Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Long time No See?
It has been a while since I last scribbled on these walls. However, as my life continues to twist and turn I've documented journey within the pages of another virtual outlet.
If interested, you can now find me on
Vox as Mahoganie.
As always, I welcome you to be a
voyeur in my so-called life.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
10:16 PM ::
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Monday, October 02, 2006
Make Me Over, but Don't Make Me Over
Last night I was watching one of my favorite episodes of Sex and the City. In the episode titled "The Real Me," Carrie finds herself pondering over an invite to participate in one of New York's hippest fashion shows. In all her modesty, she questioned if she really was high fashion, runway material. After all, what made her so special to be a model? After a little push from her gal pals, including Stanford, the "boy friend," and reassurance that she would be able to keep the threads from the designers that hand picked her to model their stuff, she said yes.
What makes me love this episode so much is Carrie's modesty and her honest realization that she is just an ordinary person and she is pretty pleased with that. I also love the fact that her ordinary, girl next door looks could easily be transformed into some kind of - for lack of better words - a sexy siren. With a few added hair extensions and a nice but not overly done make up job, Carrie strutted down the catwalk in stilettos, a pair of jeweled Dolce and Gabbana panties and a beautiful satin deep purple trench coat. Of course the comic relief in all of this is Carrie falling flat on her face before she could get down the runway good. Yet, she managed to get up, dust herself off and strut. Needless to say she did receive a standing ovation in applause and cheer, including a high five from supermodel Heidi Klum, for her act of runway bravery.
In watching that episode (for the God only knows how many times), it only reminded me more of how I desperately want to reinvent myself. The funny thing is, the more I think about reinventing myself, the more the thoughts become this huge snowball of other thoughts. Basically, I’m led to believe that I need a whole renovation of my life. Things or status levels that I longed for at 22 and 23 I'm still longing for - a more financial stable life, a place to call my own, a job I'm in love with and can say I'm fulfilled by and a special companion to share my all with.
I remind myself time and time again that I've come a long way from being the isolated and tormented soul I use to be. I’m grateful for having made it through that dark portion of my life and was able to make significant strides. However, there is still more to go. There are still things that I desire to accomplish, with my two biggies - finally pushing out my novel to print and the documentary I'm slowly but surely piecing together to pitch/propose. I guess in the end I do want to be "That Girl." Yanno, the one that is turning heads in a room from my accomplishments and beyond without uttering a word. I guess I do desire some portion of the limelight, but not for the sake of being vein.
There is this song called "Don't Make Me Over" that Dionne Warwick sung back in the day. A singer called Sybil in the early 90s later remade it.
Don't make me over/ Now that I'd do anything for you/ Don't make me over/ Now that you know how I adore you
Don't pick on the things I say, the things I do/ Just love me with all my faults, the way that I love you/ I'm begging you
What's funny is, as much as I desire to have some kind of a make over in my life done, I fear having it. I have a fear of loosing parts of myself that I hold dear, especially my humbleness. I don't ever want to loose that part of me. So what exactly do I want to change? It's kind of hard to tell. I want to change my outside appearance - my hair, my wardrobe, even a better makeup job. I try, but somehow in my efforts, I still manage to be this low-key, eclectic, quasi bohemian-like chic. On the inside, I would like to add a little more self confidence. There are still some parts of me that feels like this shy and docile little girl. On a few occassions I've had people tell me I should be more assertive, but I tend to pick and choose my battles. I don't jump out and voice my opinion at the drop of every dime. If I feel the need to be assertive then I will be. Otherwise, I kind of accept (my) life for what it is.
Accept me for what I am/Accept me for the things that I do/Accept me for what I am/Accept me for the things that I do
At the beginning of the year I did declare that 2006 was a year of transition. I also declared a mantra of some sort of being young and living. So far, both my declarations have not failed me. I feel myself fighting in a way, contemplating and still transitioning into something that seems to be beyond me. In the midst of all of this, I have managed to live a calmer life with a few occssions of living on that edge between the person I use to be and the person I'm transitioning to be.
Maybe that's it! maybe the make over I'm desperatly seeking won't happen until this transition phase is complete. Maybe I need to comppletely purge myself of all the dead weight that I still may be carrying from the past in order to press on. Maybe that's what's holding me back, the leftover dead weight that lives in nooks and crannies and refuses to leave.
By the end of the year, I hope to purge whatever demons are left. I hate being stuck in one emotional place.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
10:40 PM ::
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Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Introspective Thinking
Today was one of my many Aquarius mood days. Not that I was negatively moody, but I just felt the need to take the quiet road and just listen and observe the world. Actually today was the first time in a while that my health really didn't bother me. My stomach felt fine and I was able to scarf down a banana once I got to work. A few seconds later I became thirsty and was seriously craving the Dragonfruit flavor of Vitamin Water.
I decided to take a walk to the 7 Eleven that is a couple of blocks over. During the walk, I didn't think about nothing in particular. I briefly thought about a 15 year old that was in the news this morning. He had gone missing over the weekend and was found dead yesterday. He turned out to be one of my mother's ex-students. In the midst of such a thought, I thought about how beautiful of an early fall morning it was. The sun was out and there was this breeze that felt good on my skin. I thought about what I had to get done for the day and didn't stress, because I had a feeling that my day was going to be pretty easy. All I had to do was look over a few articles, edit and do some writing.
Before I knew it, I was walking into the 7 Eleven and immediately noticed a group of police officers gathered in a corner. By their banter and laughter you could tell they weren't up to any "official police business." It was just a morning with the boys. I was a bit pissed that the store was out of the Dragfruit, I settled with the Grape flavor. I just wanted something to hydrate me and keep my stomach calm at the same time. As I made my exit I could feel the eyes of the police officers on my back, they had stopped talking for those few seconds and as soon as I was outside I heard them resume their morning conversation. What was that about? I will never know.
Around the corner I noticed a guy that was just in the 7 Eleven a few minutes before I was. There was nothing special about him. He seemed to be a painter with his white paint stained overalls and white shirt. He looked to be somewhere in his 40's. He was a beautiful dark chocolate complexion, but his teeth were kind of messed up as they were crooked and yellow. In a way he looked goofy, especially with the bifocals. Before I could easily dismiss him he said something that simply made my day.
"You have a good look about you. You are attractive. I'm sure whatever man you are with right now, he is lucky."
Okay, I know that men are going to men no matter how goofy, good-looking, their social background or whatever. Men are going to flirt and say things like that. A statement or line such as the one above could be just as empty as a person with no soul. So why did that man's compliment make me smile? Because, sometimes we need to hear it. Sometimes it's easy to forget that you are beautiful in someone's eye, especially if you have been feeling really crappy lately.
However, the strange thing is, as much as his compliment made me smile it made me sad. I thought how it's funny that it's always the complete strangers (especially the crazy looking ones) that give me compliments like that. What I really find funny is the ending - "Your man is lucky." The last time I heard that I was "dating" Hazel and I knew deep down he didn't know how "lucky" he was. Yet I smiled and pretended he did, because of all the sweet "nothings" he said that I wanted to hear. A statement like that really makes me think do the men in my life really and truly know how lucky they are to have me in their life, especially if I am serious about them? Not saying that I am "The Shit" or "I AM THE BE ALL AND END ALL," but when I'm into someone I give myself unconditionally to the point where others in my life may feel that I am neglecting them.
Anyone reading this might easily say "that's just tough tiddies for the guy. If he can't "see" you than it's his loss." I would totally agree with that, but it's just frustrating when you look up one day and realize you've been giving your all to the wrong person. As liberating as the realization maybe, there will still be a part of you that can't help but to feel hoodwinked.
Question is, who bamboozled you? You or him?
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
9:23 PM ::
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Saturday, September 23, 2006
Emily Still Lives
I chickened out. Emily's funeral was today. I wanted to go to at least represent my family since everyone is out of town at the moment, but I found it hard to muster of the courage. Though I've been okay with her passing, part of me still has been struggling with her death. It's the fact that she died so young in a war that no one knows a cause for. It's the fact that it seemed like she had her whole life ahead of her, but for some reason God saw another plan for her.
During the past week in the midst of a turbulent ride with my health, some nights I slept comfortably, while a couple of nights in thinking about Emily I woke up to a harsh and yet sobering reality. Thus life goes on and all of us that grieve for her will eventually find some peace in her death. In a way I found peace as I saw her obituary posted in Thursday's Washington Post. A picture of her in full West Point miltary attire was attached to it as well as a link for a guestbook. I signed the book with a (more so) personal message to Emily.
Emily, I've been having a hard time dealing with your passing. Though I didn't take the chance to know you personally, I bascially watched you grow into a beautiful young lady at church from the time you first arrived as a teenager. Your smile and energy lit up a room. I witnessed the love you have for God and all the love you and your parents shared with each other. As I try to make sense of what has happened, it does bring some comfort that not only were you a solider for this country, but you were a true solidier for God's army. I loved and admired that about you. Beautiful one, may His peace be with you and may you live in a place where you will continue to be the young and vibrant spirit that you are. You are grately missed by your Peace Baptist Family. Your absence is a void that simply cannot be filled.
This evening as I looked to check a few emails, I received an anonymous message on My Space with the subject "Thought you would be interested to know about this tribute to Emily Perez." I'm thankful for my anonymous writer, because within his message was a link to a blog of sorts and it's a tribute to Emily. The person that posted this tribute refelcted on Emily's life in and outside of the military as she was noted as an all around leader.
How do I feel right now about everything? I'm fine. For I know that her (short) life was not lived in vein.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
11:37 PM ::
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Monday, September 18, 2006
Critical Condition
There are days when I feel like I need to rip open my stomach and just snatch everything inside out. Since late July I have been dealing with an up and down wave of indigestion problems. Yeah, I know. Shame on me for not seeking a doctor sooner. Well, there was the issue of enrolling into an affordable health care plan, which I did and finally received my health card around late August. Even then I procrastinated in finding a doc. I guess I didn't press the issue further, because it seemed that things were ok. I didn't have any of the discomfort, pain or nausea feeling I had been having by the time I did get the card. It was when my symtoms came back that I made an appointment with a gastric specialist, but the earliest I could get in was for October 11th.
Out of nowhere, the symtoms started to come back. Well, maybe it didn't come out of nowhere. What I have been noticing is that during those stressful times at work or outside of work, my indigestion problems arise. This morning was too excrutiating to stay at work. I had come into work late and just as I figured Mr. Yellow was on my case about that. Actually, to be honest I have been arriving to work late since this problem started, because the morning is one of my worst times. It takes me a lil bit longer to get myself together, because of pain, cramping or nausea. I'm always battling, do I need to sit on the toilet, lean over te toilet or do I need to just drink some juice or something to calm my insides?
I gave Mr. Yellow a brief rundown of what's going on with me. He knew about my upcoming appointment, but I told him I'm trying to see if I can get it a bit earlier. I told him I was in pain, and yet I had sat there to at least finish out a few things so they could go through for tomorrow. There are projects that we (the whole staff) are working on for a client, and they are giving us a tight schedule to complete things, just so they can have there stuff accounted for by the end of the fiscal year. So yes, this is a city government agency. May God help us with this....
Nevertheless, around noon I left. I had to. A couple of time I found myself almost in tears, because the pain was that intense. What's suprising is I have sort of befriended a lady, Ms. W, that is doing some contract work for us. For some reason she has taken a liken to me and when I told her what is going on (I was almost crying on the phone when talking to her), she wanted me to come over so she could share some of her remedies with me. First I must say, I'm in love with her apartment. She lives right in the heart of Capitol Hill in a building that use to belong to the telephone company - C&P/Bell Atlantic. Her apartment is a loft and she has a beautiful view of Constitution Ave and the lightening in her apartment was perfect. What's interesting is, if I had a loft, she has it decorated in a style that I would want to decorate mine - with art by African American artists. The only thing I wasn't feeling was her wall to wall carpet. While it did make the place nice and plush, I have a thing for hard wood floors. Maybe that has something to do with this house having hardwood floors.
Anywho.... she loaded me up with herbal teas and other remedies that are for colon cleansing and flushing out the digestive system. I was grateful that she was nice enough to share her with me. She told me that she doesn't even give her stuff out like this, but she knew I had been dealing with this for a while and she was concerned, especially as my appointment seems so far away. When I did make it home, I was hit with this dizzy feeling and a headache. All I wanted to do was to get comfortable, drink one of the teas and see if I could eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I did all of the above and became highly sleepy. I managed to make a couple of phone calls, including one to the doc to see if I could move the appointment. Go Fig! Her staff was at lunch and their pre-recorded message was on.
I drifted in an out of sleep for a few hours and finding the tea starting to do it's work. Ms. W told me not to be alarmed if my stomach started to feeling funny. It was simply just the herbal remedies attack any bacteria or parasites in your system and you will eventually flush them out. I woke up around 4 to fix some chicken noodle soup. I noticed how I wasn't in pain anymore and I did manage to eat a small helping of the soup. Soon I was back to lala land.
I don't know if it was the tea or just my mind being funny, but somewhere along the line I managed to have a dream about me in a restroom with this middle age Native American lady. I notice how she was looking at me as I was washing my hands, as if she as studying my methods for placing the soup on my hands and cleansing them. Suddenly, she began to speak, but she started telling me about tribal rituals and mainly something about how all the women in her tribe were married with children. I was soaking up her "spill" about whatever she was talking about and I started asking questions. Then I asked her something about Native American women and marriage. I think it was because she told me that everyone women in her tribe was married and I was shocked by that. I don't remember my exact question to her but it was something like "are you sure? No one is not married?" Her answer was something like, "Everyone is married. That's how we repopulate our tribe"
Anyone that is a Native American female and reading this, please don't take offense to my dream. I have no idea what the heck was going on and it may have something to do with me and my feelings towards marriage, which is another topic of its own.
With all of this being said, more than likely I'll be heading to work tomorrow to make sure that a couple of the projects are okay. Depending on how I feel will determine if I will be staying all day or not. All I know is... my body right now feels broken. The pain is gone, but I still feel this wait of exhulstion and I'm craving chocolate chip cookies. However, I'm staying away from sweets for a minute until I feel I can handle them. I have a dull headache, and my tummy and my intestines feel like they are doing mini flips.
Wonder if I should drink more tea.....
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
8:57 PM ::
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Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Another Life Taken Thanks to Bush's War
I'm numb. I don't know if I should be outraged and seek to throw something at someone so they can feel this sudden pain or if I should just stand still and shed my tears.
I thought it unusal for my parents to come home a little earlier than normal from Bible study. When they came through the door, that when I was hit with the terrible news. The kind of news no one, especially parents of children in "Bush's War" wants to hear.
A young lady by the name of Emily Perez, a member and daughter of our church had been killed this week in the latest wave of violence in Iraq. I stood on the steps in shock and unable to move. I repeatedly kept asking "she was killed over there?" I was in disbelief. My mother kept confirming it for me. I eventually sat on the steps and cried a bit.
I remember Emily when she first arrived to our church. It was during the wave of change when we had just installed a new pastor and first family. The Perez's, Emily's parents, have been long time friends of our pastor and came to our church to follow pursuit in worship and to serve as associate pastors. Emily was beautiful. I always thought she was and I always believed that she would grow up to be nothing but an intelligent beautiful lady. She was high school age when she first arrived and though I didn't take the chance to know her more personally, I remember just watching her grew up gracefully.
She was very spiritual, with a bright smile that light up any room. I was a bit stunned when I found out that after high school she wanted to attend West Point, especially in this day in age under the Bush Administration. Yet, many believed it was because she wanted to follow her father's - who was also a military man - footsteps in a way. If I remember correctly her father and my pastor were together in the military for a few years in Germany. That's how their families became close.
Emily made it through West Point and before I knew it, I was hearing news that she was going to Iraq. I don't know if I should disclose any info on her job duties there, but just to say when my father found out about it, he knew right away that she would be in a dangerous position.
It was just last November when, she shipped off. Unfortunately, because my own attendance in church hasn't been so great, I can't remember when was the last time I had seen her, but anytime she was seen in church I always heard about it through my mother. Emily had just been home a month ago on the two week pass and now, without warning, she is gone.
What's erie, it was just Monday I was looking at an archived article from the Washington Post of all of the reported casualities of the Iraq War. I scare myself sometimes, because when I do something that erie and don't know why, it's always revealed to me a short time later. For some reason when I was skimming through those names (by the way it was a list from last Dec) I was looking to see if by chance I knew anyone on it. Soon after I went back to the front wepage of the post and read a small headline pertaining to the brutal fighting that has been taking place over there this week.
I'm hurting for the Perez family. Emily was their only child. I'm hurting, because this war is just as senseless as any regual street violence. Why the fuck are we there????? Who are these dumb folks that put Bush and all of his "men" (including Condi) back in office? I'm certainly not one of them!!! Who has time for this sort of shit where a President wants to play Cowboys and Indians with the foreign nations? Certainly not I!!!!!
I can't make sense of any of this now. All I know is, I'm exhaulsted for those that our fighting for "our defense." Though I hate to use the term babies, because essentially they are adults, but when you look at the ages of those being killed... 18... 19... 20.. 21....22... 23... life hasn't fully begun for them.
Emily was just 21. Because of the love I have witnessed within her and her parents, the love they have for each other and the love for God, my soul feels easy to know that she is okay for the most part, but the part of me that is aware of what is going on, it's restless and it hurts.
It's times like these when I wish I was some kind of Superwoman and could do something and much more to ease the pain of the family.
My mother told me that everyone in Bible study was so distraught, all they could do was outline the lesson plan for the season and go home for the night. The news just hit everyone today. Her parents were notified at 6:30 this morning. Emily will surely be missed.
Rest in peace - Beautiful one.
This really hurts.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
9:13 PM ::
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Sunday, September 10, 2006
Euphoria Equals Exhaustion
In the past three weeks I have found myself caught up in a whirlwind of events, all of which I have reached some kind of euphoric state.
The last time that I wrote an entry about work, I never did mention anything about my interview with the former Mrs. BET. Needless to say I was mezmorized as I was strolling with her and my mother (yes I took my mother along for the ride) on her Middleburg, VA estate. Everything was so breathtaking and the enviroment was so sirene. I loved talking with her. For one she caught me by surprise as I did not expect her to be as animated and as comfortable as she was, especially during the photoshoot.
Somehow I was able to knock myself back into reality after the interview and photo session was over. I had to high tail it back to DC to prepare for the networking event given by the magazine. The event went well as it was the premire for future events to come. I did find myself very tired as I didn't make it back home until 10 o' clock that evening. The following week seemed to have rolled by quickly at work, but I realized I was feeling a bit empty inside. I couldn't figure out what it was. What was even more disturbing, that weekend I was anticipating my family reunion. It did take place and I was happy to see my tribe, of whom I haven't seen in years. However, on the eve of the reunion I had a very restless night that resulted from a combination of an upset stomach and a dream I had.
In my dream, I ran into a cousin of mine from my father's side of the family. She was telling me she had moved to Montgomery County, MD and all I could worry about was the house she left behind in DC. In reality, she does live in DC by RFK stadium and I know how much the house means to her since it belonged to her father. Her father gave her the house and she did some improvements and it's very comfy. In the dream my cousin assured me that she didn't sell the house, but she was looking for a renter. It was then that I begin to bargain with her about how much I could afford to pay her for rent. We settle on a price of $750 and I move in. The disturbing part comes in when I realized that I spent all my money in paying her for rent that I didn't have anything left to buy furniture. I started freaking out. I don't remember how the dream ended. The last thing I remember about the dream, was me in the living room with green carpet (in reality the carpet is brown) and the house is empty. I was crying in the living room and I did notice there was some kind of shadow casted on the wall.. as if it were from the light outside.
I've been struggling to find the exact meaning of the dream, only to say that it could have something to do with my job and how empty I feel about it now. I didn't realize how empty I felt about it until this past week. For one, Mr. Yellow made me attend this benefit luncheon at the the Omni Shoreham Hotel this past Wednesday. I didn't complain about it, because I looked at it as a "fieldtrip" outside of work. I have also realized I don't like being couped up in the office all day long for five days a week. The YMCA holds the luncheon every year and it is to honor distisguishing women who have made some kind of community difference. These were some heavy hitting ladies. One of the honorees was a well know local jounalist who is now running her own non-profit documentary production company, Ms. RP. In listening to her talk during her presentation, I began to feel this unexplainable feeling. I felt filled and it was then I understand why I needed to be there. It was to meet her.
Suddenly, all of my motivation and my zest that I had towards making a documentary resurfaced. It's not just any documentaray, but it's on a topic that I have come to place near my heart and pray that I can handle and accomplish - Black women and our mental health. After the luncheon I was able to steal away a couple of moments of Ms. RP's. I briefly told her what I was trying to do, but I felt like I was all over the place as far as organizing things and drafting this proposal. She looked at me with a smile and said,
"You sound like me when I first started doing this. I was all over the place too. It's going to take some time, but you have to be patient with it."
She offered her help and gave me her card. She told me to call her so we can discuss the matter further. I plan to take her up on that. How soon? I'm praying very soon. I left the luncheon feeling filled, humble in a way and hopfully that I could possible press on with my goals as far as the documentary is concerned.
Within that same day, I recieved a call from a guy that Mr. Yellow knows. He asked me if I would be willing to serve as a reporter for the next two days at the Congressional Black Causcus Annual Legislative Conference. Of course I didn't turn the opportunity down, but I was not expecting to be as invovled as I was. I was one of those busy bee media folks with that big ass press badge walking about the convention center. For two days I worked the conference from 8 am to nearly 7 pm. I wrote stories for the in house conference daily publication, "The ALC Daily." My first story turned out to be a "front pager." I mananged to work out five stories with four of them being published.
Again, it was another euphoric experience being in the midst of top notch Black proessionals - the congressmen and women, some of my former co-workers in the federal government and even running into two close buddies of mine that are in the media business as well. This was my first time attending the conference outside of being invited to the after parties. The only downer was me being invited to the Barak Obama Black and White party and I had to turn it down because I had to finish up two stories to be printed for the next day. I can't explain the feeling I received from working that conference. As much as I hated getting up at the crack of dawn to be at the convention on time and almost rushing as I fought morning traffic, I looked forward to the day(s).
Now that it's all said and done, I'm now left feeling half full. I'm still reeling from my experiences with such influential people, but as I look ahead and see that I have to return to the office tomorrow, my stomach feels a little sour. Every now and then I go back to my dream and compare it to how I was first told that I had the job by Mr. Yellow. In the beginning I did bargain with him a little over pay. He budged a little, but not much. Me freaking out in my dream is more so of me freaking out now, because I'm caught up in trying to figure out is this something I should stick with for a little while longer or seek and exit now. My stomach stays in knots most of the time and I'm finding that I'm completely tired by the end of the day all of the time... but from what?????
I'm just praying that this week ends like all the rest of them have thus far. Quick! Yet I fear that Mr. Yellow will find some way to make it a stressful one.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
10:01 PM ::
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