Life Was Never Worse...But Never Better

I've got $400 in my account with more on the way. I finally got bed sheets I've had my eye on for a frickin year. The most perfect Elsa travel outfit landed in my lap. And I'm still putting a good amount of money away. You'd think this would make me happy. You'd be wrong.

This quarantine is taking all that I am and obliterating it. Writing Rainbow is on hold indefinitely (which is the last thing I need after the disaster that was last semester). In the spirit of innovation (and necessity) I've created an online class and while it might afford me a major opportunity; (opening a Kentucky branch of Writing Rainbow, which would be beyond incredible), it's sputtering in fits and starts, which doesn't exactly fill me with confidence about solidifying an online presence. I refuse to offer the online version of my program to Yonkers and Yorktown (my two main locations), which was the inspiration for creating the online class in the first place, if I'm not confidant in what I can offer.

On the other hand, the extra $600 from unemployment has afforded me some crucial opportunities; the acquisition of Disney dresses, for example (the aforementioned Elsa dress plus two others). Oh, and shoes (more on this later). And, of course, a tulle rainbow skirt (obviously a necessity). Add these lovelies to the beefed up savings, the repaid financial obligations, and the strides this has allowed me to make towards future goals (read: moving out) should be more than enough to eclipse the roller coaster ride of anxiety that I somehow ended up on.

But yet here I sit, relishing the boost in financial stability, getting my Disney on...and desperately wishing it was over.

Anti-Social Distancing

So, let's see; I can't go to work (and God forbid unemployment completes my application). I can't go to church. My president's a moron who compares his ratings to The Bachelor. I haven't seen my boyfriend in two months. And the lines at the grocery store (and the sheer insanity of other shoppers) makes me feel like I'm living in a third world country (which, if this continues much longer, I will be). Numb is what passes for a positive emotion nowadays. In the midst of watching my life fall apart a bit of socialization would probably do me a world of good. Enter Courtney's virtual birthday party. Great.

It's not the substitution of Zoom or House party, or whatever the app of the week in place of an actual party I object to; My sister, cousins, and I meet once a week for a VR hangout and, under the circumstances, it's pretty cool. I look forward to it. The difference is, I like them.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't dislike Courtney. I have absolutely no problem with her. As long as I don't have to spend any time with her. Which, in the, how many years has it been since I graduated college...never mind, has been pretty easy to avoid seeing as, until fairly recently, I lived clear across the country. But now, thanks to the God damn plague, I could be anywhere on earth and still be able to attend. Ugh.

So just ignore the invite, right? Who has time for random parties with annoying people? Oh, that's right, I do. Also, there are other people invited whom I haven't seen in forever so it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with them. Plus, I'd get to wear a tiara and have it be in context for a change, seeing as it's a Halloween party.

Wait! Courtney's having a digital Halloween party??? Halloween is in October (damn near November). Could we possibly be trapped in purgatory till friggin November?? I check the invite again. Her party is June 1st. Courtney is having a Halloween party. In June. See what I'm dealing with here?

The Signs Are Everywhere...

Okay, let's start with the fact that I never take the C train. When en route to or from Graham's house I always wait for the A (express) train but, this time, on account of the fact that I was running 15 minutes late (Graham's fault because...reasons!) and didn't have the 12-ish minutes to wait out the A, I got on the C.

I'm reading, counting the seconds till Fulton St and my medium hazelnut coffee when she ambles on to the train. Yet another in an endless line of 'hard luck' stories. Or so I thought. 'Yal'll, I've had some hard times but I've been really blessed. I'm not here to ask you for anything, I just want to sing for yal'll. Fine, whatever. Only...she was good. Really good. Like, put my book away good. Talented as she was that was not the most amazing thing that I saw in that moment; that came from the woman sitting next to me. Her name is Taylor and as the young lady's performance wound down, she called the woman over and handed her a bag containing shoes she'd JUST bought! (amazingly, they're the same shoe size). I was blown away. Before I could ask her anything she turned to me and said something to the effect of "God shows me so much. I'm just glad He allows me to be apart of it." Yeah. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Turns out we were getting off at the same stop (Fulton). We talked about the books we were reading (she had also been reading before this amazing event) and exchanged Instagram handles (taylented).

This past Sunday I watched my sister and cousin lead our church in prayer (our church is between pastors at the moment), as I listened to their passionate expression of faith I was filled with pride, admiration, and awe...and unequivocal conviction that The Lord is indeed a real and tangible presence in what often seems a weary world.

#NotMyAriel...Yeah, I Said It!

So...the whole #notmyariel thing... Don't hate me (actually I'm good if you do) but I'm going to give them this one. And by 'them' I mean the whiners and complainers who boycott Starbucks cups and set Keurgs on fire, otherwise known as some of the stupidest, most aggravating, twits on the planet. But this time they actually have a point. The Ariel of my beloved movie, my original favorite Disney princess  (before I became hopeless, completely, obsessively devoted to Elsa (because she's my spirit animal) ), is white with iconic red hair so is it asking so much that the remake at least pretend to resemble the original?

Let's get one thing straight right here and now: THIS IS NOT A RACE THING! It is an accuracy thing.

When Aladdin came out my mom thought they made Jasmine too white. Because, you know, she's Middle Eastern but didn't necessarily look it. The remake corrected this. Beauty and the Beast? Emma Watson READ A LOT and danced with the Beast IN A BRIGHT YELLOW DRESS. She wasn't re-imagined as an artist in a smock or played by a chic with black hair. When you think of the Little Mermaid what's the first thing that comes to mind? Crayola red hair. As gorgeous as she is, Halle Bailey does not have that signature feature. (Though I hear she has the voice and that's the reason she was chosen).

Think of it this way; if they decide to make a live action Princess and the Frog and cast Tiana as a blond haired, blue eyed socialite, how well do you think it would go over?

Is it a good thing for young girls of all backgrounds to be able to see themselves reflected in popular characters? Of course! So let's create those characters instead of re-branding old ones.

Wandering Through South Philly, Looking for a Bar....

Taking deep breaths as I glare at my phone. Cannot believe the friggin bus driver passed us! No, not passed us, stopped but wouldn't let us on. He let the white woman on but not me and the other black lady. Racism? Maybe (there are other options) but can't deal with that now. Thanks to him I have bigger problems. I have to cash my check before I go to Port Authority. Will I have time? Maybe. Map says I can make it. Barely. Ugh! Risk it???

Finally on the train. Have to transfer at Yankee Stadium to the D. Might still be able to make it...

Forget it. The D train specializes in making people late. Ugh!! Now I have to go straight there, and even getting to Port Authority on time is going to be iffy.

I make it (to Port Authority, not the check cashing place) with seconds to spare. Graham is waiting where I asked him to, at the Peter Pan bus terminal. Quick kiss hello, come on, we have to go!! He says something about buying tickets but he might as well be screaming into the wind as I'm not even pretending to listen, I don't have time! We don't have time! Besides, I'm way ahead of him on tickets and I tell him so as we dash down the escalator. He's never seen me move this fast. No one has. 

We make it to the bus in time. Now I can relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor. And it is marvelous; Graham is looking around, trying to figure it out. He doesn't. Where are we going, he asks. I smirk and point to the gigantic Philadelphia sign as they call for us to board the bus. You're taking me out of state?! He is stunned. And...upset? Uh oh. I have a tendency to overdo things...

Nope, we're good (I think). We are the last two on the bus which means we can't sit together. This doesn't phase Graham as he settles into a seat several rows in front of me. I realize that, on 19% there is no way my phone is going to make it to Philly. I look around for an outlet and realize it's on the wall of the bus, where the person next to me is seated. Thankfully he is more than happy to accommodate me and after plugging it in, I retrieve my book from my purse. As I prepare to re-aquatint myself with how successful women think (the title of the book tells me they think differently than the rest of us) a text from Graham delays the learning process. It makes me laugh so hard it takes considerable effort not to do so out loud (see pic below).

We make it to Philly and head for our accommodations which is not a hotel but a two bedroom guesthouse where we discover that the keys left by the owner don't work. Sigh. I select 'contact property' from the booking.com website and get...voicemail. Sigh. I send a text...nothing. Sigh. "Are you hungry?" Graham asks. Yes, I am. And so began our trek through South Philly looking for a bar.

And we did indeed find that bar; a misleadingly average looking place that turned out to be so much more.

First of all, it was LOUD! I'm talking neon green with pink polka dots and metallic streamers loud. I felt the base in my veins before I was able to process the beat with my ears. Thank God for jolly ranchers; that plastic cup filled with bright red, icee-style alcohol. Two (or five) of those and that affront to your ears becomes music to your soul. So much the better if that music happens to be 'birthday bitch' which is played when you ask the DJ to play something special in honor of your man. The couple next to us starts Charleston shuffilin and I add this to my list of life goals when Graham refuses to learn this all important social ritual.

The weekend is a blend of homemade chicken fingers the size of Cornish hens that will make you seriously consider moving to the city of poultry, I mean, brotherly love, bacon walnut pancakes with bottomless mimosas, a quick jaunt to Egypt for a dig, and Harvey Birdman-Attorney at law. 

So how'd you spend your weekend? I spent mine wandering through south Philly looking for a bar...

Why I Will Never be Ride or Die

Isn't it wonderful when you find yourself in the kind of relationship where making your s/o happy truly makes you happy? You know, the kind of relationship where you find yourself going to a vintage car show or sample sale willingly (for the most part) because supporting them is important to you. While doing things you might not otherwise enjoy is a sign that you're in the right relationship it is possible to overdo it.

For example, if you tell your s/o that sushi is your favorite food (even though the mere thought of raw fish makes you queasy) because it's their favorite food, you're trying way too hard. 

Suffering though a meal of foods you don't like to impress your s/o is amateur hour compared to, say, having cosmetic surgery to make yourself their fantasy person (yes, this actually happens) is several bridges too far. Also, if you are considering breaking the law in order to prove your love/loyalty it's time to reevaluate your life. 

Ah yes. Ride or die. One of all and all for one. You jump I jump Jack.. This mentality can only end in disaster. I know a woman who takes 'stand by your man' wayyy to seriously. Last week she was served a subpoena to appear in court because her boyfriend may or may not be involved in selling drugs (he did it). She did not take the subpoena well. In fact, while she, in fact, reported to court, she walked out just before being called stating that she didn't want to answer any questions about her boyfriend and telling the lawyer (that had subpoenaed her) that she didn't have to listen to him because she quote "didn't know who he was" en quote. 

Oh honey. No. No. We don't throw away a job, a good job, with benefits, for a man. Any man but especially one who is big on promises but infinitesimal on delivery. You've been involved with this 'man' for seven years. Okay, but what have you actually gotten out of this relationship? Impressive dates? A few, in the beginning... Exclusive? So he says.... Been to his place? Yeah, but.. Met any of his friends? No. Family? No. Any interest in meeting yours? None whatsoever. Talk about living together? He freaks out if I even joke about this... 

Sweetie, if you've been dating someone for more than a year and you haven't met anyone in his life (and it seems as if he could care less about meeting anyone in yours) YOU ARE NOT HIS GIRLFRIEND! 

It's not even like that, you don't understand; he's got a lot going on, it's complicated....

Look, algebra I don't understand, politics is complicated. This? This I get: Your man is in a situation, he needed you, you were there for him. You'd do it again. That's how you get down. Ride or die, all the way. He'd do the same for you.

Sure he would. That's why you've been with him for the better part of a decade but know more about the Real Housewives of Anywhere. 

Have fun in prison. I'm sure he'll wait.

What the Hell is Wrong With Me?

Ever felt as if you've reached a transitional phase in your life? Being within inside voice distance of 37 I have been seriously thinking about what I would like to accomplish in the next 5-ish years. One of those things is deciding where to begin to put down roots; I've never been crazy about the idea of living in Yonkers, (or NY in general) but there are several factors that might require me to stick around such as business ventures. Not mine, my mom's.

My mother, a scenic painter by trade (she paints TV & movie sets), plans on opening an art themed event space and she's going to need a ton of help. Furthermore, my sister just bought a condo in the area and (as much as they drive me crazy), It's easier (for reasons I have neither the time nor the energy to go into) if we stay relatively close. Oh, and this needs to be figured out and in the works sooner rather than later. But, no pressure.

As if this wasn't enough there's another situation occupying more of my thoughts than I'd like to admit and his name is Graham. Graham is my supervisor at work. He's sarcastic, cocky, the kind of crazy intelligent that makes you want to smack him, and reckless on a level usually reserved for 17yr olds. Seriously, the man is frustrating on a level that boggles the mind and if I had any sense whatsoever I'd stay as far away from him as I can. Having said that...we've been dating for a month.

By this stage I've had a few boyfriends, hell I was married for six years, so this shouldn't feel so...new. Not new because it's a new person and a brand new relationship and we are still getting to know each other, but new because... that's just it, I have no idea. 

For the first time since my relationship with my ex-husband was in it's early stages I feel giddy. When I see him or picture him, I find myself smiling shyly. I read the same line six times while working on Writing Rainbow lesson plans before I realize that I'm thinking of him. I honest to God have no idea what's happening to me. More importantly, I don't know how I feel about it. 

All of this; the giddiness, the daydreaming, this indicates happiness, right? But what I feel most is confusion. I'm confused that I'm so enthralled so quickly (as I've said, it's only been a month). I'm worried that I could potentially be falling too fast, opening myself up to all sorts of crap that I'm too damn old to deal with.

I've been there; the drama, the nonsense, and I'm done with it. All of it. Why in God's name would I even want to risk it?

That hair though. And that smile...