And I will write 200 posts and I would write 200 more...

Y'all remember that song back in the day "500 Miles" by those Scottish twin brothers, the Proclaimers? Man, that was a song that cracked me up for no good reason back in junior high. Anyway, as the subject suggests, this is the 200th post since I started this blog in January of '05. That means I only post like once a week and four times a month, which is nowhere near as many as I'd like to have under my belt, but I'm just going to have to make a conscious effort to post more as time goes on. In the meantime, I'll use this post to update you all on what's going with me since my last self-reflective post a month ago.

I'm shrinking and leaping. I've finally been able to pull my black polo shirt out of the closet and wear it comfortable, which lets me know that I'm starting to make significant process above the legs, which has been my point of emphasis as of late. My legs are starting to tone up something serious with all the walking I've been doing the last two months. As far as the leaping, I was at one of the local high schools for work, and as I was leaving the gym, I looked at the basket and figured "let's see if we can get up any." I got a decent running start, a basic basketball jog and stuck my hand up and slapped the glass backboard without much effort. If I can drop the number of pounds I want to by the summer, somebody's getting dunked on. Look out, playground ballers, lol...

I think about the hook-ups I've had in the last two weeks time and I feel myself slipping away from the "sex is all I need right now" mentality. It was nice, but I definitely don't want to fall into the role of user, even though 9 times out of 10, there was a mutual understanding of what it would be. I guess at 27, I was never meant to be a player or a manwhore, so apparently I should accept that I do need companionship and good conversation along with physical interaction.

Thanksgiving at home - I feel like I'm setting myself up for drama, but I don't even know if I'm going to stay past Thanksgiving day itself, so I'll just play it by ear.

And it's time to decorate the pad, YES! I'm even thinking about buying a model train set to go around my tree this year. Real tree for sure, holly wreath on the front door, maybe even some mistletoe, I'm going all out. You guys can expect a post in the next few weeks about D-Day (Decoration Day), complete with pictures and a reason why I'm choosing a certain day to do it.

Maryland seriously needs to pass a cell phone ban for drivers. I can't tell you how many times I've had to slam on my brakes because the douchenozzle in front of me is yap-yap-yapping while trying to switch lanes or make a left or right turn. As a result, Bonnie's shoes are being worn down, and I'll certainly have to take care of them after this holiday before it gets to be a problem. I swear, whatever it is can wait until you're there or in a parking lot some place. If you're lost, you should've MapQuested the place. Other than that, GET OFF THE PHONE AND DRIVE. Jiminy Christmas.

The recession has really re-awakened the miser in me, LOL...I really have been watching my spending on fast food and snacks I don't need, which is 100 percent of my bad spending. The BJ's card I got has helped as far as finding the beloved Jennie-O turkey burgers from the picture post that helps cut down on eating out. And with gas being back under 2 dollars (THANK YA LAWD!) My account is looking thicker and thicker these days. Good thing I'm with a bank that hasn't shown signs of going under *knocks on wood*

The digital camera has sort of given me a boost of self-love as I've spent most of my downtime taking photos and smiling at the results. I even got bashful sexy for my Facebook profile pic last night, it's definitely one of the favorites that I've taken. I guess I had to take pictures of myself, force myself to look at the results and say "hey, it could always be worse. You're a ham for the camera and your skin looks awesome."

Oh yeah, when are you guys going to visit and comment on The Soundtrack of my life? The musical musings compel you!

That's pretty much all for now, but I swear, I will have some stuff of substance in the coming weeks. I definitely want to thank you guys who keep reading and commenting and befriending me, this blog, aside from being a place to rant and write creatively, has proven to be a great networking and friendship tool, and I hope it continues to be that way.

Touch

Touching her would be one of life's truest pleasures
Uncovering the jewels within
Marveling at Eve's most prized of treasures
I'm not afraid to tell her what I want, and how bad
If she takes a walk on my wild side
I'm sure to be the best she's ever had
I can't hesitate, I need to let her know what time it is
When, what, where and how
I've got to let honey know so we can get down to biz
I ask her simply "can I touch you?"
She responds with widened eyes
I say again, "can I touch you and cause your passion to rise?"
Can I touch you higher or lower, faster or slower
left to right, side to side
It's up to you darlin', just let my fingers glide
Up and down your curves, the warmth of your skin blowing my mind
If I touch you, explosions will occur, time after time
I swear I've never been so forward, that's because I've never been so sure
My satisfying skills will be a memory that shall endure
I just want to hear your notes of bliss dancing in my ears
My touch is the calmest of vices
Known to ease a woman's fears
So I pose the question to her again, "Can I touch you, and cause your passion to rise?"
She nods softly, then we dim the lights.

The Many Faces Of Chris

This is what happens when you're bored on a Sunday after taking care of work matters ahead of schedule. And yes, Jennie-O white meat turkey burgers are love. Hope everybody's had a nice weekend.

In Lieu Of Not Having A Subject To Post About...

You can leave any comment about me on the anonymous tip. Say anything you want, how you feel, what you like about me, what you don't like about me, it's whatever. Check the anonymous box and have fun. And...go!

It's Been A Long Time Comin'....

As I drove to my work assignment yesterday afternoon, I turned to WHUR and heard "A Change Is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke.  Normally, I cannot listen to that song because of its hauntingly effective placement by Spike Lee in "X," but this particular time instead of turning it off for fear of an emotional breakdown, I turned it up, sang along with the late great Sam of song and smiled.  A huge, megawatt, cheshire cat smile that the majority of America is sharing.

In case you've been in a coma, under a rock, or just didn't pay much attention, Barack Obama became President-Elect of these United States Tuesday night, rendering most black folks who swore we'd never see this day dealing with a range of emotions, from absolutely joy to tears of disbelief.  I fell somewhere in the middle.  I immediately thought to my grandmother, who died two years ago, and wishing she could be HERE to share this with me and my mom, but much like Toot, Barack's maternal grandmother, she's up there with a smile on her face, I know she is.

I'm not ashamed to say as a man, I cried.  After Obama took Ohio and California, I said "Holy Shit..." and then the tears and the sobs took over my body and I just sat there watching it all on CNN.com with watery eyes and sniffling nasal passages.  One of those visceral moments that you actually thank God that you were here to see in spite of all that can and will go wrong in daily life.  

More importantly, for this black man, one with self-esteem issues and an ongoing internal identity crisis, this served as the ultimate pick-me-up, that the only thing stopping me from success and happiness is me.  If this guy, this skinny black kid with the funny name who rose from rookie senator to running the damn country in less than four years time can pull that off, then why can't I be happy?  Why can't I get it together in my personal life and be happy with who I am to the point where if I was a woman, I'd be all over myself?  Why can't I stop being afraid of spending the rest of my career and life in an area I can't stand and make some overtures to get the hell out of here?

There are no good answers for those questions.  I can learn to love Chris and therefore stop being afraid to approach women and hang out wherever the good single women kick it at.  I can put my portfolio together along with a kick-ass resume that I got some professional help on and start shopping my services elsewhere.  Thanks to Barack Obama's historic life, I know I can achieve what I want as long as I believe that I can.

But clearly, he has his work cut out for him.   The last eight years have been a trying time for America without question, culminating with the economy going down like Karrine Steffans at a video shoot, and Osama bin Laden is still in his cave with DishTV and DiGiorno's Pizza while American troops and innocent Middle Easterners are dying daily.  Obama will not be able to fix these problems in a year, or even one term.  But for as long as Lincoln passed the Emancipation Proclamation, all we've asked for is a chance to show what we can do, and nine times out of 10, we won't fail.  And I believe that Barack Obama will make it 10 out of 10 over the next for or eight years.

We Interrupt This Down Period In Chris' Life To Bring To You....

1989. The end of Reagan, the beginning of Daddy Bush, Aaron Hall was trying to give out a piece of his love, and Urkel was asking if he did indeed "do thaaaat?" During that relatively tame summer, a seven (soon to be eight) year-old boy in Wilmington, Delaware views his first Phillies game on WPHL17 and his grandma's old black and white TV and a love affair was born. Nevermind that the team sucked and played in a 90-percent empty concrete sports project building, but the sport of baseball had taken ahold of him, and through work stoppages, a fallen legend betting on the game and the all in all suckitude of the Phils for a good 13-14 years, the love affair never wavered.

Wednesday night, I went back to my office where there was cable (I still ain't got none, don't know if I will get it ever) and watched the final three-plus innings of Game Five. Heart racing, breathing shallow, eyes wider than R. Kelly's at a junior high prom...hoping this would be the night. The night a 25-year drought for Philly champions ended. And when Brad Lidge got Eric Hinske of the Tampa Bay Rays to wave helplessly at another ILL slider for strike three, Lidge crumbled to his knees in celebration, and I hit the roof. The Philadelphia Phillies were the World Champions. It still feels strange to type, but for fans, young and old, it's been a long time coming.

Aside from the sporting aspect of it all, the city of Philadelphia and the Delaware Valley as a whole needed something positive. With bullets flying and bodies hauled away almost hourly back home, people are at a loss as to how to stop the crime wave that has seized Pennsylvania, Delaware and New Jersey over the last decade. While one sports championship is nowhere near being a permanent solution, it was beautiful to check online newcasts and internet TV site and see people, black and white, gay and straight, middle class and lower class, all slapping hands, hugging, dancing, spraying each other with beer and champagne and cutting a fool for the right reasons. If only for this week, Philly was a city united, proud of its team and itself for hosting a world champion.

That's why sports are necessary in my opinion. With all the bad going on in the world, for two to three hours a night, no matter the sport, people can lose themselves in the thrill of athletic competition and when their team comes out on top, smile for a little while longer or just bring a smile to their face period. I know that's what the 2008 Phillies did for me Wednesday night, and I'll never forget October 29, 2008 as long as I live. It was day the jinx died, it was the day Philly embraced each other, and it was a day that the seven year old boy brought his joy and happiness to a 27 year old man who really needed it.