My Take on Barack's Nobel Peace Prize

I'm a little late on commenting on President Barack Obama's Nobel Peace Prize win, but I'll add my two cents to the continuing conversation...

Yay for him!

We've been under the cloud of a war-mongering president for eight years, and it's nice for the president of the United States of America to be recognized for peace. Anyone who thinks otherwise is crazy.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...

I was listening to Lauryn Hill's Ex-Factor, and I was struck by was the poignancy of the lyrics:

It could all be so simple,
But you'd rather make it hard.
Loving you is like a battle,
And we both end up with scars.

I started thinking about the scars we carry from relationships. My girlfriends and I have had our hearts broken, but we still try again. I've always thought we're just resilient that way. Meanwhile, the guys that get their hearts broken usually seem to live by the adage, "The best way to get over an old love is to get under a new one."

As I listened to the urgency in Lauryn's delivery and reflected on the ultimate destruction of her career -- thanks to her alleged relationship with Wyclef -- I had to revisit my original thoughts. I've had my share of heartaches, but I haven't been destroyed. The closest I've come was with the ex in New York. However, I'm giving more to Mr. Wonderful than I've ever given, and my heart is a little more fragile now.

If our love doesn't last, I don't know that I'll be able to bounce back. It'll be much harder for me to ignore my feelings and try again. That's not to say I won't, but that's what's on my mind right now.

Here's what's going through my mind...

I can't do this anymore. I can't live out of bags, and I can't be a burden to anyone. All I want to do is be myself again. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that here in California. This is the one place I hate. Even though the weather is great, I hate every other thing about this place. I don't like how I've had to live here.

My nails are raggedy. My hair is horrid. My weight is out of control. And my heart is heavy. I've never felt so low, so completely out of control and out of sync with what I know to be good and true in all my life.

I wish there was someone to blame, but I don't know who that person could possibly be. I didn't have a full-time job before Granny died, but now it's just getting ridiculous...

And then, I get hungry. And as I look for something to eat, Mr. Wonderful says, "I was just about to pop you some popcorn." I love you works for some girls, but the way to my heart is the white fluffy stuff.

I love this man. Things aren't always great, but he's awesome -- even when he's operating in his humanity. This is where we are right now.

It's when things aren't going well that I miss her the most. It's these times when I'd like to climb up in bed next to her and cry on her shoulder. I wanna tell her how much my heart hurts, but I can't. She's gone, and I'm left to my own devices.

At this point, I'm tired. I wanna go home, but there's no home to go to. If I leave California and go to Texas, I won't have a job. If I go to New York, I won't have a place to live. In addition, I won't have enough money to make it. So I'm stuck here on the West Coast -- my very own sunny version of Hell.

Now here's the funny part. Just writing those feelings down, seeing them on paper, makes me feel better. I know things could be worse. One of my good friends is sleeping in her car. Her stuff is in storage, and she's been making her Honda her home. I'm blessed that I have Mr. Wonderful, but I'm not convinced that this is the best thing for me.

It's one thing to be alone, but it's another thing altogether to be lonely when you're with someone. Yes, I live with him -- and that doesn't feel good to me and my sensibilities -- but now he's acting like I don't exist. And after a particular disappointing evening where I performed a service that I wasn't paid for, I came home to find my belongings in a closet. He was like, "I can't live with your stuff like it is."

Let me explain. He has been kind enough to let me stay with him while I get myself together. When I first got here, he cleared out two drawers and gave me part of his small hall closet. Now ladies, I submit to you even if I downsize -- and believe me I have -- that's not enough space. Therefore, I was keeping my stuff in a plastic bag in a corner of the bedroom. I also have stuff in the bathroom and on the nightstand on my side of the bed.

I guess it wasn't enough for him. My stuff was relegated to the closet, and while I normally wouldn't have cared, after the night I'd had, I just wasn't in the mood to be treated like somebody's bad child. He started in on me the minute I came in the house. I sat my keys down and he was like, "That's not where those go." I gave him that bitch please look. After that, I saw what he'd done.

If I were one to curse, cry, and scream, I'd probably feel a lot better. Since I'm trying to be considerate in the face of his grief, I just held my peace. But it's getting harder and harder to look at this man who claims to love me and not say anything.

And that's why I'm missing my grandmother more and more these days. I want to talk to her to find out how she'd handle this situation. She would know exactly what to do because she was magic. And I need a little magic in my life right now.

I hate being level-headed. You know how people love to say, "Let cooler heads prevail?" I'm usually that one. Before I blow up and lose my cool, I try to look at a situation from all angles. After all, most people aren't trying to intentionally hurt you, right? So I'm the one who analyzes a situation to death before burying my anger. And every time I do it, a part of me dies. I do it with my mom, my brother, and now that it's time to do it for Mr. Wonderful, I'm tired.

Let me explain...

Mr. Wonderful is going through a lot right now. In addition to be almost out of work, he's lost his dad this month. Now his daughter is getting ready to make him a grandfather. We all know that any one of those situations has the power to make a grown man cry, and all of them together can be devastating. Trust me, I get that.

However, I have needs that must be attended to. While he's going through this stuff, his physical interest in me hasn't been what it used to be. Okay...I don't like it, but I get it. Even though I tend to drown my pain in sex, I get that other people don't.

Now here's where it gets hairy for me. Mr. Wonderful -- like so many men I know -- likes porn. For the most part, I'm not bothered by that. Guys like to look at naked women. But I have a real problem when I'm here, and you'd rather look at Internet chicks.

What am I supposed to do? I can't compete with those girls -- at least not yet. ;) I'm working out, but I'm beginning to think my fat has launched an all-out war against me. In addition, I'm currently weaveless, which means I'm not looking cute 24 hours a day. And I'm still jobless, which means that I can't afford to get my nails, feet, and hair done as often as I'm accustomed to.

It's not easy to admit your shortcomings or even deal with them on a regular basis. The last thing I need is to think that the man I love doesn't want me. And that's what I felt like when I walked in naked and saw him watching a flick on his computer screen.

I looked at him incredulously and said, "Really?" before turning on my heels and walking out. I got in bed, and tried to rationalize the situation. I wanted to be cool about it because I would like to think he was just being stupid. And he was, believe me. But since I'm always thinking and doing things to keep him happy, I just wish he would do the same for me.

On Healthcare and Racism

I have tried not to comment on what I've seen happening to our country's health care debate. I've sat by and watched our Republican brothers and sisters treat our president like he's a homie in the 'hood with their disrespect. I have done all I can do to not weigh in, but the time has come when I can no longer stay silent.

No matter how you feel about President Obama's plan to reform health care, it's no question that reform is needed. I don't have health care because the company I work for doesn't offer it to its part-time employees. I'm thankful that I'm fairly healthy. If I weren't, I'd be in trouble. I know a guy who can't get insurance because the transplants he had to cure his diabetes put in the pre-existing condition category. He recently had to sell some of his property to have a procedure done on his foot. I could go on and on, but you get the idea.

I don't understand why it's such a big deal to have a governmental-run option for health care. It would be different if we were talking about shutting down the insurance companies altogether. All the president wants to do offer an affordable means to get the care people need.

That really should be the extent of what's being said. Unfortunately, racism has reared its ugly head. If you think it hasn't, you can politely stop reading now and keep it moving. You obviously live in a fantasy world and you won't like what I have to say.

For the rest of you...

President Carter -- an 85-year-old Southern-born gentleman -- said it best when he told NBC News:

I think an overwhelming portion of the intensely demonstrated animosity toward President Barack Obama is based on the fact that he is a black man, that he's African-American. I live in the South, and I've seen the South come a long way, and I've seen the rest of the country that shares the South's attitude toward minority groups at that time, particularly African-Americans.

That racism inclination still exists, and I think it's bubbled up to the surface because of belief among many white people -- not just in the South but around the country -- that African-Americans are not qualified to lead this great country. It's an abominable circumstance, and it grieves me and concerns me very deeply.

No matter how you feel, that's what's real. And I'm glad that a White man said it because when Black people level charges of racism, those who are trying to get out of the term's ugly cover love to say that the ol' race card is being played.

What really kills me is all those people who say we live in a post-racial America. Give me a break. There's no such place -- at least not yet. I'm not saying that it can never exist, it just doesn't exist now. And it won't happen in our lifetime unless we acknowledge the problem.

Having a Black president is a good step in the right direction. However, it does no good if his opposition is hell-bent on discrediting and disrespecting him. I, for one, am tired of everyone acting like it's not true.

My Tribute to Ted Kennedy

My grandmother used to tell us that if there was rain on the day of your burial, it meant that the deceased wasn't a righteous person. As I watch the funeral mass of Senator Edward M. Kennedy, who succumbed to brain cancer earlier this week, I'm struck by that fact.

Since I cannot claim to be a political person by nature, I'm not extremely familiar with the particulars of Teddy's career. However, I know that he's been instrumental in much of the legislation that affords me the opportunity to live the way I want to. Most importantly, I recognize his passing as the ending of an era in American politics.

What has struck me most about the life and times of Senator Kennedy was no matter how privileged he was, he never forgot about the least of us. He and his family lived, breathed, and in many cases died, in public service. He wanted all of us to have equal access to everything this great nation has to offer.

I'm also moved by the great tragedies that this family has had to endure. Watching them deal with the deaths of so many of their members with grace and style has been a sight to see indeed.

Was Teddy Kennedy a righteous man? I'm not sure. I know he was a passionate and robust man who lived fully, loved deeply, and cared for the least among us. He was the kind of friend that everyone wanted to have in their corner, and a rival that fought to the very end of a thing. He made his mistakes, but the word that comes to mind is redemption.