Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

Over the years, I've felt that sting of racial injustice...when Amadou Diallo's killers were let off the hook for shooting an unarmed man 41 times...and when Rodney King's attackers were acquitted despite videotaped evidence. Now, I feel that way about the Trayvon Martin murder. In case you've been under a rock, George Zimmerman shot the 17-year-old in cold blood because he looked "suspicious." Martin was armed, alright...with an iced tea and some Skittles. His killer hasn't been arrested because he supposedly shot him in self-defense. Seriously? This child was 100 pounds lighter and 11 years younger than him. He was told by the 911 dispatcher to stop following the kid. And call me crazy, when someone is begging for their life -- as heard on the 911 calls from neighbors -- they're hardly in a position to be "threatening." The thing that makes my heart ache is that Trayvon could be any of our sons, brothers, nephews, cousins, and friends. Do y...

Sometimes I wonder... What did I do to end up single at 41. Why none of the guys I loved really loved me back. Where I'd be if I'd never taken chances. Sometimes I wish... That I was skinny and beautiful. That I had children. That I was a better housekeeper. Sometimes I think... That being me is better than being someone else. That my choices have landed me in this quagmire of foolish indecision. That I need more than I probably do. Please explain to me why... My job make me sad. I want to unburden myself, but find myself too afraid to reveal my heart. Rainy days make me too reflective. This is one of those days that I wish I was lost in someone's arms. I'm so tired of being alone. Honestly, I just want to be someone's special someone. And I wonder if if I missed that train because I was too busy working, or socializing, or sleeping. I find myself reflecting on situations that were completely impossible, looking for the redemption that was never found. I'm tired...