Skip to main content

Saturday in Hell...

I'm sitting in a Starbucks on Crenshaw Boulevard because a) my cave of a home doesn't received adequate wireless Internet service, and b) it's hot as Hell itself in there.

I personally think it's a crime against nature for an apartment to be hot. I knew it didn't have an air conditioner when I rented it, but I swear I didn't think it would be this miserable. This is one of those days when I'd like to lounge around the house, but there will be none of that as long as Satan himself is posted up on my couch.

In fact, it was the heat that woke me up this morning. I was a sweaty mess in my bed, so I got up, took a cold bath (really, there's nothing like a cold bath to cool your body down), and headed here. I bought a caramel frappuccino and posted up with my laptop to cool off, write, and people watch.

This particular location is bustling with activity. Not only is it the weekend, but it's also across the street from Leimert Park, Los Angeles' version of a cultural Black community. Every weekend, the people gather to play the drums and dance around. Call me crazy, but I don't see the culture in that. I need to understand what the point is. If you're calling on the ancestors or honoring something, okay. I don't get it, but I can respect it. At this point, it just looks like a bunch of weirdos flailing around in an attempt to look deep.

Anyway, all kinds venture into this coffeehouse. Some are here with their laptops to take advantage of its hot spot status. There are a few using the comfortable spot to chat with friends and make business deals. However, I think the majority are just here to escape the heat. I know I am.

I don't know if I'll ever leave. After all, that would involve me going outside, and that's what I can't do until the temperature drops somewhere below the hellish range.

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.