Loss of Space, Disgrace

I have been faced with some kind of unknown exhaustion. 

I am tired and lacking of energy to work out, go to the gym, exert myself, I just want to go to work and then, come home and plop up in front of the TV. Because of this I have noticeably gained weight, and I've noticed this but I don't seem to care. I've worked out on occasion but not as much and as zealously as I used to. I don't know what's wrong with me. Scratch that, I have an idea of what's wrong with me, but I don't know if it is 100% to blame for the sudden lack of energy and zeal to do anything. 

This is all premature craziness that I wish would resolve itself so I could get back on the Anita program, but everyday it's still the same, it's still the same lost hope, acknowledgement that things will never go back to the way they were, that my time, my face, my space, my grace, my retreat, my treat, the little things, the smile, the while, the girl, the child, the tickle, the smirk, the escape, the wait, the build, the fun is all gone and I may never get it back. 

It's the mental drain that exhausts me.

Theft of purpose

Someone stole
my time,
my face,
my space,
my grace,
my retreat,
my treat,
all the little things,
the smile,
the while,
the girl,
the child,
the tickle,
the smirk,
the escape,
the wait,
the build,
the fun.

All that is gone.

Of men and gentlemen...

I just wonder, do you ever think of me anymore...Ne-yo

It's so surprising how some people all of a sudden turn into your enemy. One minute you have a budding relationship, possibly even sex, great sex even and the next thing, there's this rivalry, enemity, so much so they don't even respond to your email, or text message, or wonder if you're still alive.

I only say this because I had a dream about Victor last night. I dreamt we were platonic sharing the same loft and he was painstakingly rearranging the place for our co-dwelling. He moved stuff around to make sure I got my space and he got his and it took a while. He kept asking me where he needed to put stuff, etc. This is not modern day Victor either, this is Victor, circa the dreads, which I completely missed, so I am wondering why that particular Victor era came to mind. We talked about life in Lagos and what the social life is like, he had on a suit 'cos he had a dinner event to go to in a couple of hours. Even with the dreads on a suit, he looked dashing! We just talked which we wouldn't normally do in real life.

It was a dream that made no sense except to call to mind a few things, one is the fact that I have sent Victor a couple of emails, very platonic emails and he's failed to respond, not even a peep; and two, is the fact that men can be just as petty, childish and grudge-bearing as women, sometimes even worse. If this were a woman she would cave in right about the second email, but men, never and they just leave you wondering when did the fight happen, and what was it about?

Sore blues

Today's moment of weakness came after two glasses of wine and at approximately 5.34pm; call it a minor case of drunk texting. And almost 3 hours later, we are fine. But we can't promise there won't be another moment of weakness. What can I say, I like to win and I like to hunt until I get my game, sometimes I win, sometimes I loose, but until I get it, I have a hard time stopping.

In other news, weekend was great. Today is actually my 9th year at the Bar. So sometime today, between the hours of 4 and 5pm I was actually proud of myself because my name was called and I was officially anointed a barrister and solicitor. It's kind of alien knowing how ditzy I am in real life. But that is me, the other side, one of my biggest accomplishments and one of my proudest moments. There have been others but this one took a good chunk of my life to get there. Whatever I am and whatever I become, I would always know that I've achieved that and no one can take it away from me.

What better way to celebrate this momentous, albeit private occasion in my life, than a trip to the theater to see the enchanting Les Miserables and then, dinner with lots of champagne and red wine (that stirred the moment of weakness) at Baraonda. Delightful food, wonderful service, the ambiance was just magnifique and dinner was superb -ruined only by the moment of weakness. But it's okay, they say in loving someone else that you get to see God's face - or something like that, so was the closing line of Les Miserables. The play was quite intriguing, perfect cap to a beautiful day.

There is more but this is all I'll say for now. Happy 9th year to me. Fuck yeah!

Sistas would disown me

Today I lost about 20% of my self worth. If I was worth 80%, if at all, today it dramatically went down to 60. 

I cannot begin to describe it but there I was today sending "attorney" guy the crazy email I talked about. Couple of text messages and no response. Uncanny, right? Did he read my blog perchance? Then I sent the email below, took a cue from my friend David and thought I'd send something heartfelt and profound...instead my self worth just turned into mush, crumbled like the Dow. 

I guess what's so bone crushing disappointing about it for me is that I want to exude the type of self confidence and self worth that would make a man want to take you winetasting in Provence, or spend a simple afternoon at the theater, not want to bang you in the back seat of his vehicle (even though that might be fun) I want to be self worthy not self deprecating. 

But life imagined, dreamt and hoped is a lot different from life lived. And the reality of my life is what makes me such a cynical, glass empty, negative and bitter young lady. 

Hello, 

I know you don't want to hear from me and I really shouldn't be writing you. Actually, I can feel my self-esteem go down several notches as I write this. You probably "hate" me by now which is fine. I should "hate" you too but I don't. Hmmmm....

For what it's worth, I miss you. You started off being this nice guy and I sort of misconstrued your niceness for good intentions. And somehow niceness and constant infidelity just do not mix with me in my world because you get to like the person's mind and not their body, which I am assuming was not your intention. It's not like I haven't done the bang up job before, my story about Victor will let you know that I have dabbled in it, even after him I have, occasionally, more recently with the one guy I was in love with. But when you leave a trail of bang ups and nothing substantial you start to wonder that maybe you should hold out for something different. 

I know neither of us will end up with each other. I may not be in this country a year from now but I just thought that for the time in which I would know you that it would be between us, be it one month, two months, etc. It would just be us and not us and several other chicks on the side. 

I am sorry if I hurt your feelings when I constantly mentioned your joblessness and your nipples. It was not right. However, you hurt mine, immensely. I think you should have been honest and open about everything right from the start, as open as the open relationship you were proposing. It makes things a little easier to swallow when you are faced with it from the get-go rather than a few steps down the road. Don't pretend to be my friend when all you want is sex. I thought that was immensely cruel and in my many years of dating I must say that has never happened to me. 

That's all I have to say for now. 

Anita

to the woman

To the woman who has everything, more is given...and to the woman who has not...what gives?

Today, I had a weak moment and considered, thought out and plotted the insane text I would send to "attorney" guy. It would have said something like, "So, this sex thing you've been talking about, what time today?" And I would have gone in being the bold phenomenal woman I am *psych*, had sex and walked outta there, and said something like, "So, same time next Sunday, or what kind of schedule do you want us to be on? But I didn't. But it pained me in every way that I couldn't. When actually I think it should pain me more that I even considered it. Why did I even consider it, apart from the need to scratch an itch? Why consider satisfying that asshole and making him win at his game? WTF Anita...

Living with my mum is driving me batty so I need to have that place where I release, create and indulge in adult things. So far, there's no new prospect, I take that back there are quite a couple, but I am not really interested in them, and since I am not it just puts me in this awkward situation. Awkward itchy situation. 

So I talked it over with a couple of my girlfriends and they had differing opinions. I am not big on talking over my personal issues with my girlfriends, I would much rather go with my gut and know that my gut led me to it. I might talk it over with them and say, "Yes, you are right I won't do that", but if my gut and my heart leads me differently, that's exactly where I'll be, barring all advice I've received. Because in the end it's your life, it's your mistakes and it's your instinct, so go with it. Fuck what they think? Even though they may be right and sometimes your instinct may agree with them, but whatever it is, go with that instinct, by all means talk it over but do what your heart tells you. 

In summary, I didn't call. And I am hoping I never do. Not having sex with him is my one saving grace, my one "power" against him and if I loose it, (I already lost some of it by letting him get to 3rd base) I loose it all and I'll be helpless against him, with nothing else but unrequited emotions. Men don't care about how many people they score but women do. At least some women. There used to be a time when this wouldn't matter, I was that strong phenomenal woman I talked about, but this is not that time. For some strange unknown reason I lost that power and became something else. A hapless idiot! 

I am digressing...

In summary, there are two sides to this Anita coin. There is the Phenomenal Anita who would send the raunchy text and do those deeds and not give a shit, knowing that this would not lead to anything and knowing that I don't want it to except a hopeless satisfaction of an itch. I am not sure I am there yet. Then, there's the other Anita...who wants to sit here and hope and pray that she is given the strength and fortitude not to send that text. And if she does, she would lose her power, her self-respect and her dignity and be ranked with the rest of the "floozies". I am not there either. On good days I am but today was not that day. 

I am sitting on the fence leaning towards either side.

Lessons Learned

There's no such thing as rejection, only learning / growth opportunities for the next time.

That being said, what have I learned in the last couple of weeks?

I have learned:

• Not to misconstrue niceness for likeness
• To take things as they go and not jump two steps ahead
• To control my emotions and don't let it jump two steps ahead of me
• To learn not to put people down no matter their situation
• To not pretend that feelings don't exist when actually they do
• To let someone feel appreciated
• That gentlemen exist because they want to not because you make them
• To be a lady no matter who's on the receiving end
• To avoid giving out my number to people I meet on the street!
• Most importantly, to never say "NEVER" because it comes back to bite you in the ass!
  

Mother dwelling

For the past month, my mum has been living with me.

I have indirectly made reference to this in some of my entries, however the actual move happened during the "attorney" guy episode.

Mum's are great, great friends, great companions. But I am not sure that this is such a great thing to happen to me right now because this is an exceptionally emotional period for me (when isn't?). I just have some intense thinking to do & some socializing to do to build on my singledom. With my mum around it is not easy and she is very much a home hermit mom, sits at home depressed (you can see where I get it from) and just wallows or what I like to call gets in your face/space. With each call she asks, who was that, with each outing, she asks so where are you headed? No matter how I try to cheer myself up, go out, have a good time, get my mind off things, I get home and she is sitting at home in utter despair, in the dark, face turned up and she starts recounting (as if I needed reminding) all the issues going on in my life and beyond. She takes away the solace I used to get from my home. It used to be my impermeable shelter from the outside world. Now, it's like that hole that serves as a constant reminder of my pain. This would not be an issue if things had gone swimmingly last week, or with anyone, if I had someone else's home I could go to for refuge, for peace of mind, I don't and the options don't seem to be presenting themselves right now. Not at all.

Sucks to be me right now. No social life, lives with mum in her god-awful thirties, spends weekends being the "bar girl." Yep, awful stats.

Oh men, I thought this was going to be a good week...

purposeful asshole post

I keep wondering, which I shouldn't, of what might have been. Of what will never happen.

Let's do that just for pity sake. I love to daydream...

Would have probably lied to my mother about where I was going to spend the night. Probably mumbled something about a party or my girlfriend needing me, something or the other. And she would have said yes, reluctantly, but still yes, remembering just how old I am. 

Would have had dinner, lots of wine and then amazing sex, stopped for a brief food interlude, and then continued with the mind-blowing sex, drank some more, fucked some more. Would have gone to bed exhausted after speaking in tongues all night. Woken up and had him drive me to my CLE course a few miles from his house still beaming in the afterglow. Gone to said course, smirking to myself all through Contract Negotiation, not paying attention, just filled with the glow that is good sex and good times. It would have been good.

Yes, it would have played out like my girl Jill Scott said in Exclusively...

...Mmm, this morning my man exclusively introduced me

To some good extra lovin'

He was lickin' and suckin' on everything

Just the way he should

This morning's extra lovin' was good

We laid there sweaty, sex funky, happy as we want to be

Lovin' exclusively, my man and me

All night all morning...

Ironically, I think the key word is..."exclusively."

I don't know why "casual" is the new black. Like brothas researched the matter and thought, "I am going to treat this fine sista like a sample sale, like I'm in a motherfucking wine tasting, where I get to sip the wine, squish around my mouth and then spit it out in a cup, and then go on and try another one."

Just go on, being the purposeful asshole that they are.

Silent expression of angst

So in almost relating to Britney Spears and her once thought irrational shear cut moment, I went and got my haircut like Agyness Deyn, very short, very radical, very androgynous, leaning towards Rihanna (in 10 years).

I went from this:



To this:




Not sure, if it's a better look, but I suddenly don't feel so angry anymore.

A little less anger

It was not a ho-hum weekend. Actually, it was really rather eventful. Friday and Sunday most especially.

Friday night. My girlfriend's birthday dinner at Straits. Spent way too much money. Ate way too much good food. Had interesting conversation about "Bar Girls" with gentleman seated at the bar. Enjoyed myself immensely. Took pictures with Ludacris, Chris Bridges the owner, he looked rather tasty I felt like hugging him. Acted silly and playful, scored a CD from the DJ, called it a successful evening. 

Saturday was a bust. A real bust. I won't even go into details. But suffice it to say, it was a bust. 

Sunday. DJ from Friday night called and we spent the day together, talking about music, life, men and sex. In that order. Had way too much to drink, followed him to hotel room, slightly tipsy, let him go to 3rd base. May never see him again. Feeling slightly ashamed of my erratic behaviour so I am glad I may never see him again. 

I just needed to get my mind off things, being, the debacle from last week. It was a good distraction. Waking up this morning was torture, still hungover, needed an extra strong espresso to alert me to the fact that it's Monday. 

Wondering why I am extra horny these days. Must be the weather.

This is one of the pictures from my friend's birthday on Friday, the 12th at Straits. That's me in the yellow dress, trying hard not to hug Ludacris.

Sunday Morning

I think they lied to us.
They said life would start to be fun in your thirties. Nope. It gets worse. You become that "older woman" at the bar that everyone thinks is desperate for some dick. And the men who don't want to invest the time just spend it wasting your time. You inevitably become that "bar girl" who as defined, sits at the bar nursing one drink, a couple of appetizers and spends the entire evening perusing the scene for prospects. A sad truth that you hate to be faced with.
I think they lied and thought we wouldn't catch them on their lies. And before you know it the sad thirties are over.

Lord, I pray this is a good week. I pray I don't get as pissed off this week as I did last week. Amen.

still angry

As you can see from the post below, I am still angry.

I thought I'd wake up today and not feel any anger, or maybe just a little bit, but I still am. I kept asking myself yesterday, why am I angry? Just so I can diagnose and hopefully get rid of it. Do I really like him, or is it just about winning? I cannot answer that question. I am just angry because it is a similar feeling, I've been here before and no matter how hard I tried to avoid getting here again ever, I still get here. That's why I am angry.

And, I cannot get over the smug look on his face as he tried to avoid answering a simple question as, when is your birthday? And when he did, he was like, don't worry about it? We've made plans for the 17th. The smug sheepish grin on his fucking face, like you've been had and forget about it, I made more concrete plans with someone I care about. That look! I cannot erase that fucking smirk from my mind...every time I shut my eyes or I am quiet, I remember it. It was so fucking annoying makes you want to throw something. Just smash his head in or something, but then you have to sit there and be a lady through it all. And you just keep gasping, This is fucked...this is totally fucked up!

So with all that said and out of my system, I still ask myself, Do I really like him, or is it just about winning?

I think it was more about honesty. Honesty upfront. If you want sex, you tell me up front, don't pretend to be my fucking friend, you let me know what you want up front. No bullshit! Just honesty right from the start, and...winning would have been nice too...

I am so angry I could throw something

I just thought that...

I just thought that
I would wake up today
and I would feel better, you know?
But I was still mad.
And I realized...
I realized that it had nothing
to do with .....
I wake up like this
every morning!
I am angry all the time,
and I don't know why.

....from the movie, Crash

male shit keeps happening

Had a very interesting chat with my "attorney" friend at lunch. It gets worse. Hopefully by next week I will no longer trouble the world with my male drama nonsense.

I don't have much time to wallow on this at work but I'll say this simply.

1) His birthday is next week, and apparently, him and his ex have some big to-do planned for his birthday. So much so he didn't even want me to know when his actual birthday was because they had planned it out. That was fucked. "Are you back together with her? I asked. "No," he responded. "But we have something planned," he says with a slight smirk. "That is fucked." I say, emphatically. "Don't bullshit me. I feel so fucked right now." I was close to tears at this point.

I realized somewhere along the line I got my 34 year old wires crossed. I thought he liked me, when he just wanted to add me to his harem. Forgive me, world. I have been playing in this game for awhile, I should be able to detect male bullshit a mile away. But sometimes when you let your guard down, it just bites you in the ass. Like now.

2) He emphasized on the casual relationship, yet again. Which means, have sex with me and all the others, feel free to come and go (in my vagina, I assume as well as others) as you wish. Something about that is so wrong. I don't care how new age I claim to be. I am old-fashioned and something about this, about me deserves to be treated with respect. I just felt like maybe he didn't like me as much as I assumed, why would you want to share me, why? Why would I want to share you? I thought any guy would be flattered by that. Apparently, not.

Needless to say, I don't think I'll hear from him again. And somebody bang me upside my head if I ever talk about this again or speak of him fondly.

And so it is, more male drama. 4 months ago, it was broke guy, then CNN guy, now, "attorney" guy. My relationships are just total clusterfucks. A clusterfuck of drama.

I am so mad right now I could break something.

definition of a ho-hum weekend

What defines a *ho-hum weekend?

*One that I don't get to meet interesting people
One where there is no new number added to my iPhone
One where I have little or no time to exercise
One where I overindulge, food and alcohol-wise
One where I don't challenge myself intellectually and artistically
One that leaves me broker than when I went into it

Ditto on all points above. Needless to say that I didn't get to work out, not once. I didn't even get to ride my bike. I was only able to get about 30 minutes to myself. I had to take my mum to the mall yet again (which we are constantly becoming regulars) and I was emotionally drained trying to figure out where the feelings for "attorney" guy came from and how to get rid of them, quick.

But I did see Tropic Thunder in an effort to bring some much needed jolt to my system. It was hilarious. I usually don't like Ben Stiller comedies. They always seem too foolish for my intellect and deal with ridiculous subject matters. Ben Stiller and Will Ferrell always thrive on the stupidity of their content. But this was a much more intelligent Ben Stiller comedy, not Ben Stiller of the Zoolander era.

I also got to try The Clubhouse, for the first time in about 5 years. Went there last sometime in 2003 for a co-worker's birthday. The restaurant hasn't changed in quality and style of presentation. I was very impressed. It will be my mall stop anytime I am hungry from browsing the mall and need a good food break.

This Love Thing

Lord, please tell me what I need to do, what I should not do, and what I am doing wrong. I can't seem to figure this love thing out no matter how hard I try.

Problem with the Exes

Had a very interesting evening with "attorney" guy yesterday.

For some strange reason for the first time since we've been "talking" to each other, I actually found him attractive. Maybe it was the tight t-shirt or his bulging biceps, or the enthusiasm with which he greeted me. Whatever it was, it was not good, because needless to say, I went to 3rd base with him.(That is the base before the actual activity, right?) Someone was a bad girl!

But before then, I felt like I should lay down some ground rules on the forthcoming copulation. I had to essentially ask that in the event that we do copulate, I do not want him to copulate with anyone else in between. The fact that I had to say that, ask that you'd be faithful in our assumed "casual" relationship, is not a good sign. It is not a "good look" at all. He felt that if he was attracted to someone else while he was with me, it would require him to ask for permission from me to pursue that, to step out on me. Yes. That is True. For human decency sake, you cannot step out, it's not control, it's just me being old-fashioned and decent. Those were the odds, you either accept or get the hell out.

Then, we went to another topic. As of 2 and half weeks ago, he's been with his ex-girlfriend. I've known him for a month. What is with men and going back to their exes? First he went to the movies with someone about 3 weeks ago and then, he "copulated" with his ex. According to him, she prefers to shag him, go back to the past (shit, as I term it) instead of step into the future. There's a reason an ex is an ex, it's a pity this girl and "attorney" guy don't seem to realize this.

I thought long and hard about this last night, with a rational, less horny mind. I need to step out of this. I've had a bad history with guys and their exes, it's always something about you not being able to compete with the astounding chemistry they have with their exes and then they kick you to the curb, heartbroken.

I am going to try to take myself out of this equation. I know I may say this and bah! the next thing I find him remotely attractive, there was a time I couldn't fathom the thought of kissing him, now see me. But I will try, and if I fail I am only human, right!

To the 44th year

Hello Stranger,

I would have thought it'd be over by now, that I would quietly let this day go by and not remember it as the 44th year. But I've thought about nothing else all day. I've thought about it being the 44th time, the 44th moment that I've let you into a peak of my life and my craziness and how you've constantly remained the calm to my madness. I've thought about what that calm would be like up close. People ask me, why him? And with everything about it that I can't quite describe, I simply say, because he is the cool water that lets my anger cool. Even though I am yet to meet him, I know there is a calm in there that my searching self needs. So to the 44th year, another year where we don't get to meet and I get to live this chaotic life constantly searching for your replacement, to this day all I can simply say, is Happy Birthday, Keanu. So much I wish we were but for now, you'd just simply remain my constant obsession.

Anita.

She moved forward towards him, kneeling to face him, her hand caressed the lines on his face, tracing out his beard stubble with the tips of her fingers, getting to his mouth, she stopped and wondered if this would be a good time to push that mouth closer to hers, for a soft kiss, to kiss away the troubles from those eyes. She stopped at the scar on his upper lips, gently rubbing it to get a reaction from him. And then, she moved her face closer to his, their cheeks a breath apart, and with a gentle inhale, she smelled the softness of his cheek, his breath slowly enveloping hers.

For colored girls who have always wondered what if...

Went to see the wonderful play, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf at the 14th street playhouse on Sunday afternoon directed by the lovely Jasmine Guy. Yes, I spent an afternoon at the Theater as Ms. Guy termed it, in her Southern drawl as she directed us to kindly turn off our cellphones.

I enjoyed the play immensely. Apparently, this play was written by a feminist lady in the feminist time of the 70's. I had no idea that it's been around for that long. An ex co-worker directed me to it and now, I am glad she did. At first I didn't know what to make of the stories told in short poems, the Southern accent seemed to loose me now and then, but once I got into it, I knew this was for me. I felt like I was being revolutionize, like I was part of some new age female movement to empower women with dignity and self-respect. It felt good. The play is basically about 7 strong black women dealing with life's trials. I didn't necessarily relate it to being black because I feel the pain of loss, heartbreak, rape, physical and mental abuse etc are dealt by all women. I've always been black and I have always dealt with these problems so I don't necessarily feel these problems are personal to me because of my color. They are universal female struggles.

I wish I remembered every bit of the play. I just remember bits and pieces of it here and there, certain lines here and there just sort of stayed with me. There was this particular poem that said, "Someone stole something from me, and I let them steal it, I was right there when it happened." People don't hurt you or break your heat unless you let them, and you are right there when it happens.

That is so true.

I feel like buying a copy of that for every woman I've ever known, black or white.