

I'm not even sure how to react to that memory. It just crept in there against my wishes and made itself at home. Put its nasty feet up on my couch and snatched the remote. Just pure rudeness.

And now I kind of wish I hadn't seen that photo, especially not on Cs FB page.

*smooches...thinking, I have a million stories like this, but you'll have to wait for the book*
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SIKE! I ain't writing no damn book on my boudoir habits, get real!! But there may be a few chapters here and there in my memoirs. I think. lol

meanwhile I still have that window fan, and sometimes on really hot nights, when the girls are with C, I remember why I bought it...

N Says Big Is Not Always Beautiful

N: Was it me and K who made you fat?
ME: No- I'm fat because I eat too much and don't exercise.
N: Oh but the boobies- that was me and K
ME: Yup.

...

ME: Actually, big boobies run in the family.
N: (throwing herself on the floor all dramatic n shit) NOOOOOOOOOOO!

*smooches...laughing at my baby's sassy mouth*
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she always comes up with new and inventive ways to insult me, but it's all good, tho... just wait til Christmas. Guess who's getting a lump of coal? Mhmm...

'Cause We Cool Like That

Can you believe that we had NO CAMERA in the house for Thanksgiving besides my camera phone?

I know, right?!

Well, the USPS was holding my camera hostage (long, boring story), Mari's camera decided to act a fool, and Mami had a disposable with only three shots left.

Yeah, we suck.

I got some cute shots, but thought these five were the cutest:











We're gorgeous, I know, you don't have to say it.

Anyways, on the way home I was reflecting on our tiny celebration and it sort of came to me while crammed into the 5:30PM Bolt Bus: my mom and I are not best friends. There, I said it.

We do not share deep dark secrets and she's the LAST person I turn to when in trouble because we're just not tight like that. But she's cool people- she cracks me up, she is a fountain of knowledge, can cook like no one's business and for the most part, I like her.

So forget my therapist when she tries to get into my head about our non-relationship... what's past is past. Maybe I was wounded over it at one point, but today "it is what it is" and that's that. I'm not going to dwell on it, I'm not going to point fingers, and I hold no resentment in my heart. Truly.

Mami is cool people, and she gave birth to two cool people, one of which has already given birth to two MORE cool people.



And collectively, we're the SHIT.

*smooches...imagining all the coolness that is yet to come*
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everyday I find I need/want my therapist a little bit less than the day before. I really tried, folks, but maybe head shrinkage just isn't for me...

Smile! Don't You Know God Loves You?

How did you like the show last night? Did Cathi and I miss any important points? Be sure to visit my BTR Blog if you have some additional comment to get off your chest regarding Dating After Divorce and what we had to say last night. I wasn't able to answer all the questions I saw swimming around the chat room, so now's your chance to ask away.

And now, on to the post:
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There are enough bitter, angry people in this world to, well, inhabit this planet.

But I don't have to be one of them.

I came up with this when I casually surveyed all the people around me on the subway... they were all frowning and scowling and just looked all kinds of miserable. Dear Christ on the Cross- is that what I look like, too? I don't want to look like that! I don't want my kids to look like that!

When I noticed all the frowns I became painfully aware of my hands; they were grasping my bag for dear life, clenched around the straps. My jaw, too, was clenched and I could all of a sudden feel the tightness around my mouth. And then I felt it... my scrunched up brow... I was frowning, too, and when I tried to relax my face, unclench my jaw and hands, I couldn't.

What have we become? What have I become? No wonder I get such bad headaches. No wonder my shoulder and neck area is a tangle of knots so deep not even pills can relieve it. No wonder... what ever happened to my smile?

I know this is NYC; I know our rep is to have on our blinders, look straight ahead, avoid eye contact and have on our "I'm Gonna Fuck You Up If You Even THINK Of Talking To Me" face, but OUCH! It hurts to be this tense all the time.

You know, when I first arrived at Alfred, Lord! Talk about culture shock... random strangers would smile and greet me on the street- I almost had to slap somebody! And then I realized: it's a small town with a teeny population and two college campuses full of people who like to party. Why not smile?

But then I came back to NYC on break and made the TERRIBLE MISTAKE of smiling at someone on the subway... yeah, she totally gave me the Gas Face and I had to readjust to civilian life again.

Now, I mean, I've been back for a minute so I'm totally NY again but UGH- does it have to be an ANGRY, FROWNING NY?

Can y'all do me a teeny tiny favor? When you're out and about living your crazy hectic life, can you smile? Not at anyone in particular, but maybe at life? Even if you're in a shitty situation, can you smile? For me? I'll be ever so grateful! Because maybe I'll see you on the street and smile back.

Even a deranged, "I'm about to kill everyone on this bus" smile is better than nothing... at least we can plot together...

*smooches...smiling for you as I type this post*
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a weird thing happened on the way to Justine's going away party... I felt so, relieved.

1 down. 42 to go.

Welcome The Fold, Young Grasshoppers...And Other Musings

Tonight on Monday Musings w/The Jaded NYer & Friends...
You've seen her drunk, you've read my proposal to her and you even read about her lovely four years of couple-dom, now you get to hear from Miss Cathi herself as we talk shit about the ups and downs of Dating After Divorce: Getting Back on the Horse After it Kicked Yo' Ass Out the Stable.



It should be awesome so make sure you tune in. As usual, I'll expect ignorance and buffoonery to be taking place in the chatroom, so you don't want to miss it.

Also, some have complained about the time and effort it takes to create a BTR profile in order to participate in the chatroom, so I advise you all to create one now and get it out of the way... then you never have to think about it again. Easy, Breezy.

And I Know Y'all Missed The Misogyny
So here's my favorite after-blog-break artist: Ludacris!



Even though I LOATHE man-braids, I kinda miss Luda's hair. Is it just me?

Oh, and here's a new addition to my Ghetto Ass Fools playlist:



What can I say? You can take the girl out the ghetto... at least I'm not out in the streets showing my ass. Just here on my blog! *smile*

Welcome To The Fold, Grasshoppers
It was brought to my attention that my blog roll was kind of dusty... true, I haven't updated it in forever, my bad, but I didn't want it to get out of hand by listing the 50-some-odd blogs I read each week.

Instead I'm adding in a teeny handful of them, some of them fellow writers whose gift of words and storytelling I'd like to share with you all, others crazy mo-fos whose blogs are full of shenanigans and tomfoolery. Show them some love when you get a free minute. They may not update every single day, but it's quality over quantity, okay?

And now that my blog roll is looking quite ridiculously long I think that unless one of these listed closes their blog for good I do not have space for anyone new. So don't even ask.

No Man, No Cry
So last week I was all boo-hooing about not having been with a man in ages, blah blah blah, and I apologize for my momentary weakness. It was fueled by a recent friendship that had potential that went KaPut that sort of fucked with my head a bit, bad enough that I almost tried to rekindle shit with Mr. Baseball even though I know good and well that that negro is TOXIC.

Yes, believe it or not, even I can get caught out there from time to time. Listen, it's slim pickins out there, especially when you're divorced, in your 30s and have kids, so sometimes I get a little desperate and think about grabbing whatever comes my way whether or not it's a good fit, because NO ONE wants to be alone, not even this Jaded NYer (man, tonight's radio show segment is RIGHT ON TIME, no?), but I always come out of it with a clear head...

...because I have WONDERFUL people in my corner, lifetime friends who smack me around until I come to my senses, and new friends who offer a kind ear and a distraction from it all. I love you all and I truly don't know how I'd get along everyday without you.

Don't These People Know Who My President Is?
So I wanted to do the whole White House tour while visiting DC this past weekend, but OH MY GOD the loops n hoops n troops you have to jump through to get a tour! You'd think it was the Hope Diamond and not stupid-ass Bush they were holding up in there, SHEESH!

Why can't I just flash my Honorary Black Card and come on in? Doesn't Dubya & Co. know who won the election? I mean, can Laura get my back or something? 'Cause I have a First-Generation Dominican-American Card, too, if that will get me in... c'mon Affirmative Action! Do something for me already!!

*smooches...wondering if they'll let me within 500ft of the White House*
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I'm definitely going to try again for next time I visit Mari. I have this deep desire to show my ass over at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.