ahhhhh

Before I go further....let me say this...my flat shoes consist of 1 pair of black boots, 1 pair of dirty white converse, 1 pair of brown timbs, and 1 pair of black fuggs (fake uggs for those who aren't familiar).

I have 1 pair of flip-flops for the summer. Even my sandals have at least a lil wedge or something.

My feet are cute. I wear shoes that fit - no supermodel toes here.

But my big toes on both of my feet hurt constantly. It started about a year ago....

Ahh yes! I wore 5 inch heels and was standing in them ALL night. From 10pm to 11am. And ummm, yea, despite the last post...maybe I'm not meant to be "tall."


The pain was dull.

Another pair of shoes, another ball. (Multiply x 10...since...you get the picture)

When did I become this person?

in high school, my highest heels were 2 inches. They were only worn in church or at special work functions. And I kicked them off after an hour, citing cruel and unusual punishment.

Somewhere between 2003 and 2006, the heels became higher and higher until, yes...a month ago I tried on some 6-inchers and looked zexy.

It was the gays!!! They changed me. The more pageants I competed in, the more I won, the higher the heel became.

And I can't stop...oh no I can't stop! (Brief Kanye moment)

The pain on my left foot is shooting up to my mid-calf. Did I mention I'm about to marry someone (anyone!!) for health insurance?

Common sense says to stop...(see 7 lines up)...but ummmm...those choices don't stand up to say...a SNOWSTORM! They're fuggs not the real thing. I think the Timbs are a lil heavy. I've been wearing them for the past couple of days and the pain is there. On Sunday, the black boots were fine.

Get thee to a podiatrist! Stat! I went to one I could afford: G.oogle..


(No I didn't go.ogle a podiatrist...) Dr. G.oogle scared the be-jeezus out of me. It talked about bone deformities, bunions, and all types of craziness...(See earlier in post...I have pretty feet) I might have to shell out funds for a real doctor.

In the meantime, I've been wearing low heels (3 inches, tops) at work everyday. I thought chunky heels would help better than a stiletto because there's more support but...NOPE!

So...I do what I can until a better option comes along. In the meantime...anybody looking for a wife...???

(only half-joking...)

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Short n Tall

I'm short

I'm short on height, on sleep, on patience, on inspiration to write, on attention span, on free time, on ME-time, on tolerance for people who are loud, on people who MUST speak loudly all day - really do I HAVE to hear your voice non stop for 7 hours? Don't you get a headache from talking all day? on the ability to just make conversation with random strangers in public (sorry BFF...but no!), on a sense of direction MOST times, on money (just thought I'd throw that one right on in...)

I'm tall in bravado. I'm shy as all hell but let me good my foot in the door good...oh, I won't be shy anymore! I'm tall...in love...love for friends, yes even the harlot I talked about post before last. Love for new friends. I really believe God places people in your life for a reason. For family. Yes, my mama n 'em is crazy but they remind me I'm not alone. For the little engine inside of me that keeps chug-a-lugging along.

Things are HARD for me. But if I can make it to June! JUNE! I'm gonna name my first daughter, June...lol...if I can make it there...I will be ok, financially. I swear, I'm gonna have a party!

I'm tall in appreciation for the almighty dollar. In the doors it can open for you and in its limitations. How much it takes to make one and how easily it can slip through your fingers like sand.

I'm tall in hope and belief that things happen in due time. The right dude will come along. The right job will come along. The right words will come when they need to. The right circumstances will come. If I hold steadfast to my will and I make them happen, I believe it will.

I'm tall in generosity. If I have a dollar, you can get 50 cents...hell, the whole dollar if I get paid the next day, lol.

I'm tall in the refreshing and everlasting love from God and his renewing forgiveness. I have faith that if I try to reach out to Him, maybe He'll be the first man in my life to meet me half-way.

I'm tall in my belief that love is possible. It may not be the happily ever after version but it is attainable and sustainable.

I am tall in good intention.

I'm tall in compassion for the human condition.

I'm tall in curiosity and my quest for adventure.

I am trying to remember the person I used to be. I am trying to remember the me before the Mr. Phil's and the Afroman's and the Aussie's. I'm trying to remember the me before my father died. I'm trying to remember who I was and who I thought I could be before the little betrayals, the backstabbing, the condemnation, the jealousy, the anger, the resentment and bitterness.

I am trying to forgive.

I am trying to remember the color of the sky before the gray clouds cluttered my vision.

I am breathing fresh new air. Oh yes, I'm breathing deeply. I am rebuilding what they tried to destroy.

I am becoming whole again.

And it is terrifying. It is frustrating. It is daunting and exhausting.

But I am tall.

Today is exactly one month since my birthday. I didn't even realize it until like 2 seconds ago. Yes, God has a plan for me.

I am grateful.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Blogger BBQ!!

Liz, Young Woman, and I were talking...and we thought it would be great to have a big blogger bbq sometime in the summer. Kind of like a family reunion-style bbq somewhere central so that we can all meet, eat, and hang out.

What's Central?
Well, that depends on you! Right now with YW in the MD/DC area, me in NY, and Liz in NJ...central means like.....Philly or Delaware (I'm not good with geography. That's where Liz comes in..lol)

Central can change based on Cali girl Jane or Ohioans Mr. Socialight and Monie...yes I'm calling Negroes out!

If you're interested...leave a comment with your location and email address. If you don't feel comfortable leaving that info here,e-mail me at dalipstickbandit@gmail.com! Any suggestions you have is always helpful!

So, come out! Eat! Have fun and mix it up with your blogger fam!

Buck the MTA!

It is 12 degrees outside with a windchill of -3 degrees.

Why, oh why, would you close ANY train station? So, I walked down as the train was coming after leaving work EARLY only to walk 2 extra blocks in the above-mentioned weather...to wait 25 minutes for a local train which means I left early for no reason. And while the local was right across from the express at one stop, someone decided that it shouldn't wait for people like me who MIGHT want to transfer...nooooooooo.....but, yet and still, you want more $$ for a frickin metrocard....

Hmph!
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Circles

Please, dear friend, I love you! Stop seeking attention from men! Stop sleeping with them even when you know they don't want a relationship, then talk feel some type of way and try to pressure them into one. Please. Look in the mirror. Know your worth. Really really. Know it. You are so beautiful and so precious and you try to be so tough. You are broken but you keep running away from your brokenness. It hurts but feel it. Go through it. You'll be stronger. Stop seeking it outside of yourself. In 2 years, you haven't been single for more than a minute. Enough. This situation sounds like the one before and the one before that and the one before that. Isn't it all exhausting? I want to shake you. I want to hold you. I want you to just stop. Only long enough to reverse what you've done. Its too late and you'll be on my couch and crying on my shoulder soon. You will disregard my advice and soon we'll be in another situation like the last last last last.

But I love you. I will be here for you. I just wish you could see...
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Simul-Post

Someone asked for the address of my other blog. It is

www.dalipstickbandit.com

Its about make-up, fashion, music, etc.

Every Monday, I post something "personal" and this was yesterday's...

Saturday night, I had a 3-hour conversation with someone with whom I, before said conversation, wanted to date. The contents of that conversation are still annoying me at this very moment and will probably continue to annoy me for a few weeks...

Firstly, let me say, all we knew about each other before this conversation is that he is: 25 years old, 6ft 3in tall, black, works in maintenance, has no kids, and is black. All he knew about me is that I'm 23, 5ft tall (lol), black, no kids, and I work an office job.

Ok, the big show....
He said that he knows my kind. I'm a corporate female that dates the hedge fund type of guys but they don't do anything for me. Eventually, I want a hood guy to give it to me rough. I'm an oreo. I look like a black woman on the outside but all he hears is white coming out. I probably live in Manhattan and don't have any connection to black people whatsoever. I don't know about the hood. I've probably been messing with soft dudes my whole life. He's not soft (which he repeated in like 4 or 5 different ways).

He went on to say that he's a hood professional. He's from the hood. He loves the hood. The hood raised him. He did some time in jail for making money the hood way. Now, he's a professional going to school and how if a woman doesn't have an Associate's (at least) he's not messing with her. And blah blah blah.

I swear I didn't say much. What I did say probably amounted to about 30-45 minutes.

He was surprised to learn that I have never dated a white dude or anyone who owned a hedge fund. I still live in Brooklyn. I went to a "rough" neighborhood high school. I just basically refuted 90% of what he said about me. He did get it right that I say "dude" and that I like rock music.

After I said whatever, I asked him what he would want to do on a date. I was curious! Lol. I suggested a museum. He was not really interested. He would go to the finance museum on Wall St. He said he thought it would be a compromise since he knows my kind likes finance. It sounded like the most boring thing to me. "Oh, that's funny. Your kind usually has stocks and bonds and pays close attention to the market."

At that point, I was like...Please stop saying "my kind." Its rude. If you think you know me already, which you DON'T, what's the point of dating me?

He was sorry. He didn't mean to offend me. But he can say that because his past experiences allow him to make certain statements.
Then he said something that made it evident I wasted my time. He said, "Can I call you Becky or Kelly?"

Fuck you!

Its not new that people have said this about me - that I'm an oreo - but with Black History being over and everything, I can say with extreme confidence that being black has nothing to do with where you're born, how you sound, if you speak grammatically correct or not, or any of the bullshit he was selling. I wasn't buying it.

Bottom line: He was ignorant.

I know who I am. I love the beautiful black woman I am growing into everyday. I am who I am and I'm proud.

Be who you are. Be proud of who you are and if people don't understand you or won't even TRY, tell them to keep it moving....
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Casual Intimacies?

A friend (gay male friend) was saying how he has a male "friend" who acts so sensual with him. Massages, cuddling, everything but the big show. He also has 2 people he sleeps with and 2 prospects in the works..he's like that's what he's abt. No full-fledged relationships but casual intimate encounters where he can "have-up" or just relax and chill with people. If they have sex, they have sex...if they don't, they don't. He's like, Damn, it sounds so promiscuous..doesn't it?

I nodded yes but in my mind...
I was like shit! I wish straight boys did that. Sometimes, I miss spooning with Afroman. He was the best spooner. We would talk and cuddle all day. I remember I called out from work one day and we spent the whole day in bed - ordered a pizza, watched a movie, *ahem* (haha), play-fought, spooned, talked...it was the best day ever.

Lately, I've been so confused. I want to be in a relationship, but I don't. I want to sleep with people, but I don't. I want to be single, but I don't. I really want someone to excite me. Move something within me...its been such a long time where I haven't felt like a weirdo to the other sex. Since I could just be me and talk and not have to be a sexier/smarter/funnier version of myself....and it really doesn't have to be someone spectacular.

You don't have to have a cure for cancer in your back pocket or have built an orphanage for children in Africa.

Just be real. Be sweet. Be smart. Be talented in something. Be opinionated. Be goal-oriented. Be aggressive but know when to ease up. Be nerdy, like me :-). Be confident but humble. Be a hard worker. Be able to laugh. Be able to make me laugh. Be able to challenge me mentally. Be able to meet me half-way. Be decent.

Decency goes a long way.

I'm not trying to be promiscuous for many reasons but one of them (besides it gets kinda skeevy at some point) is that I don't have time. My life is complicated. Its crowded and I'm really just trying to section off pieces for myself.

Another weekend has passed. I did nothing of note except clean my living room and had dinner with Liz and Chris tonight. The latter, being totally awesome...yes, be jealous, lol. I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for the 68 hour work week. I need to be independently wealthy like Vanessa Williams minus the herpes (right, Liz)...hahaha!!

Oh yea....my blackness was put into question....that's another post for another day....night folks!
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile