Skip to main content

The end of a thing is better than its beginning...

I was born in Los Angeles, raised in a small Texas town, and grew up in New York. I guess you could say I'm an honorary New Yorker with Southern sensibilities. Now I live in LA again. When I was a kid, I used to imagine how much better off I would be if I were growing up somewhere -- anywhere -- else. LA was usually at the top of my list. Now that I'm here, I see why my mom got us out of here.

LA is one of the most beautiful contradictions I've ever encountered. It's looks great here. There's sun, sand, beautiful beaches, and the best weather in the country. (Of course, Tony! Toni! Tony! lied when they said that it never rains in Southern California. In fact, it's raining today. But I digress.) Everything you've ever seen on TV about this place is true.

The contradiction comes in when you look at the people and the way they live. There's a "California Girl" asthetic of being slim and long-haired that everyone feeds into. Since a size 10 is considered plus sized, people work out constantly. As for the hair, it's absolutely crazy. While a fly cut would be the bomb in New York, here it's all about having hair traipsing down your back. Weaves are big business, and I'm convinced that Cali has the best hair I've ever seen.

Everyone is chasing what they THINK is cool. I've heard so many people say things like, "Oh, that's old." It's all about the trendiest thing. It's like the whole city takes its cues from people like Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton. Even the Black people. It's insane.

At this stage in my life, I don't have time to govern myself according the latest issue of Cosmo. I'm a grown woman who has a pretty good sense of self. While no one can claim to know themselves completely, I'm well on my way to being able to figure myself out. I'm so glad my mother had the good sense to take me to place where reality rules and reigns. I'm also thankful for every place I've been and lived because they've made me the person I am today.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.