What a Difference a Day Makes!

I felt great today, imagine that. Based on yesterday's post you'd think I was just about through. But nope, I survived. And I had a great day at work today. I was so productive and it felt good. For days now I've let some negative thoughts consume me. But I've moved through my stages of grief, let some things go in my mind, and finally allowed myself to believe that it's not my fault.

Ahh yes, the mind and imagination can bring such joy, yet such sadness. It's all about having balance. Life is like a roller coaster. When you begin to learn your cycle of events and occurrences, you tend to enjoy every drop of the good times because you know that a down time may come. And when it does, you were expecting it (because it's a part of life), welcome it, process it, and send it packing. For some good times are on the way and you need to make room.

Peace, all.

Dinah, take it away.

Ms. Understood

Hello,

My name is Ms. Understood, and hence the name, I'm a very misunderstood person. My mother understands me *shout out to mommy*. My close friends sorta get me. And for that I'm very grateful. But outside of these entities, I'm often assigned a personality I do not own, intentions that are not mine. And I apparently possess an aura that I wish would stop following me everywhere I go. Well, let me not wish that. I imagine it's doing some good things that I as a mere mortal am incapable of comprehending.

When I'm not being labeled as "quiet and shy," I'm accused of being "boring" (by people who have no desire to prove themselves right or wrong) or "innocent and naive" (by people who have no desire to prove themselves right or wrong). What I really love is when I'm placed on a pedestal of purity, and if I dare step down and become "normal," am met with an astonished disappointed that can be summarized with Jennifer, you?

I would never have guessed that at my age, I would still be treated as if I were a child, incapable of understanding the cruel ways of the world; an asexual being with no desire to experience the pleasures of the flesh; a quiet mouse who only squeaks every now and again; a sweet little thing who'd never ever curse; a young woman who despite growing up in the 80s and 90s is somehow ignorant of popular culture, particularly rap music. It goes on and on.

Well you know what everybody?

I'm a woman!!!!!! A normal woman!!!!! A regular adult!! My god, may I step down off this pedestal and have an alcoholic beverage with you, I can take it you know!! May I curse without a news crew being called because it's a big deal? May I get upset or have any normal reaction to life’s ups and downs? May I squat and shake my hind part to a booty bounce song without someone fainting from the shock? Sir, yes you over there, voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?

Wow, this feels really good. I’m just tired of being misunderstood. I’m just tired of shocking people by doing the most normal, mundane things. I’m tired of being told I’m too nice by men. I’m tired of being told I need to get out more, but having to do it alone. I’m tired of being taken for granted. I'm tired of not being given a chance. I'm tired of the timing always being wrong. I'm tired of all the good ones being taken. I'm tired of the leaves in my yard. I'm tired of my commute. I’m just tired.

I would like to drink a glass of Chardonnay right now. But I must do it alone. Wouldn’t want to have more than one, become merry, start to act like the real me, and shock someone who had such high hopes for me.

Oh yes, before I forget, I hope you enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. I’ll be back with another post soon. Though November was busy, a paltry two postings is unforgivable. I’m sorry about that. Love you all. Forgive the rant. Just being normal. May I?

---Ms. Understood

Nina, take it away.

When You're Not "The One"

When you're not "the one" you seem to remember all the little things you shouldn't remember about him. When you're "the one" he remembers all those little things about you. When you're not the one, you pick yourself apart and ask yourself why. When you're the one, you have no questions at all. When you're the one, you can rest assured. When you're not the one, you're assured a restless night.

Yeh, I just freestyled that myself. I'm sitting here, sipping coffee and doing some freelance work. I decided to take a break and unload a little of what I've been feeling since I left work. I was on the train coming home when the hopeless romantic in me reared her neglected little head. She reminded me about "Tony," my last crush that went nowhere. (Why is this the story of my life?) I remembered that the year anniversary of my meeting him was coming up, November 14th to be exact. I then smiled a sad smile because I knew that he would never ever remember the date he met me.

I pulled out my cell phone and sent this text to my friend who's very familiar with how much I adored him:

Nov 14 is the day I met Tony. I still remember what he had on and how much I looked forward to seeing him again. I was so nervous 2 ask 4 his # but did anyway. I actually prayed that he'd feel the same about me. I prayed because I like him so much. Still do. Even though I'm not "the one."

Kinda deep right?

I had dinner, danced to work off the cookies I ate earlier, did some work, and then came to my blog. Where I discovered my thoughts of unrequited desire were still hanging around, demanding to be tended to. And so I'm tending to them. Through my words.

I have no shame in admitting that I rarely forget the people who've crossed my path. I remember them all. I wonder where they are; if they ever did that thing they wanted to do; if they ever bought that thing they wanted to buy; if they ever went to that place they wanted to go; if they've fared well in this roller coaster ride of life. That's just the kind of person I am. I know Tony will never read this. But here's to you anyway, Tony. Thanks for coming through, at least when it really mattered. Whenever you're ready again, and either find or reunite with "the one," I'm sure she'll feel very loved.

All the best to everyone.

About the couple up there: This beautiful scene was part of a calendar I bought over 6 years ago. The artwork was so beautiful I cut out most of the months and framed them. Gazing at their embrace puts a smile on my face; just like the smile on hers. I won't lie, there have been many nights where I wished we could trade places.


Signed,

The Hopeless Romantic on behalf of Jennifer Singleton

iRobot: Because it's Halloween

Here she is, the most realistic humanoid I've ever seen. When I saw her dressed like a librarian it made me realize how they can be walking amongst us now. Technology has advanced so much, it's amazing. I would sit next to her on the bus or train and not even look twice. She blinks, uses a variety of facial expressions, and has an eerily calm demeanor.

I know these humanoids will one day play a major role in our lives. I'm curious though, will they demand the same rights and freedoms as humans? Will there be advocacy groups working to prevent their exploitation? Will they take away the jobs of "real" humans? Think about it, no sick leave, no maternity leave, no need to enjoy an outside life.

These questions and more are what we must ask.

Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Review Isn't Done Yet

One month ago, I wrote that on October 1st I would post a review of The Outsider by Richard Wright. Well after reading the 400+ page book I became intimidated and unsure of my ability to give it justice. I was so impressed with Wright's writing style, the book's theme, and the protagonist Cross Damon, that I kept putting off the review while I thought of the best way to proceed. And now as October nears an end, I still haven't done it. This is my confession. I still believe in my writing ability, but honestly, I just think my review will suck. But I suppose I should let others be the judge of that, right?

I'm creative. I can string together a sequence of words to create an interesting read. I've done it before, and I've had my share of compliments. Don't give up on me, gentle readers. Perhaps it will help me to not give up on myself.


Oh yes, about the tree:

It's a tree in my backyard that is going through "the change" in anticipation of winter. I was inspired by it. Without fail, the leaves come and they go. So much of that mirrors human life. We gain and we lose all the time. Our defining moments are how we choose to act on what is happening. I've lost some leaves myself, leaves that may never return. But my hope is that in their place will erupt new and wondrous buds to restore me to what I used to be.

Continue to look out for that review. It's coming. I promise.

"This isn't the neighborhood for that."

These are the words that came from the mouth of a woman I rode with on the bus this morning. She had been talking to another woman about kids, music, and what their plans were for the weekend. As most people on public transportation, their voices were elevated so that everyone around them was forced to be a part of the conversation. As we approached a Starbucks and its "Coming Soon!" sign, the woman began expressing her view that a Starbucks wouldn't do well in the neighborhood. My new neighborhood. I was very offended, but not for me. I was offended on behalf of the neighborhood's residents who are very grateful that a Starbucks has come. In the midst of budget furniture stores, fast food restaurants, nail shops, and an auto parts store, I'm sure the residents are pleased that a Starbucks, something different, has come.

I got the impression she meant the residents of the largely minority neighborhood would not frequent a Starbucks, and it struck a nerve. Why wouldn't we? I wanted to reply to her "So, would a liquor store and payday loan establishment be more acceptable for the neighborhood? Because the people here would rather spend their money on a wing special than a iced latte, right?" What her view of herself and the people around her must be, I pondered.

I found myself feeling grateful that she wasn't a city planner, or the person responsible for approving building permits or granting contracts to investors and companies seeking to gentrify an economically distressed neighborhood.

But then I realized that I had no idea what she did for a living. She appeared to be on her way to work just like me. The likelihood of her either working for the local DC government or the federal government was strong. How were her perceptions of "certain" kinds of people and places influencing her decision making. What did she mean? The residents were too poor to afford a Starbucks beverage or food item? Or did she mean the residents didn't have sophisticated enough palates to appreciate Starbucks products? Why was she so certain that the business would fail because "this isn't the neighborhood for that"?

Lady, what is the right neighborhood for that? And if your neighborhood is not good enough for a Starbucks, why do you live in such a place?

I certainly hope she's wrong. I'll visit this Starbucks when it opens. And I hope I'm joined by other residents who want to show "upscale" establishments like Starbucks that we do spend our money on products other than fast food and other products of the poor and unenlightened. I know I'm kind of rambling here. This isn't meant to be a perfect post with proper sentence structure, topic sentences, cohesiveness, and cadence. It's just a rant in reply to an ignorant statement I heard on the bus.

Mind Sex

Should I be embarrassed to admit that I'm in the mood for this right now? Should I be even more ashamed to admit that I'm rather famished from lack of this emotional food? Well, I'm not. Mental stimulation at the mind of another person is crucial for human development, creativity, happiness, and fulfillment. It's such a shame that not enough of us realize its importance.

My sympathies to all of the bullying victims

I wasn’t popular in high school. There are a number of reasons I wasn’t. I didn’t wear name brand clothes; I didn’t associate with any cliques; I didn’t live in a nice subdivision like the majority of my classmates, but in an apartment in the city’s housing authority; I created my own unique hairstyles that didn’t conform; I was quite; and just didn’t fit in. However, during my junior year, I transferred to another school where I met some great people who accepted me the way I was and actually liked me. I wasn’t such a loser anymore. It was a great feeling.

Mine is considered a success story compared to the suffering that many other kids go through. I wasn’t obese; considered unattractive, or conversely, too pretty; didn't wear dirty, tattered clothing; and as far anyone could tell, was a cookie cutter heterosexual. Passing these big hurdles allowed me to pass through my middle and high school years unscathed. Not so for many others.

Bullying has dominated the news in recent weeks. A 12-year-old girl's father made headlines after he boarded a bus and yelled at his mentally challenged daughter's tormentors. A 13-year-old girl hung herself after nude pics she texted to her boyfriend ended up in the hands of menacing classmates. A Rutgers University freshman killed himself after his homosexual encounter was broadcast over the internet by his roommate. My sympathies to all who have and who will be the victims of taunting and bullying from either an acquaintance or an anonymous attacker.

The old adage "kids can be cruel" has taken on a different meaning as technology has advanced. Even before these stories hit the news, I pondered what today's grade schools were like. What was it like now to be an unpopular, bullied kid. Back in my day, if someone didn't like you, they told you to your face, there weren't any social networking sites to hide behind. Mean notes were written about you and passed around; a bully may have told you to meet him after school—all awful things to experience. However, back then, when a victim of such actions went home, they had escaped, at least for a little while. And if it got too bad to endure, they could transfer schools, and start over. Now, victims are forced to face their hurt 24/7. And these hurtful things, be them malicious blogs, Facebook, and Twitter pages, or humiliating camera phone videos and pics, can follow them for years.

Technological advancements are amazing and inspiring and have changed millions of lives for the better; and with each year are becoming a necessity rather than a luxury. However, these very things we rely on to entertain, educate, and motivate ourselves are the tools of torment for far too many. To you, gentle readers, and anyone else affected by such cruelties, my deepest sympathies, and wishes for you to stay strong and hold on.

In closing, I want to share an article I wrote on cyberbullying for the December 2009/January 2010 issue of Educational Leadership, published by ASCD. Read it here.

Ramblings About Seasons and Something Else

I have these "seasons" of inspiration and productivity that visit me for a while. Sometimes for a few days, others time a month or two. During these times I feel like I can accomplish anything I set my sights on. I find myself writing more, traveling more, planning more, daydreaming more, just doing more of everything that makes me feel better about myself. I'm in a season right now, but something "ain't quite right" with this one. I'm not reaching the full high that I've come to expect. While I'm somewhat inspired, I'm nowhere near as productive as I can be. While I'm writing more, it's not with the same intensity as I've experienced in previous seasons. And daydreaming? While I do that continuously, my fantasies aren't as fulfilling as I know they can be. My imagination can create some fantastical imagery that entertains me during the day and in my dreams. Lately, the thrill appears to be waning. I wonder what role stress is playing. Am I not consuming enough protein to properly fuel the electrical impulses responsible for the visions, feelings, and emotions that comprise my subconscious sleep? My imagination is not providing the good times that I'm accustomed to. Something's afoot.

Feels So Good

Every now and again I encounter an image that conjures such strong emotion in me that I have to grab the nearest writing tool to capture what's coming. This image was created by an artist unknown to me. I wish I could give him or her credit, but unfortunately this image, like so many others, is just out there, belonging to no one, but conceived by someone. I want to give the artist credit, if you know a name or website, please let me know. I want to pay my respect. I spotted this image on a messageboard and found it so serene, so striking. I felt something. The woman was telling me what she was thinking. This is what I could gather:

You wanna know something?
It had never happened for me, that whole love thing
Reciprocity, romance, security, being "the one"
But then He happened. For me.
I had accepted the fact that nobody wanted me
But then He happened. For me.
I had to ask God if he had the right person
Didn't want to get my hopes up. Know what I mean?

Mmmm, mmmm, I don't want to go to work today
Just want to lay up under this man
It's been so long, so long since I felt so good
I wouldn't be any good at any job today anyway
Not after last night, and the night before that, and the night before that

This man makes me feel so good
He even smells good too
Nothing from a bottle, just something special his pores secrete
And don't get me started on the warmth of his breath and the body that creates it
I want to savor and cherish the moment, just in case this is all a dream
Know what I mean?
I would hope life wouldn't be so cruel, but I know how cruel life can be

Life, please, I beg you, don't
Just let me relax, and enjoy his touch and the way I feel right now
I feel so good

(Copyright Jennifer Singleton 2010)