On Love: Do you really sleep with white women? do you feel bad about it?

So my mom dated Ving Rhames. Legend has it, he cooked her dinner in his home-but she didn't like him...But she never likes anyone cool.

She messed it up for my brother and I;  our dad could've been a movie star, an underrated movie star who once dressed as a woman, but a movie star none the less...Anyhow: My first experience with Ving was a little less personal:

 I saw him in the film Holiday Heart; (the snippet is one of my favorite scene) It made me think, about love and the Holidays: What does it mean to love? Granted when you are into someone, you recognize the flaws in their humanity, but you can look past it, generally , everything becomes negligible.  However, we cant always count on the people in our family, friend circle and other "informed outsiders"to be so diplomatic. This can often add all sorts of:

to your recipe for "grand love, especially now  that we are in the throes of the holiday season.

Bitter Medicine of Adulthood: choosing and choices

Some choices we makes for ourselves in life , and some we make for other people; not because we don't love them, but because we do.The only way we know its right, is if it lats us stay true to ourselves...but, we cant regret our choices:


well, at least, that's what they say, in clever TV shows that only last twenty minutes and revolve around the impossible; prostitutes with swollen bank accounts and many private lovers who want to take them off the auction block despite how they have been used...London must be so liberal. I loved that show. Also, this guy certainly echos this sentiment as well; he certainly made a choice and is without regret. Though I suppose, if you are going to kill someone , you shouldn't regret it-but his reasoning is just humorous in  the most macabre way...Anyway!

finding a new place

Since being "moved" from my old place, I am searching for a new place-alone.

When I say that I am not looking with a roomate, people look at me like:









Apparently, being alone is a luxury...which has forced me
to ponder what being alone in an apartment will mean:

-probably not shopping at whole foods-ever again.
-No extracurricular activities that don't involve work.
-No new friends or old ones.

and so on and so forth...







Which is probably why almost everyone I know has roommates .

See you at the Crossroads: (yes, no, maybe?)

My sister's brother died a few days ago.He was twenty.

His funeral is today at 11am. I was trying to figure out what happened, mainly because, when you are relatively young and someone younger than you dies-even if the connection is arbitrary, it's worrisome. I wanted to know how he died, but I wouldn't dare ask-because that would be insensitive.
 
SO , instead of asking, I googled:
And what I found...:

Resolved: Thought(s) On funerals

Funerals are hard for me, and that is part of the reason "I don't really do" them , because they are so hard, long and fake..oh, and early...

Idealy, a funeral is the one place where you should "get it how you live", but propriety stifles people from telling it like it is strangely enough, in the last place they probably will be able too.

"But they Family..." Oh?

They say experience forms an individual’s operative definitions for their day to day functioning. Based off of the personal, business and vicarious experiences of close friends-and friends, who feel they are close enough to tell me all of their business, though all of my body language says “This is inappropriate, I don’t know you like that-Please stop!”

My definition of family is as follows:

Family (N): A group loosely connected, usually by blood, that doesn’t know how to act if and when they come together because society is confuddled by and ever changing concept of family and morality.

When I am confronted with the threat of Family (Yes it’s a threat), I think fights, drama and baggage from a past that, I haven’t gotten over but, I have pretended like I have forgotten. I am not above admitting that I have had all types of  awful issues in my family ranging from, but not limited too; drug abuse, physical abuse, elder abuse and financial abuse. Calling to mind something my aunt used to tell me, “you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.” She ended it with a period, but I would have ended it with a question mark, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family?” Why can’t we choose our families?

Just Move? wha?

Personally, I was for too long seduced by an impossible ideal of living in a huge Harlem apartment , alone, with  "outrageously low" rent until I expired from happiness ...

However I "learnt tahday!" that just wasn't my lot in life...


So, here are some things I learned (in anticipation of the moving process)