The Post Game Show

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I'm scared to try, 'cause I'm scared I'll fail....

Oh, Jazmine...thank you for this entry title.

So, my long-awaited return to Delaware State University clearly didn't go as planned. Armed with a digital camera and a nervous but hopeful disposition, I didn't see any of the friends I made at DSU my few precious hours on campus, and the full-body pics I took of myself on my new personal camera served as a rude awakening that I still have a ways to go in the quest of being in shape and healthy. So I've been down in the dumps since I returned to the DMV Saturday night, and during a conversation with Veronica M., she asked me a question that has been asked before and probably is a thought shared by anyone who reads these kinds of entries of mine...

"Do you LIKE being melancholy?" Anyone else would've gotten the riot act, but since it's V, a true friend whose opinion I value and respect, I was able to be calm and say no without an argument. I can think of a lot better scenarios to thrive in than being lonely, so no, I really do not get off on being sad.

The truth of the matter is I'm afraid of damn near everything. Afraid of being cast in a negative light because of the extra weight I carry physically, as well as emotionally. Afraid of conversation with a woman that didn't start through typing. Afraid of even showing my face in public (considering my job is 99.9 percent of that, it's a wonder I'm able to make it through daily life without at least one anxiety or panic attack). Afraid that I'll never be good enough for any woman to want to be seen with me, let alone hug/kiss/have sex with.

We're always hardest on ourselves, but I seriously feel like my honesty about myself is taken the wrong way. When I say something about myself, it's not a cry for help or reassurance - it's a just a real observation. I see the kind of guys women go bananas for, and quite frankly, I'm NOTHING like those guys.

I'm short (o.k., 5'10 isn't terribly short, but short of the 6-foot requirement), dark (yeah, dark-skinned men are in, but "black" seems to be a favorite for women who do insult me) and here's the biggie (no pun intended) - I am a heavy/big/plus-sized/whatever man. Never have I been under the impression that I wasn't overweight or out of shape, I just didn't expect to be shunned so viciously by the fairer sex because of it. And being the sensitive overthinker that I am, I tie all of the above, along with my bass-less, proper-dictioned speaking voice and not-hood ways, into me being ugly and unattractive.

And that's the genesis of my fear. God gave people vision for reasons aside from the simple fact of being able to walk around without bumping heads all the time - people like to look at people and things they deem attractive. Pleasure center, anyone? Considering the way I've been treated based on how other people saw me, I haven't had a choice but to be honest about myself. No I'm not anybody's model/athlete/actor/musician, but aesthetics aside, I still am a human being. I am a good person armed with intelligence, a sense of humor and an ability to listen and care. Except that last sentence never really registers with me, no matter how much I may say it or type it.

I've never explored V's opinion that I convince myself that I suck out of fear of trying, but I guess she can't be far off. As sure as I'm sitting here, tears stinging the shit out of my eyes, typing this with a vengeance, I've been hiding from the world because I just don't know if I can really fit in anywhere. Who has room in their heart for a weird chubby black man who's idea of a good time is listening to classic R&B or just reading? Who really wants to be bothered with a guy who doesn't fit the physical description of matinee idol, but deep inside has a desire and a passion for romance and making a woman feel like she is the best thing walking?

Even though I have these fears preventing me from even trying my luck out here in the world, the frustrating thing is that the self-deprecation and self-imposed exile from the outside world goes on in spite of my biggest fear - the fear of being alone my whole life.

I'm 27 now, officially late 20s. How many dates have I been on? Officially? Zero. If that's not misery, I don't know what is. Aside from my penchant for hooking up with women via the computer two to three times a year, my interaction with ladies is non-existent, and I can only go off my personal opinion or what I see with my eyes and perceive to be how women roll. Do I really know? Of course not. But why try to find out if they're different if the current mode of thinking seems to hold to form? That's the thing - I don't know if it does anymore.

I can honestly say my fears and nerves of women just pointing and laughing at me in stores have gone unfounded for at least a couple of years now. Women aren't falling over me like the prettyboys and thugs who I can never measure up to, but they aren't exactly just kicking the hell out of me either. Instead of thinking of it as a positive, I figure it's a fluke, a mere bump in the road on my way to being the most undesirable straight guy in the known galaxy.

But I don't want to be that guy, ever. I want to be liked by women as more than a friend, I want to be liked for who I am instead of being disqualified because of what I'm not. I want to feel like I'm deserving of affection and adoration from real women, I don't want to be lonely anymore.

But I'm afraid of even stepping outside of this apartment to figure out where I can find women who are open-minded and mature.

"A man can free his soul inside of prison, but a man can feel imprisoned inside of his own soul," Frankie Gaye once said about his brother Marvin. And while I am not comparing myself to Marvin Gaye by any stretch of the imagination, I can identify with that quote so much.

And that's what scares me the most.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Mid-October Randomness

- Homecoming is Saturday.  I'm nervous as hell, too, six plus years at Delaware State University weren't always the greatest (never really liked any of my roommates, never dated any girls at the school, didn't go to a single party), but I am grateful that I got a chance to pursue my professional dreams thanks in large part to DSU.  Hopefully I'll have a good enough time Saturday so I won't feel like never going back again.

- I bought a digital camera today.  Welcome me to the 21st century, y'all, LOL....yeah, I have to give love to all my friends in our chosen profession, because they gave me a 100-dollar gift certificate from Target earlier this year, and I never got to use it until I saw this nice lil Samsung joint, put the card on the camera, and now I'm going to be taking pictures like a madman.  Look forward to some DSU homecoming shots early next week (because Sunday, I am going to SLEEP!).

- My two mile walk is working out well.  At first, it took me an average of an hour and 40 minutes to complete eight laps around a 1/4 mile parking lot, which equals two miles.  As of this morning, I'm down to 1:28.  Progress is indeed a beautiful thing.

- Eight months, 1 week, six hours and 14 minutes since I last *ahem*....God help me.  Droughts are no fun.

- I'm looking forward to Christmas this year because I AM going to decorate my apartment this time around, with the tree and all.  I've decided to try to do it all on December 11th, which is my grandma's birthday.  She would be 87 on that day, and since I was telling a co-worker how close I was to my grandma and how her birthday is two weeks before Christmas, she said "maybe you should do your house on her birthday."  And it shall be done.

- I shouldn't be thinking like this...but damn, is Michelle Obama a 10 or what?  When Barack hugged her last night, his left hand was on "the sweet spot."  And I think I speak for all backside lovers in attendance today when I say there is nothing better than a woman with a "sweet spot."  Y'all peep the video on'll see it.

- And finally...the Phillies are in the World Series!  WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  Man, I lost my mind and my voice last night checking out the game on line.  The last time the Phillies were in the World Series, I was in 7th grade.  15 years ago. God, I'm getting old.  Let's hope my boys win it this time, for Philly's sake.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Sticks and Stones

The words were spoken just as plain as a person that age could speak them. Said directly to me with very little regard for how I may have responded, the toddler in the Wal-Mart shopping cart, said "Hello, strange dark person."

In my mind you could've heard a pin drop in San Luis Obispo, California. I didn't know whether to be shocked, offended or pissed off. Instead, I couldn't conjure up those feelings if I tried. I chuckled slightly and looked at her embarrassed redneck father and slightly shook my head.

This incident two Sundays ago let me know that I do indeed live in one of the few places that can pass for the Confederacy Version 2.0 and also that my choices of what to fight for and be pissed off by are, well...interesting to say the least. I really can't blame the little girl because NO ONE is born a racist, although I think a few folks come close. I don't even think that little girl will become a racist adult woman, but clearly she's heard some unsavory things about people of color from folks in her family, and she just happened to repeat it while I was savoring the taste of a bag of Resse's Pieces. I think I didn't react outwardly and wasn't upset because I knew that the little girl wasn't to be admonished (wasn't my place) and that in a matter of weeks, a strange dark person will be running this country, so I just laughed it off and said "kids."

Yet, a few weeks prior to this incident, I was blown away by something a woman said to me that really was a low blow. Mind you, I knew of this chick through high school, college, the whole bit. This broad weighed more than me until recently when she lost quite a bit of weight, and now she thinks she's hot stuff. We talked for an extended period of time, and even agreed that we could hook up (yes, exactly what it means) when I got to DE for Thanksgiving last year. When I reminded her of it, she said it was that time of the month AND she was going out of town. I'm a person that believes all the extra isn't necessary. If she had said one or the other, I would've been more inclined to believe her. But both? Don't have time for games. So I distanced myself from her.

Fast forward to late August, this chick hits me on facebook, and I'm like "what?" So she tells me not to be mad at her, be mad at the women who dogged me out. And said "uh, hello? You fall in line with them, too." After she said she didn't have to take it from me and I said be gone, she said, and I quote...

"Why would you, a fat ugly crybaby, think that you are anywhere on my level? I'm 28 years old, probably make twice as much money as you're better off being a homosexual because no woman in her right mind would want you. I'm glad I'm not a loser like you."


Mouth wide open, you could've driven an 18-wheeler through it.


Women wishing I'd go gay now? How far have I fallen? To my credit, I did not shed a tear, I didn't respond back, I was just stunned, much like when the little girl said what came to her mind, but this comment left me offended, frustrated, and pretty much down and out for a couple of weeks.

I got over it eventually, but it's interesting that I can take somebody's kid calling me a strange dark person in stride, but I take a serious hit when a woman says I should start booty banging with guys. I'm comfortable in my sexuality and the fact that I am heterosexual, but I guess the insult just struck a chord with me, mainly because I'm so afraid people look at my lack of relationships with women and think "well, IS he gay? DOES he like women?" Rest assured I do, but they just don't like me. Hence me being single and alone all the time.

I love being a black man, but I don't love being alone, that's what's there on the surface. But looking deeper, it makes me wonder where my priorities are if I'm more offended by some comment that doesn't even really have any truth to it than the one that really should've been the shocking one.

Maybe I'm just overreacting to it all. Besides, I know who I am and I'm getting comfortable with it as the days wear on.

And apparently I can tune out hurtful jabs better than I've been aware of.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

A New Addition To The Blog Family and more....

Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday on my 27th, I really do appreciate it. The older I get, the more I realize it's important to acknowledge and be grateful for the few that genuinely care about you and your well-being instead of worrying about those that don't. You guys really do care and it warms my ice box up some to know that I'm not completely alone in this world. Since this post has no particular topic and you all know how I love to be random, here we go with some of Chris' random musings:

We've got a new addition to the Chris blog tree. I haven't done anything at my HBCU Sports Blog in forever, so I don't know what's going to happen with THAT, but five bucks says I'll end up doing more with this new one. Say hello to The Soundtrack of my life! Yes, the series first made famous on this blog now has its own space, and not only will I be reviewing my favorite albums and songs along (old stuff of course and the new as I get it), I'll still be talking about the major impact music has had on my life so far. So bookmark it and visit it as much as you can folks!

My legs don't like me very much. The parking lot of the park I walk in is a quarter mile around, so eight laps = two miles. Doesn't seem like much, but it's more sustained and time consuming than just shooting hoops, and while my legs are cussing me up a storm, they're also toning up, even my pesky thighs are starting to shrink slightly, so needless to say I'm happy.

And now, a brief moment of ignorance; Chris' remix of "Good Good"

*Sings* when my girl leaves the house I know she's coming right back/I got that good wood/got that good wood/even though she try to act, she know just where it's at/I got that good wood/got that good wood/Put it on her right/I do it every night/leave her sittin mouth open like "OH!"/So I don't worry 'bout nobody takin mine/I got just the right stroke to show/I got that good wood....

I bought a waffle maker this morning. *Lil' Jon voice* YEAH! WHAT?! OKAY! Ahhh, and CM gave me a jar of peach preserve (lawd, the double entendre within) and after making a couple of waffles and throwing some of the preserve on it, I was in heaven this morning. More stuff like this allows me to have what I want and at my pace instead of running to the store and buying the frozen food aisle out. Just some pancake mix, some peach preserve, and I'm good to go. Shizzle.

I can't wait for Agent Ness' debate post. I know I'm gonna end up hollerin' like a hit dog because when that girl gets on a roll, she gets on a roll, folks.

In sports news, my Philadelphia Phillies lead their National League Division Series 2-0 over the Milwaukee Brewers. Hopefully Jamie Moyer puts the cappy-cap on this series tonight and they go on to play the Dodgers in the NLCS. College football wise, I refuse to comment about DSU-Hampton because I don't feel good about today's game and if the Pirates win, Jameil will probably post about it anyway, lol

The bailout plan? Sucks. We're going to have to be the ones to pay for this crap the banks and corporations have gotten themselves into, and why did the head of the recently deceased Washington Mutual bank get a 19 MILLION DOLLAR severance agreement?! Talk about an allowance, Good God. If my job goes under, I might be lucky to get 19 HUNDRED dollars, but you can mismanage an entire bank and walk away with an NBA salary. I'm definitely in the wrong business.

Lastly, I'm crushing on softball players. Duck is usually the one I can talk to about crushes, seeing as she has a couple of her own, but there is this all-black women's softball team down here, and if their centerfielder asked me today to paint her toenails, I'd give serious thought to it. She's THAT fine. Girl-crazy is a helluva drug.