The Post Game Show

Limbo

2011-08-10T19:02:00.004-04:00

Might as well blow the dust off of this thang and update you folks and let you know where I can be found on these internets if you care.

Working on four months at the new gig and while I'm still trying to adjust (possibly too slow for anyone's and my liking), it's going well. The main thing for me is to be employed and be happy doing what I like doing. Still plotting and planning with side hustles, but this job isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination.

Life back in Delaware hasn't been easy or ideal, but it's still home and now that I have a new car, I can go cruising if need be. Too bad Wilmington is crazy as hell.

Yep, the Bonneville died, so now I own a 1999 Dodge Stratus and it's not bad. A couple of early problems I've had to solve and get fixed, but nothing major as of yet. This is the first car I've had with a working CD player, so I'm excited. She's a sweet silver thing, I call her Trish after WWE diva Trish Stratus. So far, it's just been to and from work (I've only had it about a month), but it's good to have a new set of wheels.

Now...I'm not sure how long I'm going to keep using this blog, as you can see, I tend to forget about it on a regular basis, but I have a more professionally-influenced blog (http://chrisstevenssite.wordpress.com) annnnnnnnnnnnnnd I have an internet radio show/podcast that's on live Sunday and Wednesday nights at 10 p.m., so go to http://www.blogtalkradio.com/chrisstevensonair and check me out.

That said, hope everybody's well and I'll be hitting your blogs more often as I'm getting settled in.

'Justments

2011-05-22T09:22:00.002-04:00

Well...I'm home. After losing my job in Maryland the last day of March, I sat around for a week, angry and annoyed, in limbo and in transition when I got word of another job back home in Delaware. It was almost like it was ordained. Got the job and literally had two weeks to get my stuff together and get back to the First State, which means I'm currently staying with family until I get enough time to find and secure an apartment.

Not the ideal circumstances (shelter-wise anyway), but I'm learning to adjust to life as it comes. I tend to be a black and white person - there's no middle ground or in between. Either you do or you don't, you will or you won't, it's a yes or a no. Kinda rigid, but I'm really not a fan of variables and extra stuff. Unfortunately, life doesn't care about what I want and what I like. I had to learn that when I was pushed out of my previous gig and then literally fell into another one less than two weeks later. Would I have been so fortunate had I not taken a chance? Probably not.

Either way, I feel good being back in Wilmington. Everybody I know is here, the city skyline welcomes me back from work every evening, and I just feel more at ease in the city and state I spent the first 26 years of my life in. Maybe you can go home again. Sure things'll be different, but as long as you feel comfortable, it's home. I was never comfortable in Southern Maryland. I'm comfortable here. I'm home.

Just another of life's adjustments.

No choice

2011-04-03T07:48:00.002-04:00

It's never really good to settle into a routine, especially one that's proving to be unhealthy. But we have no choice - food must be put on tables, roofs kept over heads, clothes on bodies, bills to be paid, etc.

We put up with so much in the name of the aforementioned, but we have no choice - what are we going to do? Just leave everything the way it is?

That's usually when you go for changing the routine or the routine changes for you. The routine was changed for me recently, and now I have to adapt and adjust. Which is good because while my responsibilities are nil, I tricked myself into think this routine was okay and that it would get better...signs were showing me that it wouldn't and then a huge sign slapped me in my face. Right on time.

So as I prepare to change my routine (and location), so many questions to answer - what will I do? What can I do? Will I be able to find a routine that fits me and that I'll enjoy? Will I ever find my stride?

I'm about to find out. I have no choice.

Where have I been yet again

2011-03-11T14:33:00.002-05:00

I'm telling y'all, Twitter is what's hot in the streets, son. Seriously, I spend all of my internet time cutting a fool with some of the craziest folks on the internet and sometimes networking with fellow professionals in my biz, not to mention the pro blog and the radio show take up a lot of my time outside of work, so I've kinda sorta forgotten about this format, so much so I left a comment on Miz's blog under the e-mail address for my radio show. Oops. Sorry, Miz!

But not much has changed, I'm 11 months or so into my gym usage and slowly but surely, my body is coming around, now if I can just kick sugar and carb snacks, I'll really be good. I've been saying this for a while, I need a yoga routine based on this, lol

The radio show is going well, only two months in and I have people listening to me talk sports and other stuff when the mood hits me and it's awesome. As much as I hate my voice, it's pretty cool to know that people really enjoy the show and want it to do well. The link is in a previous post, but if I anybody wants it, I'll be glad to share again. I usually go on Sunday nights from 11 to 11:30 p.m., but I hope to get more air time to talk about more for longer, but in the meantime, this is pretty cool. I'm having a blast.

I'm working nine straight Saturdays of work. Then when I do get a Saturday off, I probably won't know what to do with myself.

All in all, still alive, still well. Hope you guys are well also.

Psst...

2011-02-18T14:05:00.001-05:00

Hey...want to hear me talk? Want to hear me talk about relationships (and some random wrestling commentary) for 30 minutes? Click this here link. Comments and opinions are always welcome :)

A mess

2011-02-05T11:35:00.002-05:00

That's all I can title this blog post because that's what my life is at the moment, personally anyway.

I really believe women can't stand me. Seriously. I don't believe any woman that claims to like or be intrigued by someone when you play games when it comes to sex.

Not to mention It's always funny when women say "If this were a different time, I would have, but things have changed with me." Come. The. F ck. On. I might not be the most attractive dude in the world, but dumb is one thing I am NOT. I guess my words are coming back to haunt me I suppose. I've always said women want to have sex, they just don't want to have sex with you. Turns out the you is me.

Winter Weight Blues

2011-01-16T07:58:00.002-05:00

I stepped on the scale after my gym workout this morning and was mad as hell that the number was the same as it was the previous Sunday morning. How could this happen? I watch what I eat, I rock out at the gym four days a week, but the weight loss has just stopped DEAD in its tracks.

Now here's the tricky part - I can look in the mirror and see a change in my face and most areas of my body and my clothes are starting fall off my ass. So what's going on here? A little thing called muscle mass. Muscle is heavier than fat from what I understand and you build more of that in the winter my fitness genius acquaintance tells me. So I guess I can keep rollin considering I notice the changes, but I want that number DOWN.

I have to be realistic though because I didn't put the weight back on overnight, so I have to double the effort to lose it because it's so easy to gain it. Overall, I can't complain. I feel a lot better, move a lot faster and a lot of things I do aren't as exhausting as they once were. So I guess it's really not the blues, it's just excitement that I'm on the right path. The numbers will take care of themselves eventually.

2010: Nothing to write home about.

2010-12-30T12:18:00.003-05:00

Well the year is just about over, and I can tell you 2010 wasn't one of the better years in my life mainly because it was so...dull. I've fallen into a routine and a trap of being stuck here and hopes of going elsewhere seem to be slim, but I'm hoping I can find some fun in 2011 and keep hope alive professionally.

Best thing I did this year was finally join a gym in mid-April and put that membership to good use. Four times a week has really helped me feel better and even though the actual number hasn't decreased as much as I would like, 35 pounds is still 35 pounds and I'm moving faster, clothes are looser and I have a lot more energy than I have in year's past.

I still need to work on personal blogging but my professional blog has taken up a lot of my free writing time because I want to build that up and hopefully have some things come of that. Y'all check it out (http://ChrisStevensSite.wordpress.com) and please keep it and link it because that's where all of my non-personal stuff will go.

Also, I'm getting into internet radio/podcasting! Save this link as well (http://www.blogtalkradio.com/chrisstevensonair), my first show is this coming Wednesday, Jan. 5 at 6:30 p.m. I'll be doing live shows Wednesday and Sunday nights at 11 p.m. after this first show and if you can't listen live, you can go to that link and listen to the shows after the fact.

One thing I've learned in 2010 is that you can't please everybody and you're not supposed to try - people will just be angry, upset or unsatisifed just because they choose to be - as long as you're doing the best you can for yourself on all levels, that's all you can worry about and let the rest fall into place. I rarely (well, never) quote Beyonce, but it's true what she said - "Me myself and I, that's all I got in the end." You just have to keep on trucking and do things that make you happy, life's too short to live otherwise.

What do you hope 2011 brings? Happy New Year to you all :)

Christmas time

2010-12-08T15:48:00.002-05:00

I'm very much looking forward to Saturday. So much so that I have literally put my nose to grindstone at work so to speak so I can spend this weekend cleaning and decorating my house for the holidays. Saturday has special significance because it's my grandmother's birthday. She passed Independence Day '06 and I decided starting last year that to remember her on her birthday that I would always put my tree up and do other Christmas related things since her birthday was two weeks before Christmas - that's how we always remembered.

Even though I'm mildly affected by SAD (Seasonal Awareness Disorder), I still very much enjoy Christmas for the movies, the music, the random food and the family time even if I'm not back home in Delaware anymore. It's just a good time of year even if you're not a religious type (note: I do believe in God, but I don't believe in church. Maybe I'll explain later). I even did a Top 20 Christmas songs list over on my professional blog, so you guys should go check that out and leave a comment or two if you feel the need.

In the meantime, what are your some of your Christmas traditions? What do you enjoy (or not enjoy) about this time of year? Hope you all have a great holiday season :)

Saturday Morning Random

2010-11-27T09:37:00.002-05:00

I really wish I had a theme to my blogposts these days, but true to my life's form, really no set theme, so I'll just hit y'all off with the random until I have a theme.

Ms. Wright will be happy to know I have made contact with my father's daughter and so much is coming to light about our situations thanks to my mom, it's almost scary. I'm planning to have a full-scale chat with her soon.

Thanksgiving was great and when they say you're supposed to sweat out everything at the gym, they aren't lying. When I went to work-out the day after grubbing, I literally sweated everywhere. Kinda TMI, kinda gross, but it had to be done. I'm really not checking too much for the scale anymore which helps my confidence a lot. I'm basing it on how I feel(great, more energized) and how my clothes fit (looooooooooooose), so it's a work in progress and a working progress, so I can't complain too much.

I need a newer car, but can't afford one. Sucks, but what can you do?

Christmas time is nearing and I started playing Christmas music already and haven't got tired of yet, I love it. I'll probably have my 20 greatest Christmas songs up on my professional site by Wednesday, so y'all can check that out and tell me what you think

I've got to work so many weekends coming up it's ridiculous, but I'll be happy when Christmas/New Years week comes along which means I'll be able to slow down and really enjoy the season.

And that's pretty much it. Hope everybody had a great Thanksgiving.

5 Songs Post

2010-11-10T07:15:00.002-05:00

Stopped by Miz's blog and saw her post about 5 songs that have an affect on you in some way. Hopefully my five make some sense as they are similar in genre, but all over the place in the meaning. Note: For the record, at least 200 songs run through my mind on a daily basis, so this could be how I feel while writing this. That could change by the time I get in the shower and get ready for work in a few.

"Erotic City," Prince

"All of my hang-ups are gone...how I wish you felt the same." Prince stayed pushing the envelope before I guess you could call it settling down. That lyric I just quoted explains how I hope to feel some day. Hang-ups about myself, my goals in life, I'd like to get rid of them all at some point in the near future. Not to mention "we can funk until the dawn, makin love til cherry's gone" - who wouldn't love to do that?

"It's the way Nature planned it," The Four Tops

One of my favorite lazy day/night songs. The song itself is about how Nature being the reason for any multitude of things being the way they are, including love. Nature of course alludes to God or Nature and God being one in the same. Perfect song when things can beyond human understanding and comprehension, as a lot of things are these days.

"I gotta stay," Big K.R.I.T.

This cat is the next up from the South, REALLY dope rapper who doesn't spit about guns and drugs and does his own beats. Impressive. "I gotta stay" is about a relative who passed away. Closing in on my grandmother's birthday (she would've been 89 years old 12/11) I've played this song a lot and thought about her a lot. I don't want to say life was perfect when she was around, but she always gave me that extra push, and she's been gone four years now and I have to admit, my hustle game isn't as tight as it was when she was here. And I used to love her stories about our family. I wish I had listened more.

"Adventures in paradise," Minnie Riperton

If I ever had a radio show, this would be the intro song. Love the guitar, love the drums, Minnie's voice of course and the lyrics are a sure-fire way to get the pep in your step:

I believe any dream that I want to
That ain't the only way of keeping hope alive
And if by chance I give birth to my visions
Life is so fantastic it will come as no surprise
'cause everyday is adventures in paradise
Woven well through the fabrics of time

"The Song Is Familiar," Funkadelic

Three minute synopsis of my life. Music gets me through the daily hassles, pressures and struggles and makes it all bearable as long as I have a song in my head or heart.

The Struggle Continues...

2010-11-03T14:58:00.002-04:00

You ever felt totally down about it all, no matter what could possibly be going right in your life? I'm definitely going through one of those stretches where I find myself feeling sad, depressed, lonely, annoyed, pissed off and irritated. Those feelings rotate amongst each other and happy seems to be on the outside looking in, or locked away in a cage, whichever you prefer.

I guess maybe I just haven't really solved a lot of problems and situations that make me feel the way I do and that's probably why these feelings hit me all at once. I just don't know. Yesterday I was driving home from the office and all of a sudden, this feeling of sadness just hit me and I was down for a while until I had to go to my evening appointment - or at least I did my best to not show what I was feeling. It was so weird and so scary, I just couldn't figure out why.

I'm really worried about this because I really shouldn't be this upset. I'm losing weight (I'm about 20-25 pounds away from one of my main goals), I still enjoy fooling around with my laptop (one toy that'll probably never get old) and I'm still employed and still able to maintain my bills and live on my own. Those are things people would kill to be excited about and have going for them. For me, it's nice, but it still doesn't take away the feelings of being absolutely lame and not of any real value to anybody else.

It probably doesn't help that I have no friends or anyone to talk to where I live and most of my friends and family are almost 200 miles to the north of me. Or I could just do a better job of keeping in contact. Yet and still, I don't know if anybody really wants to hear my problems and frustrations. Maybe that's what this here blog is for.

I'll keep fighting though. Keep working hard at losing this weight, keep doing things that I like to do and hopefully things will change. Because I really don't like feeling as bad as I do.

Random Thoughts and Updates

2010-10-19T13:25:00.002-04:00

College homecoming - I went for the first time in two years and actually had a good time. Watched somewhat of a good game (DSU won, woo-hoo!) And got to catch up with a few folks I hadn't seen since I graduated in 2007. I was more excited to see the pictures tagged to me on Facebook. In the past because of my size I shied away from full body shots, but lo and behold, the gym is actually paying off for me. It's an exciting time for me in terms of getting my physical in order (or at least making the effort to) because it's working out so well.

I'm addicted to my laptop. I bought myself a Toshiba for my birthday and I literally can't get enough of the doggone thing. I've downloaded many a song (and *ahem* grown movies*) and I still have 2/3s of Hard Drive space left. I'm really tempted to transfer the Roland 808 drum kit modules from my old comp to the laptop and put some beats together for my own amusement. If I do, you'll be the first to hear my creations (the few of you that read this, lol).

As much as I long for the days of DirecTV back home, I find that thanks to the internet, I can still watch all kinds of sporting events via live-streams and old cartoons via YouTube. Who needs cable?

I haven't done any cooking in forever, but I'm thinking about trying out this random recipe I stumbled upon and seeing how it turns out. I can cook I just choose not too because I don't want to throw off my diet when I still have portion control issues. This is a process, that's for sure.

I'm really worried about how this mid-term election is going to turn out, mainly because people are so impatient and foolish to believe that things were going to change overnight and vote President Obama out of office in 2012. If that happens and Sarah Palin becomes president, I'm moving to Canada and starting my new career as a defensively lineman for the Montreal Alouettes. Oh, I could do it. I played football in high school.

I want to own an old car of some sort before I have to get serious and own a modern vehicle. My first choice will always be an original VW Beetle, but I'll settle for a Chevy from the 60s or 70s as well. Anybody got any for sale?

Picture Post

2010-10-06T18:49:00.005-04:00

I can get used to this feeling good about myself thing

The last year of imagined youth...

2010-09-27T18:58:00.002-04:00

Saturday marked the beginning of my 29th year of life. I actually did something different than sitting at home alone or at work. I went to D.C. with a girl I'd been talking to on O.K. Cupid. She took me to this bookstore/restuarant place in a "different" neighborhood, and while I was concerned about the surroundings (less than black and less than straight), I enjoyed the company and had a nice time out that I would've been scared to attempt as recently as...Friday morning. Not sure if sparks are flying, but to have something resembling a date was something like successful for me, and I can't (and won't complain). Highlight of the weekend was all the birthday wishes and a surprise phone call from a very special lady that really made my night.

It's all a part of learning growing as approach the final year of my 20s with hope for a good year before I join the 30-something club this time in 2011, Lord willing. 30 is really not old, but quite frankly, it isn't young either. I can't imagine doing the same things I do in my 20s and did in my teens when I hit that number. Yet I still have so much freedom because unlike most of my peers, I have no responsbilities (no shade to the married and those who are parents, by the way). I always felt like if I wasn't married and a father by now, my life would suck. Looking at it now, thank God I'm not. I'm honestly in no position to be anybody's father right now, not that I'd be a bad parent, but a broke one. And you know how that goes.

I still hope for greener pastures than the badlands of Redneck Maryland, but I know it's going to take an ethereal combination of hard work and some luck to do it. That can be sobering and disappointing at times, but I keep hoping and praying for a change - a change that happens soon.

I also realize I have to confront some things head on if I'm ever going to move on. I still haven't responded to my dad's daughter's message and I'm thinking I need to do it. I have to start closing chapters and start writing new ones.

That also includes my issues with women, and Saturday's quasi date showed me I'm not beyond repair as I thought. It just takes some more living, some more getting comfortable with who I am and WAYYYYYYYYYYYY more trying to see that women are different.

My gym habit has been very fruitful as I've lost a good 20 pounds as of September 1, so I'm definitly on the right track with that.

All-in-all, life is a learning experience that you can only learn from by living. So hopefully I can back up my talk and start living - one day at a time of course.

Papa was a rolling stone...

2010-08-31T18:29:00.003-04:00

It's been I guess three weeks now since I got a friend request and accompanying message from someone who I knew of my entire life but never spoke to once.

My younger sister had warned me that this was coming, but I still have yet to respond or figure out how to deal with the chaotic emotional state this put me in.

It was so matter of fact, so casual, like nothing ever happened - which is true, but in a different sense. Yet I still wasn't prepared.

"Hi, I'm your sister, how are you? I'd like to meet you or talk to you sometime."

That sentence has left me frazzled ever since. My dad's lone child with his wife, a woman in her early to mid 30s, contacted me and my younger sis wanting to touch base. It's pushed me into a state of discomfort that I do not like at all.

The details of how this all came to be might be better served for the memoirs or something, but I know that this has left me feeling really awkward.

I feel super guilty that I have yet to respond, but part of me is annoyed, like "why now?" I guess I'm just so used to my immediate family being what it is that in spite of knowing what my dad was about and what he was doing, I just was never that pressed about it. Now the reality of it all is knocking at my door and like Jehovah's Witnesses (no offense to those that practice that faith), I just ignore it. But how can I? My younger sis and older sis (adopted, BTW) are trying to convince me to respond (younger sis and dad's daughter have already met), but what can I say?

I've always been a detached person - I isolate myself better than anybody else. People back home rarely know what's going on in my life or how I'm doing or if I'm even alive. So the prospect of having to confront these issues is really messing with my head and my heart and I just don't know what the hell to do. Maybe this woman IS just trying to make amends for it all (to be fair, her mother - his wife - pretty much ignored us and forced my dad to do the same, hence the non-existent relationship). Part of me isn't sure - I've already joked that if she thinks we've got paper, she's sadly mistaken.

God only knows. Maybe one day I'll respond and face this head on. Or maybe I'll continue to let it sit there and wonder to myself how I've become so detached from flesh and blood in the first place.

Frustrated thoughts, or "Why getting laid shouldn't be this hard"

2010-08-13T18:58:00.003-04:00

I know far too many guys who get women to do what they want, when they want. It blows my mind that they can make phone calls/send texts and women are readily available for grown folks action.

So as my vacation week winds to a close, so begins what likely will be another super long busy period at work with no prospects of any kind. Part of it possibly is where I live, most of it is just the fact that women don't think enough of me to even treat me as a human being, let alone sleep with. Why is this such a big deal to me? Well, frankly, the old "you can't miss what you don't have" saying is a myth. You miss not doing anything. I can actually count the number of days almost to the hour during my droughts.

So yeah, it's a borderline obsession. Why? I mean what's the reason anybody likes doing anything? They enjoy it. I enjoy that part of male-female relationships. I just don't care for the other aspects of them. Therein lies the problem, I reckon - I just don't have the energy to put up a front. There are some cats who can get women to willingly go along with casual friends with benefits situations, but I can honestly say that at least 65 percent of men who are sleeping with women outside of relationships are lying in some form. They've convinced some women that a commitment's on the horizon, that they aren't interested in any other woman, XYZ.

Unfortunately, I can't lie. I learned very early in life when I tried to hide a behavior report (cardboard material, BTW) from my mom by flushing it down a toilet that it was just better for me to tell the truth, because lying wasn't something I was ever gonna be good at. That pretty much means I can't say to a woman "You're the only one for me, I want to be with you only, can we make love?" Because that's a flat-out lie.

Yet, the direct, forward, tell-it-like-it-is approach has rarely, if ever, worked for me either. I guess because even when I'm telling the truth, I guess I already have a sense of "she's going to say no because of how I look/my weight, etc." And more often than not, no is of course the answer, mainly because I don't fit the description of a man women want to be naked for. I don't believe that women are prudes because they think about and want sex just like men do - probably more so if you believe these studies and surveys.

So what can I do? I don't know. I just know I'm tired of once or twice and year that's it. That's no way for anybody to live - even if they're universally undesirable like me.

Where Have I Been?

2010-08-05T11:58:00.002-04:00

Well, thanks to randomly checking this blog, an e-mail from MrsTDJ and Ms. Wright telling me to get back to it, I guess I should update you guys on where I am.

I've been in the gym for three 1/2 months now, I lost seven pounds in July so I'm making progress. I just need to focus on the eating part of this whole deal. I still eat emotionally, way over portioned and still unhealthy. If I can lose seven pounds with my current eating habits? Sky's the limit when I get those habits under control.

I'm on vacation after tomorrow, and I'm not even planning to go anywhere. I'm just going to relax and get ready for the super grind at work. I am planning to buy a laptop to replace my antiquated desktop, so hopefully with a faster computer, I'll have more opportunities to blog.

Also, Twitter has taken up all of my random thoughts time. So much easier to just randomly say what I want there and also keep up with a favorite *ahem* lady blogger.

Three years have gone by pretty fast actually since I finished college and I've been employed in some form every step of the way. The pressures and annoyances of my gig get to me once in a while, but I try to remember it could always be worse.

Is Blogger dead?

2010-05-22T16:44:00.003-04:00

Or am I just not reading enough blogs to find other folks to connect with in this forum?

I know, it would help if I blogged more than once every two months, but you can blame Twitter, trying to concoct side hustles and finally getting myself in the gym for my extended absences and neglect of this here blog.

Yep, I've finally (somewhat, anyway) gotten over my fear of working out around strangers and gotten myself to the local gym, where I go four times a week. I've been doing that for a month now and while nothing major has changed in my physique yet, I do feel better about doing something legit Monday/Wednesday/Friday/Sunday mornings and then going on with my day. I may start walking about if the gym gets to be a bore, but I can hit about three times the number of miles on the bike I could walking most days, so I'll continue that, along with the light weight stuff I've been doing.

It's been an interest experience. Of the people that are in there in the early morning hours, I'm the most out of shape one by far. But much to my relief, no one pays me any attention. I mean people speak and say good morning, but there's none of the fear I associate with most, if not all, social situations. I go in, do my thing, others are doing theirs, and then I'm out. Simple stuff really. I'm feeling pretty good after the first month, so I figure if I can keep this going into 2011, I'll really be in good shape for my 30th, which would be September 25th of that year. I should stop imposing deadlines on myself and take it as it comes, so feel free to disregard that last statement.

In other news, apparently I'm better at giving advice than I am enacting it in my own life. The reason I say that is I've been in a lightweight Hitch role, counseling a friend or two on matters of romance. It's funny that I can give decent advice to others about what to do, what to say, how to play a game, etc., but can't do it in my own life. Kinda like the gifted songwriter who writes the greatest love songs out, but their love life sucks, know what I mean?

The side hustles part is my professional blog, which I encourage you guys to bookmark and read up on. Many of my friends in the media industry have started blog sites, complete with resumes and work samples, so I've done the same thing with mine. Only have two samples us, but soon as I figure out how to handle PDFs, the clips portion of the blog will be good to go. I've been in this gig for almost three years, and I need to start working on my future. Funny thing is, I'm not as pressed as the stress of the gig forced me to be before. Somehow, I've learned to roll with the punches and just do my best and hope something else comes along. Things usually happen when I least expect them to, so I try not to think too much about it.

And yeah, women are still treating me like crap. It's hard to keep fighting a fight you'll never win, but I hold out hope there are some women out there that look at me as a human being and not regard me as some kind of alien fool. Oh well, that's life - or at least my life with women, anyway.

I promise I'll update and keep tabs on your blogs more, but if there's anybody you suggest I check out, let me know. I really need to get back into this thing :)

More Creative Writing

2010-04-23T21:19:00.002-04:00

Okay, so it's National Poetry Month and as kind of a continuation of the short story I wrote about three weeks ago, here's a poem of a reflective nature.

Selfish

We're all selfish to some degree
Some have associate's, bachelor's, I myself have a masters
Too concerned with my own problems to notice it's not about me
Too sheltered to understand what I need to go after
Blinded by previous failures, potential happiness ran off fast
Wrapped up in my own problems, I've ignored many chances
By allowing myself to be a victim of the past
I've missed out on the best of glances
The inability to see my own mistakes made me a fool
I can only blame myself for the failure realize that you're human too
You laugh, you cry, you have feelings, you have problems, yes I know
Only with age comes wisdom, wish I could have learned this long ago
This won't come easy, but I know I need to have the ability to care
If the happiness I seek will ever be there

The Cynic's Death

2010-04-05T21:15:00.001-04:00

So the new Alicia Keys song got me a bit keyed up to write creatively again, and here are the results. Feel free to read and comment. Thanks.

The morning sun snuck through my blinds and tapped me on the head until I awoke from a slumber I didn't even remember falling into. It's rare that I don't remember falling asleep, but after the previous night's events, it was understandable.

Cynicism was my best friend. It never let me down. Kept me honest when I felt myself getting to excited about anything, proved to be right whenever something didn't go my way. It also served as a buffer between me and the rest of society, a necessary bodyguard against sharing my feelings and emotions with humanity, who I was at odds with even though I'm a card carrying member of the group. However when I needed cynicism the most, my most trusted friend took a backseat.

It all started innocently enough, as most of these type of situations do, with being introduced by mutual friends. I didn't believe her interest from the jump because cynicism was still riding with me and our bond was tighter than Tiger Woods with Subway coupons. My friend thought I was being difficult. Her friend thought I was an asshole. I didn't think much of it. She, on the other hand, persisted.

Trading of phone numbers turned to texting, texting turned to phone calls, phone calls turned to conversations of current events. That's as far as I would let it go because I knew better. The fact that any woman, regardless of her character and intangibles - and she had a lot of positive ones - showing interest in me was a set-up. That's what cynicism told me.

Yet, she persisted. Long enough for me to agree to chill at my place one evening. Cynicism was PISSED.

"The hell are you doing," cynicism asked furiously. "This goes against everything we've talked about. She doesn't care about you! She's trying to play you. WAKE UP!"

"You sure are quiet tonight," she said in that sweet but assertive tone she usually took with me. We were watching the Five Heartbeats, a movie we both liked.

"I'm just focusing on the movie," I said. Now any other woman, one who knew what that meant, would excuse herself and call it a night.

Not this one. She figured out that cynicism was behind my indifferent attitude, and she began attacking the enemy.

"So I've noticed. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me," she chuckled mildly. Something awakened in me at that moment. The side of me that I let lie dormant. She successfully got to the soft spot that doesn't like to hurt feelings...especially when my attitude wasn't telling the truth about my feelings.

"It's not that I hate you or anything," I started.

"So what is it? Something you don't want to admit - you're making me pay for your past," she interrupted.

She continued to pound away at cynicism. "See, you think I'm not on to you. You're afraid to let me in because of all you've been through. Guess what, baby? We all hurt. We all suffer. Any other chick would've said to hell with your simple ass, but I'm not any other chick. I see something special in you and I'm gonna keep going until you see it in yourself and see that I do care."

Cynicism was hanging on by a thread. I stood up, albeit weakly and said "If you know so much about me, then what's next? I should change how I feel for you when I don't even know if you'll be here tomorrow? Come on now."

She stood up, approached me and literally had my back against the wall. She rubbed my shoulders and said "Don't change for me - change for yourself." At that point, my complexion was the only thing saving me from giving away the warm flush my skin was experiencing. My breathing became shallow. She kicked cynicism's ass.

"So," she said softly but with unflappable confidence. "Are you ready to let go?" I could only lean down to give her a chance at my lips. She readily accepted and good thing she didn't wait for a verbalized answer. We may have been staring at each other all night.

******

After the sunlight woke me up, I stirred and checked to see if she was there. Nothing. Only traces of her scent were left to remind me that once again, I had let my guard down only to be let down again. Or so I thought. I realized I hadn't left the TV on so pulled on my basketball shorts and peeked out of my bedroom door and there she was. Wearing my Phillies 2008 World Series champions t-shirt and nothing else, indian style on the couch.

"Breakfast is on the counter," she said between bites of bacon and waffles. "Help yourself." I tried not to smile as I made myself a plate and sat next to her and watched SportsCenter while eating.

She rubbed my leg and said "I think you're ready to let go."

And cynicism and I are no longer friends.

So much on the mind

2010-03-12T13:15:00.004-05:00

I have beef. Which isn't unusual if you've been reading this here blog, but there's so much to beef about it's like "why limit myself?" I'm going to hit as many subjects as I can before I go sit-up crazy and head to my work assignment tonight.

Beef #1. Why aren't you guys following me on Twitter? Oh. You didn't know I had one? Let's fix that - @CJStarchild. There we go, follow me and I shall follow you.

Beef #2. Homophobia. Now I'm as straight as an arrow (even when women irk my life), so one could say gay rights really ain't my fight. However, I empathize with gays and lesbians because it's hard to find someone you love and want to be with, especially if you're same-gender loving. Not because it's hard to find people, but because the Bible-thumping dregs of society won't let them be. Case in point, a Mississippi school district decided to shut down a high school prom before letting a lesbian couple attend. If you disagree with homosexuality, then that's fine - to each his own. But to deny every kid the right to attend a prom because a lesbian couple would make your fuddy-duddy ass feel uncomfortable is ABSURD. It's about the kids. Let them have their fun, let them enjoy their prom and mind your own business.

Beef #3. People who throw their relationships in your face. Subtly or just all out "ha ha, I'm with somebody." Fuck you. No seriously. It's amazing how people will flaunt their newfound loves with that new car smell on it, then when it starts to break down it's "love sucks, people ain't shit, blah blah blah." How about you worry about maintaining your lovey dovey relationship instead of playing show and tell with it? Okay, I'm done :)

Beef #4. Maryland Drivers. Y'all horrible. I'm from Delaware where it ain't but two ways to get somewhere - up and down. Y'all take advantage of the foolywang that is the Baltimore and Capital Beltways and make life miserable for those of us who haven't figured out the Mixing Bowl while you're on your cell phone talking/eating food/manually stimulating each other (to that couple on 97 South last Thursday night - yep. I saw you.). Know your role and drive or just get off the road.

Beef #5. Giving up fast food for lent. Three weeks in and I want to cry every time I ride past Chick-Fil-a/Burger King/McDs/Popeye's, but I made a promise to myself - to wean myself off of blowing money on fast food, and so far it's working. And it's keeping money in my pocket that can go towards a new computer, hopefully a laptop. So I guess this isn't really beef, except for the fact I SO need a Chicken sandwich right now.

If you've got a beef or want to comment on mine, you know what to do. TGIF :)

Tales of a bitter man...

2010-03-01T20:21:00.004-05:00

Yeah, that's right. I'm going there tonight. To quote the esteemed Terrell Owens, "Get your popcorn ready, it's gonna be a show."

So as I was absent the entire month of February (it's just so short, but thank God because Spring is coming), I may as well go ahead and dive all the way in, or in March parlance, come in like a Lion. This is my betrayal of a previous stance saying that I wouldn't blog about certain subjects anymore, but whatever. Enough is enough.

The talk of the black internet world - and in some cases, beyond - is a new book by Jimi Izrael called "The Denzel Principle." While honestly not a fan of Mr. Izrael's, I certainly have a level of empathy for him as he is being lambasted all over the internet as a bitter woman-hating clown for even writing this book, which I haven't read yet and might not (balling on a budget as it stands).

I empathize with Mr. Izrael because I am one of the bitter ones. Yep, full disclosure right now. I've dealt with more disrespectful, cruel, disingenious, bad-intentioned, mean-spirited tripe from women than this here box will allow me to talk about in full. As I've said before, I don't think of myself a special character because I have a degree/career-focused gig/never been in trouble with the law, but I'm tired of being disrespected by women because I don't fit the description of the dude who soaks their panties.

While Mr. Izrael's focus is clearly on black women, I'm not one of to just say that this is a black problem. I'll use one of my recent mishaps as an example.

On a free dating website, I got this really random fawning message from a 24-year old white woman, saying that I was cute, let's talk, looking for someone to see down here, XYZ. Now, normally white women do not do it for me. In spite of all I've dealt with, I remain pretty much pro-black love (although this blog entry might suggest otherwise), but I decided "why not?"

After a few weeks of chatting, I pretty much realize through clues that she's looking for a sucker. Clue 1) she's still banging her ex. Clue 2) using depression and me allegedly making her cry cards when I say I'm not interested in being someone's girlfriend with a penis. Clue 3) An e-mail that accuses me of being selfish.

So no, I'm not saying that only Black women are capable of manipulation and b.s. - I'm saying ALL women are. Equal Opportunity Users.

So yes, I am bitter, because I get treated so poorly for being nothing but myself. In case you can't tell by the picture in the upper right hand corner, I'm not 6'3, 180 pounds, lightskinned, my voice isn't Barry White-esque and I don't have any unique hairstyles to speak of. If anything, that pic is a bad hair day because I usually get my scalp cut super close to the skin.

So with that in mind, women look at me as some sort of hapless moron, too glad to be close enough to a woman without her laughing at me that I'll accept anything handed to me. Then when I turn out to be a man with common sense, and - like most men - a basic desire to not be emasculated by false friendships, I become everything but a child of God and a misogynist who needs counseling. Which is funny because last time I checked I'm a lot smarter than any of these women who try to run the most elementary game on me. I might be a lot of things, but out of my mind is certainly not one of them.

And here's why I write this post with a heightened level of fear and uneasiness in my heart, even though I shouldn't have to feel that way - I know this is going to offend women who I am friends with. Many of the women who haven't infuriated me or tried to play me for a fool and I have had numerous conversations about my quandry, without much of a resolution, to no fault of theirs. It's not unsual for me to have a pretty good conversation with one of them in the day and by nightfall have some woman tell me she's not interested in sex even though she clearly has wall postings and pictures that suggest otherwise.

My friends will be mad because they are, of course women. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "so that's what you think of me?"

"No," I respond defensively.

"Then all women aren't the same."

Maybe not, but there comes a time in every man's life (especially this man, who is watching his peers and childhood friends tie the knot and raise families at a lightning quick pace) where he gets tired of being nothing to no one.

And what makes it worse is I signed up for the new wave honesty box Formspring (http://formspring.me/CJStarchild) and had an anonymous question that a woman friend posed to me that I'm intelligent, funny and a good friend, but a relationship with me would be difficult.

It wouldn't be difficult if I knew someone liked me. It wouldn't be difficult if somebody cared. It wouldn't be difficult if someone accepted me for who I am instead of belittling me for what I'm not. But of course, it was anonymous, so I'll never know who allegedly liked me until they were turned off by my attitude toward women. Wouldn't you be mad if EVERYONE of the gender of your attraction treated you like absolute garbage? Ghandi said turn the other cheek, but both have been slapped senseless.

Oh well, maybe I've alienated some people with this post, but it was something that needed to be said. I don't agree with Jimi Izrael or his book, but I understand where he's coming from. I'll never judge someone else's journey because God knows mine has been a rough one. Anyone looking down at me should try it some time.

Just Cruisin' Along...

2010-01-24T11:27:00.003-05:00

Let me set the mood for this particular entry:

Are you relaxing now? Good, because I am too, and I want to share some things I'm learning as my 20s wind down. It seems that in the first three and a half weeks of this new decade, I've become strangely jaded about a lot of things. About my struggles with women, about the stress of dealing with certain folks at the gig, about whether I'll finally lose enough weight to become desirable to said women.

I wonder often what triggered this shift, but I can only attribute it to getting over that quarter-life crisis hump. The one that goes from about 23 to I guess here at 28, when you start worrying about what happens if you die early, if you'll ever get to do what you want, if you'll ever reach goals, things of that nature. Now it seems like an inner-peace just jumped in my body and said "HEY! Get used to me son, I ain't goin' anywhere right now." I find myself stressing less about things that are really beyond my control and I find myself caring less about people and situations that really have never cared about me. And you know what? I LOVE it.

I had a thought Thursday when I was dealing with some foolishness (the last of such I'll take from women) and I realized that it is indeed a long road to transformation and getting over things that have hurt you and troubled you, and it won't be without bumps. But as long as you stay on the road with a conscious effort to keep moving forward, you'll be in good shape.

And it also helps to have a good mellow-out song to help aid the detoxing of stress, which would be the song above. When I hear Smokey gliding over this track, I'm in a really good place. Like he says in the bridge, "Let the music take your mind." So when I hear this song, I'm in my relaxed, peaceful, and most importantly, HAPPY zone and during that 5 minute and 51 second span that this song plays, I can't be stressed. It's a sonic force field from stress and negativity, no doubt.

So hopefully this will signal a shift in not only my attitude and way of life, but hopefully blog posts as well as I won't be as down and out as most of my post seems. You're all welcome to hop in as I cruise into my 30s :)

I hate it when that happens

2010-01-12T12:03:00.003-05:00

I'm definitely a person that has a HARD time admitting that he's wrong. And by the time I come to grips with it, the situation - and the person with it - are usually long in the rear view mirror.

Case in point, my last semi-serious situation with a woman. We'll call her SC for the initials of her home state.

SC and I met through my usual way of meeting women, had a disagreement not long into conversation and I thought that was the end of that. Instead, a few days later, she invited me to walk around her neighborhood, and we did. I felt stupid for arguing with her and kinda shied away after that. Two weeks later I hit her up just to say hello and she asked me what I was doing that night? I said nothing, so she said to come get her and we could watch a movie at my place. We watched "The Wood" and she got real comfortable. Feeling a sense of go for it, one thing led to another and before long after the movie, we went there.

The same thing happened the following week, and during this time we were also walking partners. Then she began complaining about me never wanting to go anywhere that I never spend money, and then the big and final blow-up occurred. Would you believe this all happened in about a month's time? Either way, it's been four months since we last spoke and today while I was riding to work, the entire scenario came back to me and all I could do was shake my head.

I complain about not having anyone to spend time with. She spent two weekends to me. I'm always turned on at the thought of a woman relaxing around me. She watched movies and cleaned my apartment in a t-shirt and socks. And I let the fact that I don't like spending money or going out keep from the coveted friends with benefits or maybe even more.

I thought about it, and I laughed. Not some huge, ROFTLMAO-type deal, but a sincere chuckle like "Yep, I get in my own way, don't I?" Thinking about that situation makes me think about other chances I've had and clearly have ruined them with my own thoughts of "other guys don't have to go through this" along with excuses about my budget and other things.

So yep, definitely hating when I realize I'm wrong, because it's usually way too late to fix a situation. Why doesn't this thing kick in earlier? Oh well. I'm glad to know it works at least.

Decade of Change

2009-12-28T11:53:00.003-05:00

When the new millennium started, I was an 18-year old student taking courses at a local community college, not knowing what the future held for me and if I would even be content to move beyond working as a data entry clerk on a temporary basis from job to job.

As this decade ends, I'm 28, possessing a degree in mass communications, working in my field (and not sure if I want to stay here), living on my own, and still by myself. Still, looking back on how the 2000s started, even I can say I'm in a lot better shape professionally now.

These last nine-plus years have been a roller-coaster ride, that maybe with the exception of social withdrawal, I wouldn't change for anything. I did a lot of things I never thought possible and some things I should've thought through more clearly, lol...but they happened for a reason.

I discovered a passion to write (personally and professionally), I learned HBCUs are the greatest thing since sliced bread, I came across this activity called sex (and couldn't get enough of it), and I found out that I can indeed lose weight if I focus clearly enough.

Things I'm still learning include patience, one thing which I sorely lack. That might actually help me in various areas of my life because right now, my inability to just wait and let things unfold is costing me big time.

I really can't say what my goals for 2010 are, mainly because I don't know right now, but what I can say is a lot of people, habits and situations won't be coming with me into 2010, that's for sure. People usually pick the New Year to change things because January 1 always symbolizes a new start, and I'm no different. I figure it's easier for me to just hit the reset button on a lot of things on 01/01 because it'll give me a whole year to kick them completely and move on to some more things the following year.

Hopefully everyone who reads this blog has a happy start to the new decade :)

Since We've No Place To Go...

2009-12-19T19:35:00.002-05:00

I can remember virtually every major snowstorm of my life, maybe with the exception of 1982 because I wasn't even crawling yet, but THIS joker outside my apartment right now is serious business. I had a very busy Friday as I had two events for work at the opposite ends of two counties. Somehow I made it to both on time and before the snow got really bad, so I've spent today watching TVOne's Unsung series on YouTube (I wish they'd put those joints on DVD for crying out loud) and taking an itis-induced nap.

Snowstorms are always helpful if you have companionship, but since I don't have that, I've spent this Saturday catching up on some much needed rest, maybe overeating - wait, DEFINITELY overeating - and just chilling, trying to keep warm. Overlook the oxymoron-ness of that last statement if you will.

It's been interesting living in this part of Maryland because folks were literally buying out the stores like a Nuclear war was starting. I traipsed through Wal-Mart rather calmly, picking out some random food items while people were rushing through the aisles, snatching stuff up like Bobby Brown at a crackhouse. Eh, snow is snow. It melts eventually. Makes communiting a b-i to be sure, but it melts. I just love the sheer beauty of everything being covered in snow, especially when it's falling from the sky.

I was coming out of Wal-Mart last night when I remembered how we used to play football and street hockey in the snow when were younger, my friends and I. There was always some convoluted reasoning and ruling as for football we didn't have yard markers or anything, so 10 steps from the line was a first down. I remember one particular game we were playing and we had a long drawn out play that eventually saw me catch a screen pass horizontally from one end of the field to the other. I went downfield, broke a couple of tackles before being pushed down after what seemed like an eternity and triumphantly pointed forward for a first down. And here comes my friend D out of the blue:

"Line of scrimmage to your buttprint...EIGHT STEPS. NO first down!"

I was pissed but we all fell out laughing at his comical measurement. Hockey was just us not having any clue about the rules. We thought a high stick meant you couldn't get your stick above your shoulders. And instead of two minute penalties we just gave each other penalty shots. Good times for young kids in the hood.

I peeked outside a few times expecting some giddy kids running around in the snow and I didn't see it, which bummed me out to a degree. We used to get on my mom's nerves so bad she would MAKE us go outside and play until she had dinner ready, lol. And there was the winter storm of 96 that saw my 10-year old sister driving my mom's car up the block. Let me tell you how this one went down.

We were cleaning up the driveway after the snow and I was digging through mom's backseat looking for the salt stuff to clean off the steps and the sidewalk. I hear the drivers' side door open and shut and I'm like "Oh, mom's moving the car up in front of the house." WRONG. My sister turned the car on, put the thing in drive and I was like "NO! WAIT! WE'RE GONNA DIE!" Instead, she moved the thing a few hundred feet like she had been driving for years, and I'm in the backseat stunned as my mom looks at her pulling the car up to the front of the house. Comical.

All this reminiscing is good for a smile when you don't have much else to do on a day like this. I guess this is why I love snowstorms, because it does bring up some good memories.

Still a work in progress

2009-12-09T16:58:00.003-05:00

As my most recent posts suggest, I've really been in a funk for the longest time and not quite sure how to get out of it, considering the source of what's bothering me and all, but I'm still fighting through it. I just still hold to that fear that nothing will ever swing in the right direction for me.

2010 is pretty much upon us, which means, by God's good graces, I will be 30 on September 25, 2011. And I don't know if I'll be in any better shape than I am now physically and emotionally. Again, I look at people my age who have families and relationships, and I can't even date regularly. Frustrating to say the least. I really wish there was an easy fix, like I could grow another three or four inches, lose about 150 pounds, develop some kind of hardcore or smooth mentality and my life would be SO much easier. But of course that's not going to happen.

Best I can do physically is try to watch what I eat, keep walking, keep doing sit-ups and push-ups, hopefully sooner rather than later, things will change for the better. I figure the only way I'll have better luck with women is if I completely alter my physical appearance. Some of you may find it stupid, but I find it real and unfortunately, the way of the world.

I guess I could stop predicating my happiness on what women think of me and their willingness to do things with me, but I still think it's strange for me to be this late in the game and have the struggles that I do.

A break

2009-11-29T11:01:00.001-05:00

Not taking a break from blogging, but considering all of my posts are usually heavy, I owe you guys something goofy. And that's me on a toy harmonica playing along with "Let it whip" by the Dazz Band when I was home in Delaware this past weekend. Enjoy :)

Aftermath

2009-11-19T18:16:00.003-05:00

Being along with your own thoughts can be a scary thing, especially when they start speaking truths you damn sure weren't prepared for.

Thanks are due to all who handed out some constructive words and opinions on my last post. I've had some sobering moments as of late in the aftermath of that post, and I'm starting to see what kind of person I really am towards women and it's embarrassing and saddens me.

99 percent of the time, I fail to think of women as humans with emotions, feelings, lives, thoughts, etc. I feel bad because I wasn't raised that way. I could blame it on single motherhood, woman can't raise a boy to be a man and all that jazz. But my mom did teach me, among many of her great lessons, to treat people how you want to be treated. Somehow in my social exile and reliance on technology, I lost my way in that sense.

I really haven't spent much time out in my life other than work and the occasional sojourn, my true and honest time around women in person is almost non-existent. So I guess I let TV, music and yes, adult entertainment, guide my perception of women and it really has gotten out of hand.

I'm really afraid of this loner mentality I've enveloped myself in because I know now that it's not completely women, although I have come across some bad ones. I'm fully aware that my inability to step outside of my comfort zone and at least try to interact with women in person has led to this crappy attitude and that I really don't deserve any sort of time from any woman right now.

Because I'm bored waiting for Game Four of the World Series...

2009-11-01T17:20:00.002-05:00

I'm asking all women who read my blog (and tell your friends so they can come respond and help) to help me figure out y'all to SOME degree. Do you or do you not sleep with a guy you like without making jump through hoops of fire? I'm so serious about this because from about age 16 til now, I've noticed the few women that have allegedly "liked" me have almost no interest in having sex with me. Recently as this week, I had a girl say she liked me, gave me compliments (which I'm starting to think was bs because no woman has ever seen anything good in me) then when she talked about hanging out or coming to visit, she said it would take three or four visits for something physical to occur. Uh...huh?

I'm sorry, but from what I've seen and heard and lived with in my college days, it didn't take three or four dates/hangouts/whatever for two consenting adults to get physical. Maybe my expectations are shot or my thought process is wrong, but if you like a person, you'll do something with them, period. My feeling is women don't want to have anything physical to do with me because of my looks and my weight, which means they really don't like me. I've seen numerous guys who have women liking them whenever, wherever.

So help me out: Am I wrong for thinking that women don't like me because they won't have sex with me? Or am I right and discovering the painful truth that women just hate me through and through? Floor's yours. Oh, and by the way, anonymous comments will be deleted unless they have some merit :)

Now normally I don't do this, but uh...

2009-10-21T11:01:00.003-04:00

If I'm quoting R. Kelly, then it must be an important matter. Well not really, but I would like to dissect an annoying trend that has taken place in the comments section since February. That month I made a post about the girl who has affected my perception of women and friendships with them for about 10 years when the first attack was launched.

"You should get counseling. Immediately."

I was already annoyed from the get because that's an insult to me. Always has been, always will be, don't care what anybody thinks about it. But I was able to ignore it.

Another deep post in April yielded another disrespectful comment:

"Way too depressing."

This post in May: "Go and get counseling!"

I noticed the trend in June and posted about it, but was met with derision. Same deal a month later.

I disabled anonymous comments after that, but enabled them again because I always feel like somebody who doesn't have Blogger, Wordpress or anything of the sort still might want to leave a positive comment or add on to what I write about. And then we get to the previous post.

"You're sick. Please get help."

So that's at least six instances where someone has felt the need to add to the problem rather than be part of the solution. And thanks to that handy dandy blog tracker on the side, I've noticed that this yellow ball-less internet personality comes from Mt. Laurel, NJ and New York City by way of Ten95 or my friend T-Dot's page. And I know T-Dot is a stand up woman and she'd never say anything to me anonymously that she couldn't or wouldn't say to me directly. So to the clown in the Metro NY area who keeps leaving corny comments - get a life. While I never claimed to be the most perfect or right individual walking the planet, at least I am trying. Comments full of shade like the ones your throwing don't help. And yes I put a lot out there, but at the same time, I have a name and a picture attached to mine. What's your excuse?

Jekyll/Hyde Blues

2009-10-07T11:22:00.003-04:00

I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing

Until they got a hold of me...

I opened doors for little old ladies,

I helped the blind to see...

Transitions rarely happen overnight. Good ones force you to be patient and hope that it thoroughly completes itself and at the right time. Bad ones usually are the ones that move the fastest, but you still have time to stop it if necessary.

Needless to say I failed to stop my transition, to quote Spongebob Squarepants, "from good noodle to bad egg." Not as an overall detriment to society by any means, but my social graces are non-existent and the situation with women seem to get worse instead of better.

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers

They can't be seen with me

And I'm gettin' real shot down

And I'm feelin' mean...

There was a time when the words used to describe me were "respectful," "polite," "well-mannered," "well-behaved" and probably the one word I hated to be describe as maybe even more than my weight, "sweet." I was over being sweet by the middle of my second year at Del State. I had learned in two semesters of living on campus that women weren't in the market for "sweet" guys. There, I said it. The last time I classified myself as a nice guy, LeBron James didn't have his Hummer, there was no Iraq war and Jay's Second Blueprint banged all over campus.

No more Mr. Nice Guy

No more Mr. Squeaky Clean

No more Mr. Nice Guy

They say he's sick, obscene...

I figured that in order to at least get some positive attention, I shouldn't ask a girl how she's doing, shouldn't show too much emotion (HA! That didn't work out very well) and I shouldn't try to be interested in them because they almost thrive on being ignored. Somewhere along the way when that didn't work out, bitterness set in, and I found myself dogging women every chance and place I had room to do so. Forget my desires and wants, my ability to even carry on a decent conversation with a woman is null and void.

But what's crazy is, when I think about when I was a young and impressionable sort, one who thought of women as all being queens and being better than me and that I'd be eternally grateful to be a small part of their world, I gag. I'm embarrassed that I was such a brown-noser. Maybe that part in the "Keep ya head up" vid when Pac is admonishing his partners for catcalling Jada Pinkett Smith went to my head, who knows? But I definitely didn't want to turn out like this. Now as long as I'm allowed to breathe, I'm sure I can change, but this transition is going to take a long time to occur. I just hope it's not too late.

Admission

2009-09-27T19:16:00.003-04:00

I get mad.

I get pissed off.

I'm offended.

I feel disrespected.

I cuss them out.

I threaten them.

I wish ill upon them.

All because they won't have sex with me. I hate women because I love sex, and they aren't willing. I'm a misogynist. I wish I wasn't.

One Step Forward, 1000 Steps Back....

2009-09-13T17:24:00.004-04:00

I can't keep women in my life. My walking partner/FWB is now a distant memory after a particularly ugly fight (don't worry, my last name ain't Brown, no violence) a week ago that put me right back at Square One as far as the ongoing struggle with women goes. Instead of giving up on my walking because I was now alone again, I just decided to go back to what I did last fall. First thing in the morning, stretch, 10 laps, stretch again, but this time with the sit-ups after, THEN get my work day started. It's worked out well so far this week, however I can't help but feel guilt and shame over my latest troubles.

I really don't see things getting better as far as dealing with the fairer sex goes. I won't even go into detail about how this recent situation went from sugar to... you get the picture. I just always go back to my favorite saying in reference to these problems: "I can't win for losing." It just seems like women do not like me in the least, whether it's my physical appearance or something else, I always seem to get shot down. Slowly but surely, my physique is changing, especially in areas that really were an eyesore to me, so if I keep with this recent routine (and I plan on doing my best to keep it up), I'll be to where I want to be in terms of body shape and weight.

But what if I get there and nothing changes? It'll feel like I've done all this work for nothing, which is a bad thought anyway. I should be doing this for my health. And the thing is, I only feel bad about my weight when women mention it or just flat out ignore me - I always think that's the reason I have no luck. And considering my aversion to social events, I've tried every internet site known to man to meet women. That's all I've been trying for the last decade, and it still hasn't worked. People keep telling me to go outside and meet women, but anywhere I go, be it for work or running errands, women look at me with disgust or derision. Stop me if you've heard that before - I'm sure you have.

But what can you do when the fear of being ridiculed and a legitimate discomfort with public places and in-person social situations are stronger than the allure of any "good time" a square like myself can I have? I don't drink or smoke. I dance my ass off at home, but that's because nobody can see me. I'm very uncomfortable in crowds because I always think somebody's talking about me or looking for a way to make a joke out of me. Randomly approaching women? Forget it. I guess maybe I should just give it up and accept my life as a troll. It's a lot easier than getting my hopes up every once in a while.

RIP Nikki Harris

2009-09-04T23:54:00.003-04:00

In this hi-tech era of social networking and making contact with other humans with your fingertips, it's still a genuine shock to your system to know that you are indeed talking to someone else miles away, that you've never met and may never meet, but it's still interaction. Some of it bad, some of it good, and in rare instances, an extraordinary inspiration.

On a blog entry of mine not quite a year ago, there was this comment that in the middle of the soft approach of my usual readers, one comment, the only time this person would comment, showed compassion for my plight, but a well-meaning kick in the ass to try and get me going:

ohmigod. this has to be the most honest entry i've read in i don't know how long. you are extremely courageous to put that out there.

everyone is afraid of something, luv. that's what makes us human. the difference is that for every person paralyzed by the fear, there is someone who uses that fear as a catalyst for movement.

there are all kinds of big cats out there in fulfilling relationships. why? cuz they value themselves and that's appealing to women.

don't see your size or your lack of relationship experience as something deterring you from happiness. see them as the great things you bring to the table, cuz that's what they really are.

just focus on you and loving yourself. women see through a cat with no confidence who engage in self-loathing and we run for the hills.

meanwhile, there was a yahoo article the other day about the fattest guy in the world marrying his girlfriend.

in other words, love is there for everyone, but it has to begin with self.

That comment was left by Nikki "Indigo" Harris, who passed away last Sunday due to complications from a rare autoimmune disease. I was so taken with her comment that I IMEEJATELY hustled over to her blog to see what she was talking about...and I laughed my ass off for what seemed like hours, reading her thoughts on everything from gaydar to Suge Knight. I also was compelled to think and feel reading her blogs about her dating experiences and such. I never met her and we never interacted much aside from me commenting on her blog every once in a while, but of course hindsight being 20/20, I wish I would've known her like most of the blogosphere knew her.

It sucks that most times the people with so much to offer, so much going for them, people who are really great to know get taken from us so early. Yet by all the accounts of the blog tributes I read, Nikki was Nikki right up until she passed, and I'm sure she's still being Nikki up there.

everyone is afraid of something, luv. that's what makes us human. the difference is that for every person paralyzed by the fear, there is someone who uses that fear as a catalyst for movement.

Right on, Nikki. God Bless You.

My Thoughts

2009-08-30T12:55:00.003-04:00

I've always been afraid of the future, stressed about the present, bitter about the past. As I close in on my 28th birthday, I have a ton of feelings running through me right now as it pertains to my life and which direction it's heading in. I wish I had an answer for all that bothers me, but I'm not in control of that. I know that pretty much all of this is a test that I'm expected to pass, but it doesn't make the fear any less intense.

Will I ever have a decent relationship with a woman? Seems doubtful. Beginning of this month, I found a walking partner (who I've also been intimate with a handful of times), but she wants to start walking earlier in the evening, and because of my job (which calls for mostly evenings) won't allow me to do so, I get the sense this situation is slipping away. I'm almost to the point where I want to give up entirely and brace for a life of loneliness. I get the sense that there is a council or tribunal of women who get together once a month or whatever to meet and figure out how to keep me away. I wish I knew why that was, but it's hurtful and frustrating all the same.

Speaking of my job, I'm becoming less enamored with it by the day. Well not what I do, just where I live and where I work. It'll be two years in October and this fall/winter will definitely be spent ironing out plans for the coming year. Whether it be grad school or a job outside of the profession, I've got to make a change at some point to retain my sanity and begin finding some happiness. I don't want to give up on this profession entirely because it's all I've wanted to do, but what do you do when an industry doesn't love you anymore, and probably never has?

I've always been a proponent of finding joy in the little things because they make everyday life a lot more bearable, but at some point, the expectations and the hassles of the real world begin to wear down on even the most optimistic person, so imagine what it's doing to a pessimist like yours truly? I've never felt so vulnerable in my life, even through a couple of new kid days at school, through flying for the first time three years ago, through leaving home within a week of interviewing for this job two years ago, I somehow survived it all.

Now, with my car (two years of ownership today) acting up, me feeling even more down than before and workplace drama, I don't know if those things will work out.

But I guess that's also God's way of trying to get me out of my comfort zone, which I've probably been in my whole life. Control has always been a big thing with me - I have to be in control all of the time, because when I'm not, I'm always afraid of what can go wrong. Instead, I guess God keeps hitting me over the head with this stuff to get a rise out of me, to let me know that I'm not in control all the time and that I can only play life by ear. Planning everything out never works out that way, I suppose.

I guess I'm just rambling because I haven't blogged in 16 days and I am afraid of what the future holds. I guess at some point I have to lock in my stance and brace for whatever's coming and hope I survive it all. I usually do anyway.

The Final Friendship Post

2009-08-14T17:19:00.003-04:00

Before I begin, let me say that this is my last time sharing my thoughts on this particular subject until I can rectify it because it makes no sense for me to stress about it until I figure out how to fix it, so here goes.

I've said it before, maybe not as eloquently as I would like, but this post will break it down so it can forever be broke - I personally cannot fathom two heterosexual individuals, man and woman to be exact, being just friends. I will gladly tell you why in full force. I'm blogging about this on a Friday, so I know folks won't see it until Sunday afternoon at the earliest, but I'll be grinding back at work on Monday, so I figured I'd do it now.

The concept of platonic friendship was ruined for me my senior year of high school (back story in this here blog entry) and for the last 10 years, whenever a woman has said that word to me in reference to her desired association with me, I feel my skin getting warm, my head starts pounding and my heart beat slows to a crawl. Hopefully that's not the sign of a heart attack or a stroke, but you get the picture. I become so infuriated and offended at the suggestion of friendship because more often than not, it isn't genuine.

Countless friendships with women have either been woefully one-sided or a major letdown because of what I found out shortly (or in a scant few cases, a while) after the "friendship" began. There have been times when I've been the one listening to women talk about everything (topics ranging from family drama to sexual ineptness with other men) and then when I needed an ear, they were MIA or flat-out didn't want to hear it. There's also the deception of saying to me "I'm not looking for ANYTHING with ANYONE right now, but we can be cool," only to see them enter a relationship ("OMG, it just happened!") or they're sexually active ("OMG it just happened!" - Again.).

For me, there is that disingenuous nature, that deception, that recklessness that makes me believe that women just aren't into me no matter what. Being close to a woman but not having any romantic or sexual potential is kinda like putting a buffet in front of a homeless person but saying they can't eat any of it. That's how I see it, and I have reasons for this.

For starters, other men - more attractive, well-off, popular men of reputation - don't have to subscribe to friendship to get what they want. If they do, then maybe it's genuine friendship or the woman is playing hard to get, so they play along. I don't know TOO many guys who willingly enter into platonic friendships for the complete and total definition of what a traditional friendship should be.

Secondly, as a guy who is self-conscious and battling with himself on the regular, the stigma of being friends with a bunch of women doesn't help the battle at all. As stupid as it sounds, I'm afraid of being stereotyped and outcast as being a man who isn't interested in women on a sexual and romantic level. Yeah, I said it was stupid, but it's a real fear. I mean sure, there are worse things to be in society, like a murderer, a racist, or if you're Michael Vick, being in PETA's cross hairs. But I really feel like it emasculates me and trivializes who I am as a man when women say "I only see you as a friend." And I know I'm a straight man with a desire for female companionship, but why does it have to be the most basic, stark, loveless form of companionship? There's nothing heartwarming about hanging out and talking on the phone. There's nothing passionate about random conversation. There's nothing loving about being introduced to others as a woman's "friend."

Thirdly, the sexual aspect of friendship is one that can't be overlooked. People are really engaging in the FWB thing now, and somehow I'm wrong for hoping for that kind of friendship. It seems that only men who are well over six feet tall, muscular and handsome can have sexual wants, needs and desires. A darkskinned overweight dork like me? Forget it. I may as well donate my genitals to science it seems.

Finally, and probably the most important reason I loathe being a woman's friend is because I know deep down in my heart and in the darkest corners of my mind that it will never go anywhere. If I had a dollar for everytime I've heard statements such as "friends make the best lovers" and "you have to start off as friends," Sallie Mae wouldn't be calling and sending mail every two days. It's hurtful. With God's will, I'll be 28 September 25th, and through the internet reunion marvel that is Facebook, I'm finding that people I grew up with are settling into adulthood with spouses and children. What do I have? Not a damn thing. No dating prospects, women hate me because I'm different, and a job with hours that make it difficult to even try looking for women if I wasn't so introverted and distrustful of the gender. All that talk about friendship leading to more has never worked out for me. It didn't when I was a kid and I don't see any reason to believe that things would change now and in the future.

But then there's the backlash that I usually incur from deading these kinds of friendships. More often than not, I'm cast as the bad guy who isn't really a decent person because I'm tired of being alone, undesirable and used. Well let me be clear. I have feelings, I have a desire to be wanted, I don't want to be by myself the rest of my life, I'm not any less of a man because I don't fit the physical description of what's hot. If women are truly interested in being friends, then be a friend, but please don't say it just to string me along. It's only going to add to my struggles, ones I'm hoping to kick before it's too late.

Kitchen Follies...

2009-08-11T11:10:00.002-04:00

As the title suggests, I'm following through on my threat to learn how to cook. I've butchered my last two attempts at spaghetti and meatballs (too little sauce a couple of weeks ago, too much yesterday) and I tried to double up on the last batch of turkey meatloaf and it wasn't done all the way through. Still, I'm making progress in that I promised myself one thing I would try before my 28th birthday (which is September 25th for those who are interested) is learning to cook. I still have a ways to go, but I'm pretty proud of myself for finally putting my kitchen to use.

The first time I successfully made turkey meatloaf was documented in one of my Facebook albums and it was a fun process to go through. It helped me understand why a lot of folks think of cooking as a hobby or even therapy. It's fun to prepare your own food and if it turns out right, chow down with complete satisfaction. And for someone like me who has to have music in order to make anything work at home, it's even better to sing or rap while mixing sauces and boiling noodles.

And as Vdizzle has often pointed out to me, beats spending a heap of change on fast food every day. The sooner I can learn and master new dishes, the better off my savings will be, which will undoubtedly go towards a laptop, seeing as this six-year old Dell desktop of mine is on its Boyz II Men ("Although we've come to the ennnnnnnnnnnnd of the road/Still I can't let goooooooooooo!).

My next meal of interest is porkchops. My mom use to make some damn good porkchops and of course, it's the other white meat so I wouldn't be violating my diet completely. Hopefully in the next couple of weekends I'll have a chance to tackle that. If anybody has any suggestions on how to prepare them or spice them up, let me know. I'm ready to step away from fast food altogether. The time has come for Chris to become King of the Kitchen...okay, maybe not. Just being able to cook my own food is a great step forward altogether.

On Vacation And Nowhere To Go

2009-08-07T14:53:00.002-04:00

Bills, bills, bills. Beyonce'nem made a cute little ditty about them 10 summers ago (I'm feeling extra old again), and bills are the main reason I'm off for a good week and some change with NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOwhere to go. Alas, I'm blessed to even have a vacation as I was afraid to take one last summer. Now I get some serious time to myself to think about my life and what I want to do to change the things I don't like. This post will pretty much be a compilation of random thoughts that should tide you guys over until I'm ready to post about one particular subject.

I've gone back to the basketball court in the mornings. Hopefully I can transition back to walking, but basketball has served as great cardio in the past, so hopefully it works again this time. I started back August 1st (last Saturday) and have done at least an hour every morning. It's nice to see my jumpshot hasn't abandoned me after being idle for 11 months. The shot was cranking from the word go, and with the exception of this morning (slow start, slow finish) I was hitting more than half of my threes. An NBA team needs to invite me to training camp. Not really.

Old School Thursdays on WDASFM.com have helped push me to the end of the week with a smile. One thing I miss about living in Delaware is Philly radio, especially DAS, the contemporary r&b/classic soul station. DAS was a huge part of my life growing up because my mom would NOT allow any other station on unless we had our own radios. I was blessed with one at 11, but out of habit, it STAYED on 105.3.

That's where my appreciation for old school music was shaped and developed and now I am a complete old soul on the music tip. Take yesterday, for instance, as soon as I heard "After all that we've been through..." I SNAPPED. "The Finest" by the SOS Band totally took me back to my really young days when riding around on Saturdays with my mom or my big sis (who got her license at the tail end of 1985) going anywhere and eventually stopping at McDonald's for a Happy Meal was perfection. That's what music is supposed to do. Make you feel good and bring back some dynamite memories. I should've saved this for Soundtrack, huh? LOL

The tragedy in Pennsylvania this past week was sad because three women lost their lives and several others were injured. It's also sad because George Sodini, the madman who perpetrated these atrocities didn't have the onions to just off himself and let women, who he blamed for his lonely lifestyle, go.

Granted, I have the same issues with women, but at the same time, I've been blessed with an indifferent, flippant attitude towards women. None of them are worth jeopardizing my freedom, career and general ability to breathe, so I blog about the crap they put me through in order to keep the sanity. Besides, words can hurt just as much as any amount of violence. I know that better than anybody, considering some of the things women say to me.

I can only giggle at the fact that Cash for Clunkers is working, Ford turned a profit for the first time since the beginning of this decade and layoffs are drastically down. Yes, I know we're not even close to being out of the woods, but it seems like President Obama's recovery plan is working fine, despite the ranting and raving to the contrary.

Baseball Thought: The Phillies will repeat as World Series Champions. And I will be at the parade. Guarantee you that much!

Anybody know anything about the digital tv converter boxes? Leave me your input because I apparently missed out on the coupons and will have to buy one. I'd rather have full-scale cable, but that's not in the budget right now. Maybe things will change down the line.

Not quite seven months since...you know. And that was a disaster. Is somebody trying to tell me something?

Hope you all have a great weekend. I know I will :)

I'm Trying...

2009-07-31T16:31:00.002-04:00

The more the days wear on, the less patience and tact I have. Which is unusual for me, considering I've been more than diplomatic over my 27 (and if it's God's will, soon to be 28) years of living. But it gets old to be attacked, bullied, disrespected, degraded and ganged up on because I'm open about the b.s. I deal with on a day to day basis from women.

If it's one thing I really hate, it's being told how to feel. Last night's conversation with a good friend who I haven't seen in almost nine years didn't help matters either. Going back to my high school days, myself and three friends of mine gave ourselves the nickname of The Untouchables, kinda like our own version of professional wrestling's Four Horsemen.

Darius was Ric Flair, I was kinda/sorta Ole Anderson, Corey (the friend I spoke to last night) was Tully Blanchard and Matt was Arn Anderson. We went everywhere together, did a bunch of stuff together and were as tight as can be until Corey left Delaware for Minnesota to attend college and live with his mom a decade ago. (Jesus, time flies).

Anyway, he's married now with a three-year old daughter and he was so excited, talking about how rewarding family life was and while I was truly happy for him, it dawned on me that it will never be me. I'm too far gone. I'm pretty much sick and tired of women and the games they play, but of course being heterosexual, that leaves me pretty much assed out in terms of companionship.

And of course somehow, that's my fault. It's my fault that women are superficial and shallow, patently obsessed with a man's bank account, physique and facial features. It's my fault that since I don't measure up in those regards, women think it's cool to string me along in false friendships. It's my fault that anywhere I go, women look at me with distain or derision. It's all me. Whatever.

This post won't win me any popularity contests, but I should be used to that by now. I have feelings like any other normal human being, and for them to be hurt time and time again, I'm well within my rights to speak on what's bothering me and what's hurting me.

Like I said in a previous fed-up-with-people-throwing-shade-at-me post, when you put stuff out here on this vast network, you tend to get feedback, unsolicited or otherwise. But when somebody with their own bs tries to throw me under the bus and says I need therapy? That's a line that should have NEVER been crossed. You? Of all people? Bold, aren't we?

That said, it's sad that I have to find out this way that the only person I can truly depend on is myself. I mean other folks are good for sharing good conversation and laughs with, but when it comes to my personal life and struggles related to it, I'm better off fighting that battle alone and in silence. And that's my trust in humanity is largely shattered. People that you think care about you and your well-being, that should want you to really get better and find happiness, really don't care at all. Unless it's jokes and humor, which apparently I need to be 24/7 for people to even want to talk to me.

And I'm wrong for saying what's on my mind this blatantly, but holding it in would only make things worse. So if anybody's offended, I'm sorry, but when has anyone ever apologized to me?

It's Okay To Be You

2009-07-19T08:54:00.004-04:00

When people ask me if I'm happy with myself, my standard reply has been anything but a yes or no answer.

"I know who I am."

Most people see through that and keep pressing me for the real answer they want, but I refuse to give answers I still come face to face with the fact that while I know who I am and what I am, I hate it because it doesn't make me popular with women. I think I'm starting to break out of that finally and it makes day to day life so much easier.

I've always viewed my physical appearance, my personality, my voice, my interests, etc., as being troublesome rather than something to be proud of and something to stand up for. I've let far too many outside opinions affect how I see myself (yeah, that's me - master of the obvious!). Now, I find myself not caring.

If I want to sing "You are the sunshine of my life," as it's playing in BJ's Wholesale club, then I will be singing along as I go down the cereal aisle. If I see a fly classic car at the gas station, I might chat up the owner and compliment the ride. If I want to watch the same 10-15 minutes of the Philadelphia Flyers' 40th anniversary DVD and skate around my living room with the broom as my hockey stick - yep, you guessed it - I'll do just that.

I think part of this awakening is I've grown tired of trying to fit everybody's perception of what I should be. I don't look at myself as being special because I tend to do this a little different from the norm, but I'm not going to let people get away with bashing me because of it. Then again, that's the part I need to master - who cares what everyone else thinks? I know who I am, and now I'm glad to be on the road to the point where I'll be able to say with conviction and happiness that I like who I am.

Because I'm a goofball of epic proportions...

2009-07-15T20:35:00.000-04:00

Silly poetry about Softball Crush

Ode to women's softball diva

Hey chocolate girl in them tight softball pants
A brother wants to get closer so we can do the forbidden dance
When you went around second, that outstanding onion was switching so glorious
Almost had me cockeyed like the late great Notorious
You cover centerfield so nicely, snatching balls out of mid-air
I wonder if you can catch a good stroke from the back as I pull on your weave hair
Manager tells me your spoken for, but that can't stop me from dreamin'
You'll be yelling "go for home daddy" while that puddykitten is creamin'
I go to games you play when I don't even have to work.
Why? Well, that's just to watch you work.

Goodbyes Tug At The Heartstrings....

2009-07-10T17:51:00.002-04:00

Michael Joseph Jackson knew how to put on a show in life and in death. Of course, his memorial service was held Tuesday in Los Angeles and in between varied work-related tasks, my eyes were glued to the screen as people from all walks of life, all levels of fame, all races/ethnicity, gender, whatever came to say goodbye to the King of Pop.

There were great speeches, like Al Sharpton's "Thank ya Michael," which included the realest of the real statements - "I want to say to his three kids, wasn't nothin strange about your daddy - It was strange what he had to deal with." And there was comedy, as basketball great/black business genius Magic Johnson shared a story about meeting with Mike to be in the "Remember The Time" video and while Magic tried to accomodate the host and order grilled chicken from the chef, the chef bought MJ a bucket of KFC.

There were performances of course, my favorite was John Mayer's phenomenal job playing Human Nature on guitar. Many people felt Usher's performance, including touching Mike's casket, was a bit overdone, but I'll give Usher the benefit of the doubt as he claims Michael as a HUGE influence on his life and career.

However, the most touching and poignant moment came at the service's conclusion when Michael's 11 year-old daughter, Paris Katherine, fought off incredible grief to step to the mic. As soon as I saw Janet let Paris step in front of her to get to the mic, my eyes started stinging and I said to myself "oh my God, the baby's going to speak..."

Three years ago tomorrow marks the day we buried my grandmother, the family patriarch, the cussword queen, the one who taught us all how to cook, the one who did her best to help raise her youngest daughter's two rambunctious kids as she went out into the world of social work to make a living for us. I remember when Grandma passed, July 4th and the day was just incredibly hollow. I just remember that feeling of loss, and even though she and I were close, I literally wanted nothing to do with the funeral.

In fact, my mom and a few cousins had a shouting match with me because I was so against being a pallbearer. I didn't even want my name mentioned as a devoted grandchild, because even though I was, I knew how my family tended to act, and in the wake of losing her, I didn't want to go to jail for curbstomping somebody. I eventually conceded to being a pallbearer, but we all went in the obit, unnamed, as special grandchildren. However, I had to say my goodbyes privately. I regret not asking to at least speak for a few minutes at her service now because even though she's still watching over me, and visits me in my dreams, I never got to tell the immediate world how much she meant to me.

...Paris got her opportunity, and as hurt and sad and fidgety as she was, she made the most of that opportunity. She let the world know that her daddy was the best daddy anyone could ever imagine and that she loved him so much. Lost in all of the drama of Mike's later years, people forgot that he did indeed raise three (at least on the surface) normal, well-adjusted everyday children. By the time she flung her little grief-stricken self into Auntie Janet's waiting arms, I was a teary-eyed mess.

Whether they are Michael Jackson's biological children is not up for debate, nor is the fact of who rallied around those kids. Those children, however they came to be, are card-carrying members of the Jackson family, and that's where they belong - with Mike's eight brothers and sisters and their loving grandmother (I refuse to even give Joe Jackson the time of day in this blog), not with Debbie Rowe, who only wants custody after Mike cut her simple self out of his will.

So with that said, it was a fitting send-off to a man who redefined music and entertainment, but did so with a broken, childhood-deprived heart. Wherever Mike's spirit is now, I hope he realizes how many lives he touched, how many people loved him, and how his wish to make the world a better place is coming true slowly but surely. Berry Gordy said it best, the King of Pop is no longer good enough. RIP to the Greatest Entertainer Who Ever Lived.

Just Another Thought

2009-07-05T18:18:00.002-04:00

One thing about me is that if I see or feel something is wrong, I will speak up on it. I don't know any other way. It's been passed down from generation to generation - My grandfather (though I never met the man, he died eight years before I was born), his children (my mom included) and now me, we all tend to speak our minds and let the cards fall where they may. This particular blog is no different.

I preface this entry with that intro as a disclaimer: I'm a grown-ass man, dawg. Job, bills, stress, maybe even a gray hair, the whole nine. And while it is kinda goofy that I do have enough time to let things get to me as much as they do, that fact gives NO ONE the right to pile on with some foolishness. Then again, I also take responsibility for that, because quite frankly there are some folks you just canNOT and SHOULD NOT confide in. It's kinda like a crackhead going to a meth addict for tips on quitting cold turkey - makes no sense whatsoever.

I realize that while I still have some growing to do and that a lot of my troubles in life ( be they professional, personal and individual) I've brought on myself, there's no way I'm going to stand for people dragging my name through the mud or doing and saying dumb stuff to get a rise out of me. Now I realize the easiest way would be to follow the examples of Ghandi and Dr. King and just turn the other cheek, but folks have got me worked up to Huey/Stokely/George/Malcolm levels.

I am Chris. You saw the entry. I have my good and my bad, my ups and downs, my highs and lows, peaks and valleys, orgasms and one-hitter-quitters. That's what life is, nothing is perfect, and to quote Allen Iverson, "everything don't be peaches and cream all the time." Aware that I should be grateful and thankful for whatever little good is in my life right now, I still have every right to question why I get treated the way I do and why certain folks seem to think it's okay to pile on and kick me while I'm down.

If certain folks would think and analyze critically and not continue to push their bra-burning bullshit agenda, they would know that I never claimed to be a sweet and innocent cherub picking dandelions to give to the prettiest girl in school. I stopped claiming nice guy status at 21, it made no sense to me because I knew it wasn't true. I wasn't an evil individual, but I knew I'd have good and bad days and hellacious mood swings, so I embraced them. Yet and still, I know my good points, and they do outweigh the bad, even if it's by a scant margin.

Do I complain a lot? Hell yes, and will continue to do so as long as women continue to shove shit up my nostrils and try to convince me it's Twizzlers Pull N' Peel. I also know that it's going to take an extraordinary effort on my part to get this thing turned around, and I know it won't entail therapy like some anonymous douchebag has suggested. Oh yeah, you. From the same IP address in New York City. You commented on the blog I aired you out on. Anonymous as usual.

So here's your chance to introduce yourself to the world. State your name and why you feel it's important to try and embarrass and insult someone you don't even know by suggesting they be carted off to the looney bin. Oh yeah, that's right - you won't do that. It's much safer to have that yellow streak going up and down your back than owning up to your bold comments with a name and a reason.

For those who read my blog faithfully and comment faithfully, please don't think this is about you, because it's not. I realize that the majority of people and women I talk to are geuninely good folks with common sense who really care about me and if I can get things right and be happy. But for the few this post is directed to, you can take it how you want, doesn't matter to me. Just know that if and when I do break through and find happiness, it won't be any thanks to you.

Signed,

Not-so-nice-guy.

June ends...

2009-06-30T17:14:00.002-04:00

Good grief, it seemed like June just got here, now Independence Day weekend is literally just around corner. Time flies when you're having fun...I guess.

I really plan on blogging about our departed King of Pop, but that's going on my music blog, which I hope you guys will bookmark (http://cjwriterssoundtrack.blogspot.com). I'll just say right here that his death is probably the biggest of my generation. At about 2 1/2 years old, I was too young to remember when Marvin Gaye was murdered by his father, but much like the wind was taken out of my elders' sails when Marvin was killed, we feel the same way about Michael Jackson. He will truly be missed and his gift to us, his talent and his all around skills, will forever be a part of us and this Earth as long as humans are around.

I'm actually looking forward to getting a converter box so I can watch football and baseball on FOX, ABC, NBC and CBS this fall here at my house instead of sitting in the office after hours and on weekends if I want to catch something major. I need to apply for a coupon, but my immediate super gave me one of hers, and I just don't feel like explaining how I got it.

Twitter is an addiction. Follow me! http://twitter.com/CJStarchild.

I'm still rather lonely down here and really can't do anything about it, which sucks. I was reminded of something. While I do seek out advice, I do leave myself open sometimes for some undue criticism and I really don't have to deal with it, considering some of the sources. I am thankful for those who know what they're talking about, but I really need to weed out the ones that don't, SOONER rather than later.

Anybody have anything popping for this weekend? I DO! Laundry and DVDs. You're welcome to keep me company via my new addiction or AIM.

I think this is my 85th day of 600 sit-ups, which is mind boggling. Somehow, some way, I manage to get them all in, either before midnight or early in the morning when I get up. Either way I'm feeling a lot better and once I get walking back, things are going to be great.

And that's all I got, LOL...hope everybody's doing good.

Just a thought...

2009-06-23T12:54:00.002-04:00

I know, I know, it's the internet. There is some small degree of mystery when you log on and leave comments, it beats saying a lot of things aloud and/or in person. But for me? The last few entries, I've gotten some really bold-ass comments in anonymous form and it's irritating to me. Again, this is my space on the web, a place where anything goes as far as opinion, and I understand that. But if you're going to snidely suggest that I go seek help like I'm some kind of a lunatic, then have then have the heart to put a name behind your comment. This goes against me trying not to care what people say or think about me, but the disrespect just touched a nerve with me today.

To the smart ass from New York with free air flowing between their legs from the last entry: If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you will know that I have tried the internet as far as hooking up - in fact, that's the only way I've been able to converse with women. And it hasn't worked out for me, hence these blog posts. As far as therapy, it sure takes a lot of courage to pop fly about somebody you don't even know, without a name attached at that. Grow a set or grow up.

/End Rant

Sex selections, Or "Why Chris doesn't get it as much as he'd like..."

2009-06-18T08:59:00.003-04:00

In spite of an insane start to it, I'm having a pretty good week, so let me say that this post is not fueled by anger or bitterness, just the reflective and honest spirit I've been blessed with.

I've noticed among the news feed on my Facebook homepage recently that people are really re-examining how they feel about sex these days. A lot of people are wondering if it's still cool to be casual, being cautious about hook-ups, or going extreme (quitting hook-ups altogether or going full steam ahead). You'll see status updates about "is this cool?" "Can it still be done?" "Why/how do people choose the partners they chose?" It's made for some very interesting reading, and of course, self-evaluation and reflecting.

So I've been thinking: Why am I such a horndog? Why do I say "sex or GTFO?" Do I even care? Why won't women give me what I think I want? Well, here goes...

I won't underestimate adult entertainment as part of my state of mind when it comes to sex, but my real problem lies in what my feelings are as far as a true statement of caring, loving, liking and affection goes. It's probably the weakest, pettiest, most childish, immature, lame and sorry-ass excuse out there for any guy, let alone a grown man in his late 20s, to think about, but it's my reasoning all the unfortunate same: "If women liked me, they'd sleep with me."

Yeah, I said it. I've said it to countless women before, more than 98 percent of whom have either laughed themselves into oblivion or were visibly hurt by that statement. It happens. The reason why I use it is simple, but two-pronged.

Number One: From my observation, the better a guy looks, the easier it is for a woman to fall. The majority of women that have shot me down have cited my physical appearance as a reason they wouldn't even talk to me, much less get wild with me. Those more attractive cats, more often than not, use their looks as the bra-strap snapper, the panty dropper, and really, I don't fault those guys for that. Zora Neale Hurston once said "Those who aint got it can't show it, those that got it can't hide it." So when not-so-tall, kinda dark, heavyset, proper-sounding me comes along and wants more than just a "church hug," I'm usually met with derision and shocked attitudes. Which brings me to Number Two:

I don't feel like I offer much. Even though I did the whole Bad Chris/Good Chris entry a few weeks ago, I still feel like the things that supposedly draw women to men are not good enough because I don't have the physique and/or the face to go with them. Women still want "Tupac with a degree," to quote one woman that was on the Tyra show a while back. The degree part I have. Pac or any other reasonably sought-after celeb type I will never be. People can swear up and down that looks don't matter, but unless your blind, that's simply not true. No one ever looks at an unattractive person and says "damn, I want to see what they're about."

On to the caring part, I've met women who have wanted to start off as friends only to pursue affection and intimacy in another man's arms, and that's what bothers me the most. The conversation usually goes something like this:

"Well, you're smart, funny, nice, so let's be friends and see what develops. Friends become lovers." WRONG. Friends become me sitting at home alone while guys with better bodies and facial structures have women bent over and spread wide. Part of it is my inability to have any semblance of a patient nature. If I don't get what I want, when I want? I've written you off. That happened like three times in the past six days alone! I guess the whole building thing is coming back to haunt me.

I once said that guys are like sports general managers: You have guys who are patient, willing to build up to success, while a lot of GMs feel the need to win right away. I've fallen into the latter category and it's really bothering me that I'm not getting the results I want.

Finally, what is it about sex that has corrupted my line of thinking? Well...I don't get as much as I want. I didn't go there until after high school and after I got started, it became something that I wanted as much as possible. So I've stepped to just about every woman (save for a few real friends) with the intention of getting it in. It hasn't worked but a handful of times, hence my disgust. I wish I could explain what it is about the act that has me feeling the way I do. It's a feeling of being wanted, being lusted after, being sought, being good enough for a woman to want to give her body to you. I guess I just explained it.

Either way, I'm just trying to figure out where I am and if I need to change anything in this respect. I'm always open for suggestions, so feel free to speak your peace.

Pet Names and the thoughts they inspire....

2009-06-04T19:56:00.003-04:00

If anyone listens to mainstream urban radio, then you know where this entry is coming from, so it's not totally out of left field, LOL...

Twista's back in our public conscience (not only because he allegedly knocked up porn star Pinky), with his new single bumping on the radio, called "Daddy." Now there was a time, at least in my mind, where that was totally acceptable, for a woman to call her man or *ahem* FWB that name. However, seven years ago a video surfaced that not only confirmed my suspicions about R. Kelly being a dirty dog, but singlehandedly ruined a pretty good pet name. I'm sure we all know the reason why.

On a related note, I remember being extremely upset in junior high and high school because among all the other insults I got thrown my way, the emergence of the Notorious B.I.G. as rap's next big thing got "Biggie" thrown my way more times than I can count. Instead of embracing it and turning it into a positive like Big did ("hearthrob never/black and ugly as ever/however, I stay coochie down to the socks...") I ran from it. Now, I find myself wearing shirts around the house with "Big" all over them. "Big Dog," "Big Daddy," etc., so it seems that I can finally quote the hook with confidence and not be ashamed anymore - ladies, "I love it when ya call me Big Poppa!"

In all seriousness, the power of pet names can never be understated. More often than not, it's something that keeps a relationship fresh and passionate, no matter how silly the name. Pet names give personality and an identity to that special person in your life, and it's something the two of you can share. For me, I haven't had that experience for the most part, but I can tell you, I'm a sucker for the classics. If a woman calls me "honey," "sweetie," "baby," or even "boo," I'm pretty much under the spell.

"Boo, you think can we rob a bank?"
"Hell yeah girl, where's my gun?!" Relax folks, I don't own a gun, nor am I interested in doing so.

"Sweetie, can you go get that pitbull off our yard?"
"I grab a dog, and I choke him! All day long my foot up a dog's ass, just BANG BANG BANG up his ass! That's my PLEA-SHAH!"

"Baby, I know you haven't eaten Macaroni and Cheese since 1986, but can you try mine, please?"
*AAAAAARGH NOMNOMNOMYUMYUMYUM!*

Now, before you go thinking "aww hell, Chris is a simp," I am NOT that weak for affection from the fairer sex. This is the kind of stuff reserved for a true relationship, not a girl just trying to get favors from the kid. There's something comforting, soothing, erotic, passionate, sensual about a woman who cares about her man and calls him those things with sincere feeling behind it.

It's one of the most powerful things a woman can possess - the power of sweet talk. I won't dare call it a lost art, but I will say part of the problem in relationships is that folks can't be sweet to each other anymore. It's easier to just talk at someone rather than talking to them. Giving nicknames and pet names to your significant other makes them feel like they are special to you and will do anything for you within reason because they know you'll appreciate it. Same goes for us, fellas. There's nothing soft or effeminate about calling your lady those names. Of course, babygirl's a plus in that situation because women LOVE it. When I figure out why, I'll get back to you, LOL...

So don't be afraid of the pet name. Create it, embrace it and enjoy it. And don't call me "Daddy." UGH.

To be young, targeted and black, sho'nuff ain't where it's at...

2009-05-31T18:02:00.003-04:00

Oh, how sadly mistaken was I. I might be pegged as a foolish dreamer, to quote Lionel in his Commodores days, but through my tears of joy and feeling of accomplishment that November 4, 2008 brought, I figured that maybe, JUST maybe me and other black men would cease to be looked at as criminals-in-training, waiting for our opportunity to pounce on innocent and defenseless victims as we walk down streets or peruse grocery store aisles. Yep, silly me. As if the Bonnie Sweeten caper wasn't aggravating enough, a rookie cop was shot dead in Harlem recently by one of his own teammates, so to speak. The rookie, a brother of course, was off duty but chasing after a suspect when the shooter (do you even have to ask his ethnic background?) shot and killed him, mistaking him for a criminal. Riiiiiiiight.

Okay, don't think of me as naive or blind to facts, but damn, when are we as Black men going to stop being the prime targets for real and the faces of domestic terror? Granted, as a native of one of Wilmington, DE's toughest neighborhoods (take my word for it, East Side is a wild one), I'm familiar with having your head on a swivel and securing your own safety with common sense. Yet and still, that doesn't make these random acts of violence and lying on us anymore justifiable. It's unwarranted, absurd and reduces me using the pouty childhood term unfair.

One incident that will always stick with me was my junior year of high school when late one Friday night, I reluctantly accompanied my mother to a grocery store in another part of town, no better than our own. As I wandered through the aisles, waiting on Mom to finish up whatever shopping she was doing, I realized I was running out of Denorex shampoo. I hustled over to that aisle, grabbed a bottle and walked away to find mom and let her know that I needed shampoo. Little did I know that a store manager was right on my ass.

At 5'8 and 260 pounds then, I guess I looked the part of a thief in the physical sense, but my bummy choice of light gray sweatpants and a San Diego Chargers T-shirt with bright yellow writing on it wasn't exactly camoflauge material. Still that didn't stop the manager from asking "do you mind telling me what you're doing with that shampoo?" Just then my mom turned the corner and here I was, 16 years old, insulted, embarrassed and stunned all in one turn, trying to explain to this goof that I was planning on giving it to my mom so she could pay for it at checkout. Of course mom hit the roof and we left everything there and walked out while other patrons swarmed the manager with angry words.

My mom was steamed but I was laughing it off like "Mom, it's over." Even if it was a short experience, it's one that has stayed with me for the better part of 11 years.

Those feelings of shame, embarrassment and hurt all come flooding back whenever I hear about any person of color wrongly accused of crimes against - let's keep it 100 - White people. Jennifer Wilbanks a.k.a "The Runaway Bride", the unsolved Natalee Holloway disappearance to this recent disappearing act. It's always something, is it not? I take solace in knowing that my ancestors have gone through it all so that we could walk down the street freely. And it brings me to one of my favorite essays, Black Men in Public Space by Brent Staples. In 1986, Staples wrote an essay about the perils of being a black man in public, and I didn't discover it until I was 18 years old. It was an entertaining and realistic view of the fears we as Black men face, knowing that white folks lock their doors quicker and women clutch their purses a bit tighter when they see us. Frustrating to say the least. And while there is a crime epidemic going on, why blame all of us when there are only a few that are terrorizing innocent people? Simple. It's been easier to stereotype than it is to learn and be open-minded. And innocent black men suffer.

I wish I could offer a solution, but I can't. No one knows what it will take for things to change, but I'll continue to be careful and advise all brothers to do the same, before we become the next ones blamed for the fear white people have of us.

Blame It On Me...

2009-05-21T09:30:00.002-04:00

I've noticed a very interesting development over the last few weeks and months as I prepare physically, mentally and emotionally to make some serious changes in my life. My B.S. tolerance, which was lower than Bush's approval ratings to begin with, has all but VANISHED. I've always had the reputation of being impatient, one who flies off the handle so to speak. Now, my short fuse is just a "sh..."

I really can't make time for people or situations that only serve to make me even more stressed and p.o'd than I usually am. That goes back to it really being nothing for me to just cut short any associations or dealings I may have had with former acquaintances. I used to feel bad about it to a degree, especially this week when I had to cut somebody else loose. However, something hit me last night before I fell asleep - only I can control how I feel from day to day, NOT anyone else. I know that whatever drama I have with this person or that person, or whatever stress comes from this situation or that situation, I've done it to myself.

There's really no reason for me to continue to get myself into these situations that I don't like and that I don't benefit from, hoping that by some magic occurence in the stars that it will eventually work out in my favor. You would think after about 10, 11 years of platonic friendships that I would KNOW that most of these friendships will NOT make it past that stage (I've commented on that whole friends make the best lovers deal before, but maybe I'll do a full post at some point).

I honestly would cringe whenever I would say things like "I have enough 'friends'" or "If I looked like this that and the other, you'd want to be more than friends." I tricked myself into thinking that it was okay to settle for less than what I want. Can't have that happening anymore. I'm going on 28, and I need to establish how I'm going to live my life and what's going to make me happy. I've always felt like I was so bad off that I should accept anything I could get in terms of social interaction, mainly because I didn't believe I was good enough to go for what I want.

This isn't to say that all of my friendships with women have been bad, because I must admit I have some very good solid friendships with women that I wouldn't risk destroying because of weak moments of arousal or a craving for some affection. Those women know who they are and this post is not directed to them, and they know that.

What it boils down to is Chris has to understand that while pursuing physical pleasure, he can't be pissed that women won't give it to him on sight, because real talk, Chris doesn't have THAT look. Also, if I want a real relationship, it takes time to build, and yes, it takes at some sort of connection.

I can't blame anyone else for the way my life, socially anyway, has gone. I can only blame myself and do my best to fix it.

Sunday Thoughts

2009-05-17T11:33:00.002-04:00

It's starting to get hot, and I don't have summer clothes the first. I covered a softball tournament yesterday with a gray polo and black jeans on. Y'all, I was sweating like R. Kelly at a debutante ball. I really need to save some money just for clothes, seeing as most of my money is going to go to a very important situation (can't talk about it too openly, there are spies, you know? lol) that needs to be taken care of by the end of July.

I'm a little annoyed at the scrutiny our first lady Michelle Obama is being subjected to. Iman, who was last seen kissing Michael Jackson before his 956th nose job in the Remember the Time video, said that Barack's better half was "No great beauty." She's entitled to her opinion, but something I saw on a message board ticked me off when brothers were saying that she wasn't anything to get excited over.

Now, as much as we (yes, I include myself in the group) complain about the lack of good women out here, are we really going to judge a woman of Mrs. Obama's credentials, qualities and values on some silly standard of physical appearance? Whatever. If women like Michelle Obama were in great number, we'd all be going to the bathroom on ourselves to get five minutes of their time. Oh well, that's why the Prez put a ring on it...and they're going to revive Black Love, one photo op at a time. And for the record, I see nothing wrong with a 6-foot-tall black woman as stylish and well-put together as Mrs. Obama is - I think she's fine, literally and figuratively.

Speaking of complaints about women, I'm in the middle of what I call "The Sherman Klump/Buddy Love internet experiment." Laugh if you must, but I've been on BlackPlanet for nine years, which is where many, if not all of my mishaps with women occur. I've jokingly said before I would make a false page, just to see what would occur.

I took about 100 pounds or so off my weight, added four inches in height, threw in some North Jersey slang in my messages, and within six hours, four women wanted to talk to me on the phone, and another said "stop the small talk - do you want to [hook up] or what?" It's hilarious and sad at the same time. Although I did use a well-worn internet site as a test case, it proves to some measure that my feelings of women being all about physical appearance and slanted in their views of how a man should talk, think and act are indeed not that far off.

I need a doctor's office scale. You know, the ones with the sliding columns? I last weighed myself February 6th at the local college, and I was at 316 pounds, which was before I started doing 600 sit-ups a day and REALLY turned on the jets in terms of eating normally and healthy. I'm so desperate to see where I am number-wise, it's ridiculous. But by the loose feeling in my clothes and the speed with which I walk (actually jogging now), I'd like to think I'm doing quite well.

I wish I would rain all spring and throughout the first half of summer. Yeah, I said it. It would make things simpler for me as I start moving to the next phase in my life, but it's never that easy. It's not supposed to be anyway. So I'll just suck it up to the best of my ability and try to find other ways to keep myself happy and focused until I'm ready to take care of business for real.

President Obama needs to ban the Stanky Leg. That is all.

Y'all remember the jailbait waitress? Why is she halfway flirting with a brother now? Oh, the hilarity. If she were indeed over 18, I wouldn't be complaining, but I guess that's pretty much the story of my life. I feel more comfortable talking to females I can't have (and considering I'm still on BlackPlanet, women I SHOULDN'T be dealing with at all), instead of approaching women who have it together. Ugh.

A dog (might've been a pit, not sure) stared at me yesterday through the tops of his eyes with his head low and I literally got a chill up and down my spine. Same thing happened to me Mother's Day when I returned from Wilmington (spending time with family and friends was GREAT, by the way) and there was this cat sitting on top of the community mailbox and I swore the mangy bastard's eyes GLOWED. This is why a brother is SO not "One with nature."

Hope everyone has a great week coming up!

Hi, my name is Chris and...

2009-05-13T09:29:00.003-04:00

In order for me to move on and live a happy life, I think I'm just going to list all the negatives and positives about myself and maybe some goals at the end. You guys can comment if you like, I'm just making this list so I know what I have to do.

Negatives:

Misogynistic
Bad Attitude
Easily Annoyed
Easily Frustrated
Thinks too hard
Acts irrationally from time to time
A real ass if I don't get my way
Too much emphasis on sex
Lazy (when it comes to certain things, like meeting people in public)
Selfish to a degree
Self-Centered
Lacking focus
Mean-spirited occasionally

Positives:

Intelligent
Good Sense of Humor
Good Conversation
Good Listener
Ambitious
Pretty Good Writer...o.k., DAMN Good writer.
Caring (sometimes)
Open-minded
Student of life
Motivated
Big on Family and Friends
Supportive
I try my best not to judge
I live my life my way

So the good outweighs the bad...BARELY, lol...but it's there. The reason I'm doing this is because I need to be honest with myself and maybe that will help me understand why my personal life is non-existent and why women just never seem to want anything to do with me. Professionally, I've got my irons in the fire and I'm gonna be alright with that, but it's no fun to be alone or to be the guy that women avoid like the plague.

I've heard rumors about "he's cute, but he's got some issues he needs to work out," and that literally threw me for a loop. You've could've bowled me over with a single grain of rice.

So I guess what I want to do is, if not totally eliminate them, cut down on the negatives and phase them out of my life so I can become a better me and hopefully figure out the best course of action when it comes to dealing with women. As always, I'm open for suggestions, so feel free to drop them in the comments :)

And Now, More Poetry From Chris

2009-05-03T20:11:00.001-04:00

State of Mind, State of Heart, State of Soul

Don't ask me how I feel if you don't want to know
That's how I've operated for about 10 years or so
But what happens when that feeling gets to be something even you can't stand?
When your own misery and annoyance now go hand in hand?
You want a change, but you're not sure how to start
You just know you're tired of a troubled, lonely heart
I guess that's why they say loneliness is a state of mind
But it's also the state of my heart and soul
and I'll be damned if it isn't getting old
The tired routine of work and home is just that
Tired like grocery stores overrun with spoiled brats
Imprisoned by my own past, I guess I can share some of the blame
But I still wish for one woman to prove to me they're not all the same
"Faith without works is dead" is what The Almighty says
So I guess I need to work on my faith to get ahead
Faith that I am worthy, faith that there are many instead of few
Faith that the some day I'll have a love made for just us two
I'm scared, but I'm ready
Taking the steps towards happiness has never been more necessary
This state of heart, state of mind, state of soul is getting to be old
It's up to me now to find the courage to step out of my shell and take on what the future holds

Ten Interesting Things for Tuesday Afternoon Thoughts

2009-04-21T15:35:00.005-04:00

I'm honestly thinking about hitting the reset button on this career thing. I'm not necessarily happy here, but I do cherish my solo living and general overall freedom. If I was head back to mom's it would HAVE to be temporary or I'd go crazy, or even worse, find a roommate *shudders* What's the point of being unhappy and being somewhere you don't want to be long term? Somebody let me know.

If you haven't added me on facebook yet, here's your chance.... knock yourselves out.

I'm up to 600 sit-ups a day now, and hopefully at the end of this week, I'll be back out on the track in the mornings. The spring and summer is usually when I kick it into high gear, and now that I've survived winter, LOSING weight instead of gaining it, sky's the limit. I'm ready to roll.

I was all set for a full afternoon of relaxation before my assignment tonight...until I realized I left my cell phone at the office. DAMN! Gotta go back...probably will soon as I finish this post.

I get the feeling that women hold some secret meeting at least once a month, figuring out ways how to keep me down and dog me out. I'm quite sure of it actually, short of getting my hands on a meeting docket.

Also, women only want to "get to know" men who they have no physical interest in. It pays to be 6-foot-something, 180 pounds, lightskinned with some kinda lock or braid action. Then you can just smash the homie til your heart's content, without jumping through hoops of fire to get to that point.

I've had my car for just about 20 months, and aside from replacing the axle back in February, everything's good on it *knock on wood* Just have to keep the fluids and oil changes coming.

I love video blogging...sadly I forgot about one video on my camera that will never see the light of day. Matter of fact *grabs camera, deletes it*...I MAY wanna run for office someday, you never know.

I really am going to take next weekend and just cook like I ain't got anything else to do. Better front-load and back-load my work schedule now.

Shout out to my buddy Whit, who STAY late on commenting on my stuff, but she always has a good one, so it's all good. PS, I put the hit counter up for a reason. I see y'all lurking out there America. Leave some comments, please, LOL

I'm Video Blogging...

2009-04-16T03:04:00.001-04:00

Tell me what you guys think after you watch this.

My Way

2009-04-03T19:34:00.003-04:00

I really get nervous when I post about my deepest thoughts and feelings, not because I feel weird in expressing them, but I'm always wary of offending someone who may stumble across this blog. Yet as I've done in the past in will continue to do, I'll always be honest and truthful about what I'm thinking and/or feeling.

I'm five months and three weeks away from turning 28, which means this quarter-life crisis thing is hopefully at its zenith and will be calming down in the near future. The quarter-life crisis, as a lot of us well know, deals with thoughts of the future - what are we doing professionally, personally, will we have time to reach our goals, and if we don't, well...what becomes of us spiritually?

Those type of things weight heavily on my mind, and every time I end up talking to my grandmother in my dreams (which happens often), I feel like there is something after this life...but I'm not certain. It scares me to no end, but as long as I wake up in the morning, I guess I feel alright. That said, I've found that in my loner-like nature, I can only depend on me for my happiness. I really haven't stressed much about women in weeks, nor have I felt really bad about myself.

The 500 sit-ups I complete daily, along with other little spurts of joy and laughter have made me understand that I really need to be in tune with Chris before I can go out in the world and seek comfort and caring in the arms of a woman. I still get lonely and fearful living by myself, but I just have learned to trust God and whatever happens as far as my physical and spiritual life, I have to accept that.

That bit of peace has allowed me to be myself a bit more freely, not much, but just enough to where I can stand to look at myself in the mirror sometimes. Of course I still have moments where I wish I was over 6 feet tall, a few shades lighter and muscular (or skinny), but those moments don't come as often as they used to. That's part of the healing process, to know that you CAN'T be somebody else, you can only be who you are. I still think it's easier being what women view as acceptable physically, but, in I guess a spiteful sort of way, I've learned that women who can't accept me for who I am are women that I really can't worry about. You would think with all the women who've shot me down having problems with their choices of men is a source of pride and revenge for me. Some days it is, other days it's "come on Chris, grow up."

I still find myself with the hair trigger as far as distancing myself from people, mainly because while my sense of self is improving, my short patience is not. I really find it disingenuous to be friends with people who really aren't friends. It seems like more or less in my case, those "friends" women who don't want anything to do with me beyond conversation when they're bored. I guess I could take the blame for not being exciting enough for them to want anything more than time-passing conversation, but I can also take the initiative to just not be bothered and force them to leave me alone or at least ask me why (the latter usually happens).

I really find myself fighting with my bristling attitude whenever the question is posed - "Do I really want to say 'no one gives a damn about your relationship with Mr. Wonderful' or whatever?" "Why call her a superficial and shallow slut? It's only going to make the situation worse." "You know you don't want to hear about her sex life, so why even entertain it?" It's a mess. But a mess I'm working on fixing.

I guess this Friday night ramble is just my way of thinking out loud so all who read this blog can understand that I am working to improve myself, and I still have some areas to work on. But I'm beginning to be fine with who I am, and that's what really matters.

Friday Morning Thoughts

2009-03-27T08:42:00.002-04:00

- The weight loss stuff is going fairly well, although I haven't stepped on a scale since early February. The trick is not to get caught up in numbers, but paying attention to how my clothes fit and my energy level is how I do it. Then when I see the number, I can be pleasantly surprised or aware that I have more work to do instead of letting it depress me.

- Thanks to Missouri for blowing up my bracket. Death to the Tigers!

- For someone who once was invited to a swinger's party (don't judge me), I haven't been thinking about sex nearly as much as I have before, and that concerns me. I guess I've been really on my hustle with this diet and exercise as well as work. Really, that's how it's supposed to be. But I miss being a horndog.

- RIP John Hope Franklin, a scholar and a gentleman, as well as one of the true black intellectuals of the post-Civil War era. I'm so glad you got to see Barack Obama become our president.

- Can you pay my bills, can you pay my telephone bills, can you pay my automo-bills? Being grown is not fun these days. I'm definitely thinking about scaling back my house phone or just cutting it off completely. Do I still need a phone line for DSL? I'm sure someone can answer this for me.

- I'm planning a slight escape in about three weeks. How do I plan to spend that Saturday, you ask? In Dover, Delaware watching the Red-White spring football game at DSU! I sure know how to party, right?

- I'm thinking of trying my hand at turkey meatloaf this weekend. It depends on whether I'm too lazy to get the stuff I need for it from BJ's.

- It's tough living in Maryland's neitherworld. You hear guys raving about these bad ass chicks in Montgomery, PG, Howard County and DC...and you're stuck in St. Mary's County with Roseanne Barr look-a-likes and the few black women like to play more games than Parker Brothers. Jesus be a new gig in a sizeable city with Negro population.

- Team Lil Rounds! I've watched maybe 15 minutes of American Idol, and the 24-year old married (lucky mofo her husband is) mother of three from Memphis Tenn-a-key is doing her thing. She's got the big voice to deliver the songs and the perfect name - She is Lil, but she got them ROUNDS behind her *rimshot* Thank you, thank you! You're a beautiful audience!

- I'm thinking about pursuing a book project that would mainly focus on something in my hometown, but I'm not sure if it'll come to fruition. I'll let you guys know if or when I make it happen.

- Last but not least *cue up the Donnie Simpson/Big Tigger sounder* ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'S FRIDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and I leave you with a joint to get you going. I've been pop-locking and doing the robot all morning to this one...

An Interview With The Misunderstood...

2009-03-14T08:35:00.002-04:00

Between a poor poor woman in Connecticut getting her face literally ripped off by a wild chimp and this picture, it seems that our mammalian and reptilian brothers and sisters have had enough of humans trying to domesticate them. Now instead of cute cuddly chimps, they are now dangerous beasts who should be shot at a moment's notice. Speaking as a black man, that's why you don't see any of us on those nature shows - WE KNOW BETTER. So yesterday afternoon, I had a chance to sit down with the Lioness in the linked photo. Her name is Meg and she has some interesting insights as to why animals are either cute and cuddly or dangerous and feared.

Chris: Hey Meg, first of all thanks for granting me the time to talk to you, I understand you want to get some things off your chest.

Meg: Oh no problem darling, and yes, I must, as I've seen you say in your works, "come clean" about a lot of things about us jungle-dwellers.

Chris: Alright, so let's get down to it. Pictures were made public late this week of you taking a swim with Kevin Richardson, the South African animal guru. The main picture caught you looking at the camera and you didn't seem to be smiling at all -

Meg: That's because, Chris, we don't smile. There was nothing funny about a sister trying to take an afternoon dip and being hugged on by some kooky guy who thinks he understands us. You see, I am a predator and a hunter of the highest order, the female version of a hustler if you will, and I really don't like cameras around when I'm trying to eat. So after Kevin left the water and took his flunkies with him, I on the other hand was still hungry. Not a good look.

Chris: I see. I'm sure you follow the news and you've seen primates going wild these last few weeks, Travis the movie chimp literally almost kills a woman and another monkey picks off his owner with one shot of a coconut high above in a tree. Why do you think humans try to make you guys who aren't house trained - and will never be house trained - cute and cuddly pets?

Meg: That last chimp had some great aim, didn't he? If that's any indication, the baseball players will want monkey DNA instead of steroids! *Chris and Meg laugh* But to answer your question, I believe humans look at us as their puppets because we are so damn sexy. I mean look at me - don't I strike you as a regal lioness? I do believe Kevin wants to engage in what humans call beastiality, but that is not my swag, as I've heard the kids say.

The fact of the matter is the Creator, God, the most high, Allah, Jehovah, whoever is responsible for life, made us with the intent to lay around in the sun, dip in the water, and tear some stuff up. That's it, that's our purpose. When humans try to domesticate us and make us their cute show and tell toys, we're just bubbling under the surface. Poor Travis, God bless the dead, clearly had enough of being made, well, a monkey.

Chris: Interesting indeed. Now I must ask because us humans are in a panic. A lot of us have this not-so-secret fear of you all arming yourselves and staging a hostile takeover of planet Earth. Should we be concerned with an armed animal force in the coming years?

Meg: Not necessarily. I mean as you've seen with me, Travis, Roger Simians and the squirrels, we're not going to take domestication lightly, but it's still years to go before we start taking everything over, even if we do. Our unspoken code in the animal world is "live and let live." If you leave us to our natural habitat and way of life, we will leave you to yours. You don't see me covering your sporting events, so I would hope you wouldn't be grazing around trying to kill an elephant with your teeth and hands like I would!

Chris: Good point. Is there anything you'd like to say in closing to maybe get your point across, even though you've done that fairly well in this sit down.

Meg: Yes - Dear, sweet, gentle, kindly little humans - Fall back. We are NOT your playthings, we are dangerous, ill-tempered, hungry powerful machines of death. We will make you a Happy Meal and think nothing of it. If you leave us to our routine and daily living, we will leave to yours and we can go back to co-existing without us beating the crap out of you.

Chris: Yes indeed. Well Meg, thanks again for the time, really appreciate it and good luck swimming with Kevin.

Meg: No, thank YOU Chris for giving me a chance to speak out. And I don't think I'LL be the one who needs the luck. *Evil lioness grin*

A Post Game Show Exclusive

2009-03-01T08:12:00.002-05:00

I was working in D.C. yesterday afternoon and who else but V stopped by to keep me company. We hadn't seen each other since '06 in Indy, and considering I live in MD, there's no excuse for me not to see my friends that do live in this area. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is there is videotaped evidence of us goofing off at halftime of the game I was covering, so I present to you my first video blog:

Hope you all enjoyed our goofiness as much as we did, LOL

Do you smell what Chris is cookin'?

2009-02-16T19:58:00.003-05:00

Thursday afternoon was a sure fire indicator my weekend was going to suck. As I got in my trusty Bonnie to go pick up some dinner, a weird bumping, crashing, grinding sound forced me to stop the car shortly after I left my apartment building's parking lot. I couldn't get the car in gear after that and had to slam on the emergency brake to keep from rolling into traffic, and that's when I was afraid that something was seriously wrong.

It took about three hours to get the car out of harm's way and a garage diagnosis, but my axle was shot and I'd be lucky to have a car, let alone have it back by the beginning of the week. I could only laugh and shake my head as I forked over the money for a rental car through the weekend and hoped the mechanic could work a miracle so I wouldn't be forced to buy another ride.

Meanwhile, as I highlighted in my previous entry, Valentine's Day is NOT a day I look forward to, but since I knew I wasn't going to be able to do too much traveling, I figured I may as well live up to my promise to set aside a week to learn how to cook a favorite dish. I decided to start with a classic, spaghetti and meatballs, because I seriously had a jonesing for it and hadn't partaken of the Italian (or is it Chinese? Thanks, Marco Polo) dish since I moved to Maryland 16 months ago. My mom gave me the ingredients and Saturday when I was ready, she sat with me on the phone for a good 90 minutes while I navigated my way through it. It was good to talk to my mom without family drama dominating the conversation and it was really fun to have her teach me to cook long distance.

I boiled and drained my noodles thoroughly, mixed them with my sauce, heated my meatballs, made a plate, and after dashing some grated cheese on the spaghetti, I stabbed a couple of meatballs with a fork, twirled spaghetti around them and took a bite. Success - sweet, delicious success. 27 years into life and I've made my first successful home-cooked dinner. I was on a high for the rest of the weekend, so much so I made a buffet-sized Sunday morning breakfast with waffles, pancakes and sausage patties. Talk about hitting the ground running.

Cooking will not only become a cost-cutting measure to keep myself fed, but I can also see it becoming a therapeutic hobby to help take away from the stress of work and the frustrations of living in solitude. I had a grand time talking to mom and making dinner on Saturday, and an even better time the next morning singing along to Rachelle Ferrell's "I'm Special" while flipping flapjacks and checking on my waffle iron. There's something fun and liberating about cooking for yourself while you blast your favorite songs in your apartment...now I remember why I wanted to be grown so bad.

As you can see, there were no mental or emotional breakdowns, I didn't even bother trying to find a quick fix for this Hallmark Holiday - I was able to find other ways to keep myself entertained, and that's so necessary when something has a hold on you the way my situation usually seizes me. I felt happy with myself, cleaning and cooking and watching NBA All-Star weekend online, never once thinking "I'm so alone," "women hate me," anything like that. I had fun by myself. And it was long overdue.

Oh, my car? Well, the mechanic was able to find a like-new axle and I got my car back this afternoon, running like she's supposed to run. Things always find a way to work themselves out. You just have to remain hopeful that they will, and I plan to from now on.

Trying To Let Go...

2009-02-04T19:06:00.004-05:00

10 years is a long time to remember anything. Having an excellent memory can be the gift and the curse because you can call on it when you need it for something important, and of course it will come out of nowhere and remind you of something that you've really and truly tried hard to forget. This really holds true for me, especially since next weekend will mark 10 years since my dealings with and my views of women were forever changed.

She was a short, brown-skinned, thick girl with a high-pitched voice that always seemed to sound like music to me whenever she addressed me at school. After spending much of my sophomore year lusting after her, she who must not be named pretty much told me my junior year that she wasn't looking for anybody or anything, but that we could be "friends."

At 16, how do you know that you were being shut down gently, that this was a polite way of saying "you have no shot?" You really don't, even if you claim to be wise with experience and understanding as most of the guys at my high school claimed to be. I figured being close to her in some way was better than her not knowing or caring to know that I exist, like 99 percent of the girls treated me. I accepted the offer.

Senior year comes, and at the start of 1999, she's still (so I thought) single, I'm still single, so I asked her if she would be interested in maybe getting together for Valentine's Day. The response was a shocker.

"Sure, we can do that, we can set something up."

Whoa. She didn't turn me down. She...actually agreed to it. Oh man, this is great! I spent days trying to tell my mom I'd need her car because I might actually have something like a Valentine and that she'd probably want to go see a movie and eat out and yadda yadda yadda...then the disappearing act.

For weeks, I hadn't seen a sign of her, not even around school (which was tough, considering our student population was less than 800), and the Friday of Valentine's Day weekend, I finally caught up with her at a basketball game in our gym when she was giving me the shifty eyes and the "ummm" treatment. I was the videographer for the boys basketball team in those days, so during a timeout, I left my video camera to try and ask her again what was going on and then as I walked into view, she who must not be named was holding a balloon and a bear...and another guy as they kissed. She looked at me as if she had seen a ghost. The stare, the furrowed brow, the frown that seems to automatically take shape whenever I'm around a woman was born at that moment. The one that I have yet to remove from my face.

The cruel joke that was Valentine's Day 1999 has stuck with me for close to a decade, and for obvious reasons, has hindered whatever situations I've encountered when it comes to women.

This is my explanation for my unequivocal hatred of the term "friends" - I simply don't believe that a woman genuinely wants to be friends with me or wants to strike up a friendship with the intention or the hope of becoming lovers. This has been proven to be true because a lot of women who claim to want to be friends and weren't looking for anything, were - if you'll pardon my francais, fucking out of both pantlegs. Of course, they weren't doing this with me.

Out of sheer frustration, several times I've tried to adapt my personality to that of guys who seem to have all the luck with women, but all it gets me is verbal attacks on my physical being and cruel statements that range from "you should be gay" to "that's why no woman would ever want your fat ass."

This situation also began a fascination and comfort with the internet that has been my only mode of interaction with women SINCE that fateful day. And of course, that has not helped, as I've had all of my problems with women from chatting online and not trying to approach women in person like most guys do.

It is also, not the only reason but surely a main one, why I have earned somewhat of a reputation as a misogynist. According to another E-book I've read, a misogynist is a person who is physically attracted to women, but hates them as human beings and as people. I can't even argue to the contrary. I've found myself mumbling obscenities and cruel jokes about women I've never even talked to as I navigate my way through daily life. "She must be bent over for every other dude around..." "you can TELL that broad loves her some thugs..." "Damn, what is she looking at? I wish this whore WOULD say something smart to me..."

But as I'm going through year number 27 of life, I start to feel like a WHOLE lot has passed me by. I really feel like my issues with women have stopped me from being happy with myself and having a good time in life, because all I do is work and come back to this quiet, dark apartment and sit on the internet all night. It's all I know, and I'm tired of it being that way.

However, I still have this monkey on my back, this albatross that won't move an inch, this 10-year situation that has held me back from even trying to see if all women are as bad as the ones I've encountered so far in life. People will surely tell someone to "get over" a traumatic event because it's easy for them to say, it's convenient to dole out "tough love" and a "kick in the ass" when they've never been hurt to the degree that some folks have been hurt. I would LOVE to let go, you just don't KNOW how I'd love to wipe the slate clean and try things differently than I have been doing them, but my mind will always think of 02/12/99 and how it pretty much ruined me for 10 years and ruined my thoughts and feelings about women from that point forward.

I guess this is my time to say that I will change. That I will stop my hatred towards women I don't know, accept responsibility for my inability to let go of something that happened years ago and start being more open-minded and taking more risks in the pursuit of a woman's companionship and affection.

My best friend reminded me of something the other day, something he said he's admired me for since we've been really close (about 15 years now). He said "whenever you're challenged, you rise to the occasion, and you do your best." I never knew he felt that way until he told me that via facebook chat that day, but I guess I need to start rewarding his faith, my family's faith, God's faith in me to change whatever I don't like.

So the time to stop guessing is now. It's time for me to get over the hurt that I've endured and will endure and keep an open mind and heart for the love that somehow, someway, will find it's way to me. It's time to let go.

The Slight Return...

2009-01-24T08:32:00.002-05:00

Well, it's been an interesting first month of 2009 to say the least. My absence the last few weeks can only be explained in two words: "Work" and "work." 'Nuff said.

Anyway I've been slacking on the walking (read - haven't been out there in three weeks), but I have upped the sit-ups to 400 a day and I've also added jumping jacks and push-ups to the mix, which makes for some serious upper-body pain, but that's weakness leaving the body, so they say.

My problem with walking is I like to do it as soon as I get up, but the advanced stages of darkness known as Daylight Savings Time has totally screwed me up. I'd wake up during the spring, summer and fall months with the sun blaring in my face, so I know it was time to get up and go do the work. Now, it's like 8 a.m. before the sun decides to show - if it shows at all - and I'm like "damn, might as well do some sit-ups instead," hence me going from 200 a day to 400 a day. At least I won't be too bad off when time goes forward again in a few weeks like I was last year. My God.

Sadly, I couldn't get to DC despite living about 90 minutes from the Nation's Capital, but I did watch and my mixed feelings didn't come from Obama taking office (as you can see by closing Gitmo and lifting the gag order on Abortion Funding, he's already taking care of business), but that dynamic that he and Michelle have. When she watched him take the oath (screwed up by John Roberts, BWAHAHAHAHAHA) with a proud and loving smile on her face, knowing it was as much her accomplishment as his, that was awesome.

But later that night during the First Dance of the ball with Beyonce singing "At Last" and nearly moved to tears while doing it, I sighed. As much as I love Barack and Michelle's relationship for being genuine, I just don't see that happening for a lot of us. There are a lot more Superheads than there are Michelles and more 50s and Flavor Flavs than there are Baracks. Maybe I'll go into detail about this in another post (which hopefully, won't take three weeks to write).

YouTube is the devil. I've said this before, but I mean it. I've spent so much time either here at the house or in the office watching NBA and NFL games from the 70s and 80s, it's a wonder I get any work or exercise done. I'm just so fascinated with that era of sports, that when a poster loads the bulk of the 1981 NBA Eastern Conference finals or someone has snippets of NFL playoff games from '75 and '76, I can't HELP but watch. Gosh I would've loved to be alive and a sports writer back in those days.

Anybody have any thoughts on swingers' parties? Just curious.

Thursday, I was in Wal Mart handling my grocery business when I saw a white girl in cloth shorts. Oh, I wouldn't think anything of it if it wasn't 15 FREAKIN DEGREES OUTSIDE! There's something wrong with these folks, I'm telling you.

The older I get, the less confident I feel...which is saying something considering I've never been confident to begin with. That scares me.

And finally, I'm learning to cook, slowly but surely. I made these honey barbecued chicken strips a week ago and they didn't turn out bad, just might need some seasoning or a trick to keep the chicken moist and let the bbq sauce seep in. Any tips you guys...I know the majority of my readers are ladies who can burn, so I know you all will help a brother out :)

Rhymes with 2009...

2009-01-01T15:51:00.002-05:00

You've seen it on your friends' facebook and myspace statuses.

"Shine in '09!"
"Fine in '09!"
"[Insert whatever you want] is mine in '09!"

Clearly we've entered a new year, which is the last one of this decade, if you can believe that. Doesn't it seem like yesterday folks were Y2K-proofing their computers and reading their Bibles and praying when the countdown began for 2000? Yes, time flies very fast, which is why I'm hoping I can get over my tumultuous 2008 and make a way for better times in 2009 (See? There goes another one!).

'08 was certainly an up and down year for me, unlike anything I ever experienced, but being that it was my first full year as a self-sufficient career man (and a leap year at that), I think I managed pretty well. Some of the ups include:

- Getting back on track with my diet and exercise, even though the Holidays proved to be what I thought they were - a time to grub. Needless to say after today, it's back to work.

- Validation and compliments from my job's clientele. Needless to say those are the folks that make us go, and when I'm at games and they come up to me and say "you're doing a fantastic job, keep up the good work," it can't help but bring a smile to my face every time. What's even better when I hear from a co-worker that people think I'm a good guy along with the work I do. Needless to say I plan to focus more on the good than the bad with my gig. Hey, at least I have one.

- The Phillies winning the World Series! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I can say in my lifetime that my favorite baseball team won a world championship and I was able to witness it all the way through. I wasn't born the last time they won (1980) so being a fan of a World Series championship team is a new and exciting thrill for me.

- Discovering strength that I really didn't know I had. I spent a lot of 2008 going through drama. Work, women, family, friends, hell even my toilet flooded my apartment Tuesday and I'm still trying to dry out and get the funk out of my crib behind that. All of that tells me that 1) The traits of the old Chris are fading away and 2) That last blast of foolishness I encountered in the last week of the year is making way for great things in 2009. I truly believe that. The old Chris would've flown off the deep end, snapped out and left things unresolved. Now I can find a way to get things done without panicking and making them worse than what they are. Well, in certain cases.

- Starting the process of self-discovery and acceptance. I still have a long ways to go, but as some of my posts suggest, I have no fear of putting everything about me out there as a means of trying to figure out what's going wrong and how I can correct it. I still have some things I need to bring to the surface, but I did a good job of recognizing my faults and trying to tranquilize them, if you will, as I move forward.

We can't forget the downs, and there were a ton of those, so I'll just stick to the ones that had the greatest impact on me:

- Christmas in Dramaville. Needless to say my 30 hour stay at home didn't go over well. Without putting family business out there, I'll just say that this Christmas has forced me to re-evaluate my longing for "home" and my relationship with my family and friends. It's something that has messed with me since I got back to Maryland, but I'm planning to figure out what it will take to make things right.

- Women. And that creates a subdivsion of issues, problems and situations that include;

I. A woman telling me I should be gay because no woman would ever want me
II. Me going over a woman's house, engaging in certain acts before she stopped me and lied about having to pick up her daughter, who she said was out of town.
III. Being on the phone with a woman for just about five hours only for her to say she's too tired to hook up but that she still wants to do so. Haven't heard from her since.
IV. The False Friend Drama, which you guys know all about.
V. A woman telling me she didn't want to make it seem like she could be bought, but continues to co-own a house with a man that openly cheats on her and is still married to his previous wife legally.
VI. Blogger beef. Yeah, even here. I guess I can't escape it.
VII. 90 Day Rules
VIII. Women who still want to use me for "friendship," but will turn to (and get turned out by) other guys for physical needs on a regular basis. And that's just SOME of the crap I encountered from women in 2008.

- Work. Even with the aforementioned compliements and positive feedback from clientele, I still got picked on ad nauseum for stuff I have no control over. I've contemplated quitting, but doing so in this recession without a job lined up is like giving R. Kelly a kindergarten class - just stupid. I'm just going to tough it out to the best of my ability and begin evaluating my options.

So with the recap done, here are some of the things I hope to accomplish in 2009;

- A new job. I said I would focus on the good rather than the bad, but this particular part of Maryland is NOT where I want to spend the rest of my life, so let the games begin.

- Keep losing weight. I dropped about 22 pounds from March to November 29th, so only God knows if I've picked some back up, but like I said, tomorrow, we get back on track.

- Do more of the grown up. Which is funny, considering I had more partners this year than ever before (yep, even with the drama, I still managed to get some every once in a blue moon), but I still feel like I'm missing out on some playatastic experiences. How to go about setting it off? Only time will tell.

- Oh wait, I know how. Be more social. And this is the hard part. I still kinda rely on this here machine to try and meet and hook up with women, but it doesn't work as much as I want to. However, what can you do when you're still afraid to be seen in public? Yeah, like I said, this is the hard part.

- Be less flexible. I bend TOO much. For women, for my job, for everybody. I need to learn to stand my ground and not really be swayed by negative or contrived persuasion to do things I don't want to do.

- Be an asshole to women. Hey, seems to be the only way to get attention, so let's see if it works.

- Be happy. Somehow, I've got to find out what makes me smile, what makes me content, what makes me forget about my problems and cares and just latch on to that.

I hope everyone had a great time in bringing in the New Year right!

Christmas

2008-12-24T20:37:00.003-05:00

Yes, I've slacked on my promise of a picture of my tree, but before I deliver, I must say that I've been in one of the nastier moods that I can remember in my life, and trust me, that's saying something. I wish I could blame it on the Holidays, but I refuse because I absolutely LOVE this time of year. I wish I could snap out of it, I wish certain things in my life were in order so I could be happier, but it's not that easy. It never is for me. Yet and still, with God's blessing and grace, I wake up in the morning, go about the task of getting myself together for whatever the day may bring.

I want to wish you all a Happy Holiday season, and while I'm going home to DE for a couple of days, I still have the use of a computer, so I may blog from home. In the meantime, here's my lovely tree...

You, Me And She...(or is it he?)

2008-12-15T16:40:00.003-05:00

Pictures of my colorful, fake-ass tree (*sigh* I'm so weak) coming in the next post, I promise, but I simply MUST get this off my chest.

As the two-line post prior to filling out Veronica's meme suggested, I've reached my boiling point with women. In the post since that one, I've had more drama with the female gender than a lil bit, and short of turning into Ike Turner or Ted Bundy, I really don't have a clue WHAT to do. But I think my inspiration for this post once again comes from La's take-no-prisoners style of posting (see her entry about bitchassness in dudes for a reference).

I wish Diddy, in his eloquent way, had an on-the-spot companion to bitchassness. Much like the Biblical Fable goes about woman being created from the rib of man, Diddy should've taken a rib from bitchassness and created a saying to explain the fraudulent behavior of Eve's descendants. Being that I'm starving for my Monday usual of a Philly chicken from the local cheesesteak place with the 16 year old waitress (yes, I'm STILL mad at myself about that), I can't come up with anything as I'm writing, but only God knows where my mind will take me.

Alls I know is this - women want male privilege. It's clear as crystal to me now, all this time I thought I was being singled out for being fat, dark-skinned and less than handsome, but I know that's not always the case now. Still is in some cases, but not all. How many times have we heard about women all of a sudden "playing the field" or "having a team set up" for each individual need? Don't answer, because we already know. Some of y'all reading this are guilty of it, LOL.

Now mind you, I don't begrudge anyone for their personal feelings, thoughts, gameplan or whatever gets them off. That's what happens when you're grown - you find out what you like, what works for you, and you flow with it. However, I just wish that regular cats like me wouldn't get caught up in the games women tend to play. I saw it on a less than PG-13 message board I frequent where this one girl spread out the types of men a woman may have on her "team:"

1) A guy who strokes a woman's ego, lavishes her with compliments, is the shoulder to cry on when dudes treat her like crap and will never be "The Man" because of his availability to her every need.

2) A guy who is a sugar daddy...one who lives by the hip-hop adage "It ain't trickin' if you got it."

3) The dude who ain't good for anything else other than breaking her back.

4) The would-be boyfriend, the guy (or sucker, depending on your perspective) a woman likes for a permanent relationship, BUT she wants to make him wait for the goodies.

I. CALL. BULLSHIT. The number four dude, save for numero uno, is the saddest out of the equation because he's doing everything right. You probably know him: Educated cat, self-sufficient, childless, relatively clean all around, but he JUST doesn't give off the aura of what all women really want in their lives - a bonafide asshole. The myth of a woman wanting to be treated like a queen is just that - a myth. Hence number 1 being undesirable because he's telling her she's got it going on and she deserves better treatment than what she's settling for. Honestly...she ain't settling! That's what she wants! Women don't want a nice guy, they want a guy who will dog them out and play around with their feelings because that element of drama somehow is the new Black.

And how does this translate to women wanting male privilege? Simple really.

Playing the field? Check.
Role Players? Check.
Sacrificing a good thing because of trifling immaturity and an inherent lack of self-control? DOUBLE check.

Yes, I just threw my gender under the bus as well. We might not have our game down the same way women do, but it's still the same game. I know many guys who have thrown away educated career women with decent personalities because she wasn't stacked enough, or her hair was too short, or she made too much more money than he does.

Those women, the ones who are rejected or who have been played by guys make up their mind that hey, anything you can do, I can do better. And so women begin hyping themselves up and building their empires, because they want to show guys that women are indeed equal because - hello, they were created from the side of a man. Sadly, this is where regular guys get screwed over because women drag us into their cat and mouse games with these guys that have hurt them or made fools of them, and regular guys in turn end up hurt, sad and, in my case, amazingly bitter.

This needs to stop. I not only speak for me, I speak for my cousin, who was held hostage for three years by a girl who claimed he was the father of her child only to find out that he wasn't - after he was paying child support and everything else for the kid. I speak for an acquaintance of mine who might be suffering from the worst case of blue balls ever after a woman came over his house, spent the night, went down on him and left him hanging saying she "can't do this." I speak for the millions (....AND MILLIONS!) of educated, employed, intelligent, kind, humorous nice guys who get their hearts DDT'd by women every day who feel like they have to prove something to the assholes by treating the regular guy like a doormat.

Women - get over it. Most times, the guy who you see as a liability is NOT the one that hurt you. You lament being unable to find a good man, but how many times have you passed over a good man, or even worse, treated a good man like something underneath your feet because of resentment you're harboring over a bad choice in a previous relationship/beneficial arrangment/whatever?

Simply put women, you can't be us. And if you think about it, why would you want to be?

Tag, I'm It...

2008-12-11T08:56:00.003-05:00

I've been tagged by V-Wrizzight, so here goes..

where is your cell phone? couch

where is your significant other? LOL

your hair color? Black

your mother? home

your father? afterlife

your favorite thing? writing

your dream last night? classified

your dream/goal? happiness

the room you're in? bed

your hobby? writing

your fear? loneliness

where do you want to be in 6 years? happy

where were you last night? work

what you're not? fake

one of your wish list items? CABLE!

where you grew up? Delaware

the last thing you did? shower

what are you wearing? towel

your tv? old

your pet? none

your computer? lifecenter

your mood? awake

missing someone? grandma

your car? rider

something you're not wearing? clothes

favorite store? Borders

your summer? exhausting

love someone? yeah

your favorite color? Red

when is the last time you laughed? Yesterday

last time you cried? October

are you a b*tch? nah

favorite position? mish

favorite past time? reading

are you a hater or a lover? lover

are you genuine or fake? Genuine

any vices? sex

pro life or wire hanger? Choice

mccain or obama? whoever won (sorry, had to be PC for profession's sake)

pro plastic or natural? Natural

dream job? producer/songwriter

This Just In...

2008-12-07T22:12:00.000-05:00

Women make me sick. That is all.

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

2008-11-23T16:18:00.004-05:00

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

2008-11-18T19:21:00.004-05:00

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

2008-11-16T16:19:00.006-05:00

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...

2008-11-11T22:43:00.002-05:00

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'....

2008-11-06T10:57:00.003-05:00

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....

2008-11-01T16:07:00.002-04:00

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.

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

2008-10-21T19:50:00.003-04:00

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.

Mid-October Randomness

2008-10-16T15:39:00.002-04:00

- Homecoming is Saturday. I'm nervous as hell, too, lol...my 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 youtube...you'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.

Sticks and Stones

2008-10-09T21:08:00.003-04:00

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 do...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."

Stunned.

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

Whoa.

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.

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

2008-10-04T10:33:00.003-04:00

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.

Good-bye 26, Hello 27!

2008-09-25T18:06:00.002-04:00

Yep, today was the big day. It's been non-eventful, thanks to the rain canceling my work assignment for the evening, but my co-workers did buy me a cake, my mother, younger sister and my road dogs called me early this morning, big sis sent an e-mail later in the afternoon and my facebook wall is one HUGE birthday greeting from a gang of folks.

So far, I've had a good day in the fact that I've been happy all day, and even though some random person tried to throw me off my game this afternoon, it's been a great day. It got off to a great start this morning when I went to the park to exercise. The basketball courts are closed down for two weeks for resurfacing, and that threw me off for like 10 seconds. Instead I decided to join the other folks who walk around the long circular parking lot (there are four baseball fields inside that circle, so it's a LONG way around). This morning, I got bold and chatted up an in-shape 53 year old sister who we'll call "Chocolate Miz," or CM for short. The reason we'll call her that is because once again, I'm an unabashed cougar connoisseur, and the only thing stopping me from making Miz the Demi to my Ashton is a few hundred to thousand miles of distance. Hi Miz! *waves and smiles*

Anyway, so CM and I chatted as we walked for over an hour straight about everything from Obama to educational programs to racism to our exercise routines. I never did ask if she was seeing someone or not, because I had a feeling her saying "my sons are older than you" was her way of deading any thoughts I had of advancing things. But man, does she look good to be 53. 5'4, 150 pounds, strong legs, a little something in the back underneath the track pants, hoodie and bucket hat. And there's the chocolate factor. Although I struggle with being darkskinned myself, women with some serious color do it for me everytime.

But yeah, the bigger story was the fact that I chatted up a woman on the fly and IN person, instead of trying to approach women via this here machine. Hopefully this morning's events will give me enough confidence going forward to approach more women in person. I know every woman won't be as open and accepting as CM was this morning, but I can't let a few failures get in the way of potential successes.

La had a brilliant post earlier this week about timelines and deadlines we impose on ourselves, and ever since I read it, I've been thinking about it, and she's pretty much spot on, as she always is. We really can't measure ourselves by what our friends and peers maybe doing, the most we can do is be happy with where we are ourselves, and if not, then make steps to change it. Both my boys have children, healthy relationships with their current SOs, but they both have been divorced too, so even they had some valleys in the journey to their peaks.

I think about where I am now that I'm starting 27 - no kids, certainly no relationship prospects, but when I think about the entry-level nature of my gig...could I really be a family man right now? No. I'd have to pretty much work two jobs to support a wife and kid(s), even though I'm sure my wife would work, it'd be tough right now, so the best I can do is just keep progressing in my career until I can rightfully feel like I can be the provider that a man is supposed to be in the household.

The biggest storyline that will unfold as this year goes on is feeling better about myself. Even though I did have a quick issue with someone this afternoon, it passed over because I was still feeling high off the well-wishes I received and the conversation with CM. Even though it's been raining all day and the skies have been dark, I was determined not to let anyone steal my sunshine, especially on my birthday. And with the help of the people that care about me and a conversation with a certified couger in the AM, I was largely successful.

Let year 27 begin.

"Send For Me...I'm just a telephone call away..."

2008-09-14T19:40:00.004-04:00

"James...you can't answer the phone, you can't return calls, what's going on?" My best friend Y (I'm still uncomfortable with using folks' governments on this blog, go figure) has called me by my middle name since we were kids, and I used to vehemently - and to a larger extent, childishly - admonish him for calling me that. Now, I could care less. It's just great to hear a familiar voice on the other end of the line. We talked about his recent campaign for city council back home, and he joked that he was going to mortuary school to run for office because the two guys that won spots out of the Democratic primary were funeral directors. Just because they bury a lot of victims of my hometown's violence, does not mean they know how to stop the killings. My mother and I were angry because my boy was built for this. He's been in government on SOME level since grade school - he knows the ins and outs of city government and even had a well-thought out plan to strengthen neighborhood schools. But he's fine with it, and if he's content with his efforts, then I'm proud of him.

We also talked about our other best friend J who by the miracle of God is going to receive a kidney after his own failed him earlier in the spring, just a few weeks after his mother's sudden death from Diabetes. We were both glad for that bit of good news, and Y was surprised when I told him I prayed for our boy. The irony of my relationship with God is that I haven't stopped by his crib in a minute. I was last a regular church-goer in the spring of 1999, and for my own reasons, I have yet to find a place to worship, and not really breaking my neck to do so. But I do make an effort to at least verbalize my thoughts and feelings, hopes and wishes to God so he can at least know that I believe in Him and whatever plan he has for me, I'm more than willing to follow along. Y is a really devout Christian, not to the point of Bible Thumper, Judge and Jury, but he is strong on faith. And I could tell he was pleased on the other end when I told him I sent one up for our dog.

A 15 minute conversation like that can really make one's day, and it really picked up my day, especially less than two weeks from my 27th birthday where I'll more than likely spend it alone or working. So I plan to touch base with my friends and family more often until I can do something about my current situation of loneliness. Even though this place sucks, it's good to know the people that you are closest to are really just a few phone buttons away.

Bonnie and Chris

2008-09-10T17:03:00.006-04:00

She's a full-figured goddess. Sleek curves with ample junk in the trunk, she's great to handle, perfect to spend time with and she gets me where I need to be. She has the loveliest cherry red complexion with a warm and comfortable interior, she's my baby, and I'm glad we're together.

I'm talking about my car of course. My 1992 Pontiac Bonneville, affectionately known as - what else? - Bonnie. We hooked up a year and a week ago and have been rolling pretty tight ever since. Aside from new brakes, new tires, a new battery and the usual oil change, I haven't had to do anything but drive, and in my job? As much as I travel? That's an added bonus.

I was car-less for a year after Champ (my '94 Mitsubishi Diamante) bit the big one and we never could get it fixed before some haters on my mom's block called my car in as abandoned and the city took it away. I still think it was the folks next door, who hate black people, but are surrounded by a block full of them. I could go into greater detail, but that's another story for another time.

So when I finished school last August and went looking for a car (I had started making arrangements to freelance for a couple of local newspapers), I came across a plain ad in the classified section of the very paper I would be stringing for. It was for a 1992 Bonneville, 140,000 miles, all paperwork, $1500 as is, call ***-****. I went to see the ride, and the Hitchens family, a great couple living in Old New Castle, told me that they had just purchased a Chevy Trailblazer and they had no more use for the Pontiac, which had all maintenance work done to it within six months. Basically, it was close to new as a '92 GM could get. For 1500 though? Hmmm...Mrs. Hitchens gave me the keys and told me to ride it out and see if I liked it.

45 miles later, I came back to the house and said that I would like to buy. They encouraged me to think it over a couple of days. I was able to do so and I picked Bonnie up for good on Thursday, August 28th. We've been together ever since. Trips up and down 95 to come home, riding around Southern Maryland for work...driving to DC and Baltimore for work, or just going to the Borders up in Waldorf to update my libraries. I didn't get a car until I was 23 years old, and now that I'm turning 27 soon, sure the thrill of "ha, I got a car" is LONG gone, having reliable transportation, even with gas prices being the way they are, will never get old. Getting up and going somewhere because you can, just you and your car and the road, thinking, driving, rapping, singing, more thinking, it's been a lifesaver for me a lot of times.

So here's a toast to me and my car on our one year anniversary. May many more follow....and hopefully we can find a good girl to share our special love with *wink*

Soundtrack Of My Life: Let's Get Physical....

2008-09-07T17:22:00.002-04:00

Don't be alarmed readers, this has nothing to do with hot, lovely relations *wipes drool from right corner of my mouth*, but it's some of the music I enjoy when I'm working out and trying to get myself into shape. If you're wondering how that's going, I haven't stepped on a working scale in close to six months, but the looseness in my clothes, the extra pep in my step, and the turbo boost of energy I've picked up in recent weeks tells the story. I took a new profile picture and slapped it up there, so maybe y'all can see it in my face. So let's look at some of the music and routines I go through to become a better - and healthier - Chris.

Cuts for Sit-Ups

"Ground Zero," Dip Set - The clashing of the cymbals, the rapid-fire guitar samples, Juelz Santana imploring the listener to "come on" at the beginning is the perfect start to a 20-sit-up set, which only takes a few seconds for me to complete. Music like this is the reason I'm up to 1000 sit-ups per week. 200 Monday/Wednesday/Friday, 100 the other four days of the week is how I break it down.

"Sing For The Moment," Eminem - This one is totally off the hi-hats. You can get into a rhythm by the tick of the drum because it's 1-2, 1-2, 1-2, with the bass giving you a quick boompboomp in the middle to settle you if you get off your pace. This was my sit-up song through the first eight months of 2007, that song motivated me when I needed it the most and it still does a pretty good job of that now.

"You're Gonna Pay," The Undertaker's theme from late '02 to fall 2003 - My favorite Undertaker persona of all time was when he was a human character, a red-headed bad ass biker from Houston, Texas. He slimmed down to about 290 pounds, started using submission moves to go along with the Last Ride power bomb, and had a phrase to this day that I use whenever someone needs to be checked. "You see that? That's the yard. And I'm the big dog that runs that yard. I don't like people playing in my yard." So whenever I need to feel bad ass while doing sit ups, I click on this one.

Home Stretch

I've been concentrating largely on my thighs and rear end because those areas are the ones that need the most toning. *Sigh* I know that sounded real femme. Don't judge me. Approximately 1 minute each of standing and sitting butterfly stretches, leaning to the left, right and center, one leg in, one leg back...I try to do it all. I usually end up listening to something that will relax me while I'm stretching, like Paul Hardcastle's Rain Forest, Summer Madness by Kool and the Gang, Breezin from George Benson. Those kinds of instrumental pieces are usually best while stretching because you're not going to do yourself any favors if you're tensed up while stretching. At least that's what works for me.

Chris is playing ba...sket...ballllllllllll....

As I've said in an earlier post, I live out hoop dreams and favorite plays from basketball history when I'm on the court alone for an hour every morning at my local park. It makes it more fun to try and replicate some of the moves I've witnessed over my life.

Random theme music from 1980 NBA Finals Films - The track in question starts at the 4:09 mark. It's Game Two of the '80 finals when my Sixers jumped out to a 23-point lead against the Lakers, only to have LA come back and make it close at the end, but the Sixers held on to win 107-104. At 4:57 is where I practice my top of the key jumper from about 18 feet out, just like Darryl Dawkins takes and makes at that spot. And yes, like in the video, after I hit the shot, I turn around and jog to the other end of the court. I do it at least five times - hey, it gets the legs moving, especially when you're out there at 6 a.m.

"Swagger Like Us," - T.I./Kanye/Wayne/Hova - Now anybody who knows me, knows I HATE the word "swagger" with a passion. It ranks up there with game (i.e. "you need some game to get a woman") as the words of my generation that I absolutely loathe. But this track is a killer, and every time I walk onto the court and my shot is falling, even if I am just shooting for and by myself, I have a certain, well *finger down throat* swagger.

Bulls playoff video music from 1992 - This music runs from 4:50 to the end of the first vid until the first minute of the second one (there are two different links there). Really don't have a description for this one, except I can imagine playing under the bright lights with a series on the line and not giving an inch until my team comes out with the victory, much like the Bulls did in that NY series.

1984 NBA Playoff Music, Celtics/Knicks series - This music goes from 2:54 to 3:39 (sorry for all the YouTube links, but it's a matter of convenience, lol), and much like Bird is in the zone under this music, I usually feel the same, creating three-point plays for myself, hitting shots while the shot clock winds down, embarrassing my opponent. It's basketball. Gotta win, or else you lose *wink*

So that's a long and supersonic look into what I hear or see when I'm working on getting in shape to feel better about myself. I need a lot of motivation, and what I've listed definitely provides it.

Love Is A Song Worth Singing...

2008-08-30T11:17:00.003-04:00

Quiet Storm Radio is a strange animal. Last night, while returning from a work engagement in Annapolis (Route 2 either north or south is the most boring drive known to mankind), I hit the WHUR button on my car radio to unwind and I alternated between that and Magic 102.3 for the hour and 20 minute ride home. Music, as evidenced by the Soundtrack of my life posts, is in my eyes the deepest expression of feelings, relationships, historical events, just life as a whole that there is. Love songs are NO different, especially the classics. The first song I heard on the way back was "The Closer I Get To You," by Roberta Flack and the late great Donny Hathaway. I just sighed and listened as I drove a lonely two-lane highway back to an empty apartment.

As another indicator of my vivid imagination and quirky nature, my mind often wanders to situations where the song could apply. Almost always, this song draws back the curtain on a scene of some amazing woman and I just hanging out under the stars, my arm around her, her head either directly on my shoulder or just under my chin on the upper part of my shoulder. A soft kiss here and there, but really, just silence. The kind of silence that speaks of not wanting to ruin a perfectly good moment. Words can sometimes complicate things, especially moments you want to enjoy and it's best not to throw that delicate balance off.

And at that moment, all the b.s. in the world and in your life, be it work, family drama, somebody famous dying every 15 minutes - it simply doesn't exist. It's just you and the one that you care most about, a person that just the sound of their breathing makes everything right in your world. The feel of their skin, the warmth and comfort in their eyes, the harmony of their voice, the sweet and smooth tenderness of their kiss, it all can replace whatever is going wrong at that moment.

That moment is something I think about more and more as the days wear on. That moment, that everlasting tie to a woman who reciprocates the feelings that I feel for her, the peace of she and I together without a care in the world on a clear and comfortable night - THAT'S what I want. Even if I can't have it in my life as of yet, I can turn on Roberta and Donny and let my imagination show me to a love that I feel I'm getting closer to attaining all the time.

High School Highs and Lows: Spanish Class, Part I

2008-08-26T17:39:00.004-04:00

My high school's senior class was so small that we only had ONE Spanish class for the entire school year. One period a day for four marking periods. They crammed the 35-40 of us who needed the credit in one of the smaller rooms of our school, but that made for a fun environment. Our teacher was Ms. Pierce, a lovely buxom sister who could've passed for a classmate if she didn't have the authority to pass and fail us. Either way, she let us seniors be, well...seniors. As long as we did our work, she encouraged us to talk, laugh, joke, and in some cases, argue.

One incident that I and my best friends still joke about to this day happened the VERY first day of classes. My boy Y was involved at the time with a girl who had a best friend that nobody at school liked. This is one of those cases where someone is unattractive inside and out. She was just a loud, obnoxious and ignorant chick, and folks took great delight in clowning her when she got out of line. Bitter best friend was mad because her girl was spending QT with Y, which is what boyfriends and girlfriends do, if I'm not mistaken. So Ms. Pierce decides to have us sit according to last name, and the fun begins. Y's last name was very close to bitter best friend's, and one can assume the feelings of envy, hatred, jealousy and resentment all came boiling up to the surface. As soon as my boy gets ready to take his seat....

"OH NO! OH NO! HE CAN'T SIT BY ME! MS. PIERCE, YOU GON' HAVE TO MOVE HIM!" The room just stops and watches her disintegrate in front of our eyes, and me and my other road dog J are in the back of the room howling laughing because this girl is going off because our boy is dating her girl, and she feels like the third wheel - or in her case, third, fourth fifth and AND sixth (I'm sorry, God. Couldn't resist.). Ms. Pierce, whose cheerful sistagurl voice was reduced to a stunned whisper looked around and said, "Y, would you mind sitting in the back with Chris and J? I know you all are very tight." I kicked my bookbag out of the spare desk next to me and waved him over with the biggest damn grin on my face. We all had a great laugh that day. And that was just the start.

Not long after that bit of comedy, there would be some heartbreak, heartbreak so severe that the classroom would see a big strong dude reduced to a vulnerable, hurting mass of teenager...

The Soundtrack Of My Life - Hey Lady....

2008-08-20T18:12:00.007-04:00

In a new series of Post Game Show musings (I'm hitting y'all between the eyes with the newness because now I'll have time during the day, yes!), The Soundtrack of my life will highlight songs that I closely associate with certain situations, people, memories, et cetera. And of course, Chris wouldn't be Chris if he didn't associate music, my tied for number one love (with sports and all things wheels) with women. The songs I list will more than likely be linked so you can listen to them and a brief explanation will follow, so sit back and enjoy the Soundtrack of my life....

Golden Lady - Steveland Hardaway Judkins Morris....Stevie Wonder what they call him. There's an innocence in these lyrics that make me feel like a woman this great does exist. A woman with it all across the board. Personality, intelligence, sweetness, with a natural beauty that makes you want to spend a gang of time with her before you even get to the knitty gritty. Hence the hook "Golden Lady, Golden Lady, I'd like to go there..." That means he hasn't even hit it yet! He's gushing over this woman's soft hands, beautiful eyes and smile and how he just wants to spend time with her and then he's like "I want to make love to you eventually." Stevie knows how to charm a woman and make a man feel like this is how it should be done.

Sanctified Lady, Marvin Gaye - Released in the winter of '84-85, more than six months after his death, this song was a leftover from the Midnight Love sessions. You can tell that this was when Marvin was really indulging in that powder, if you get my drift. The original title was Sanctified *woman's sexual organ*, and it showed how Marvin had the madonna/whore mindset down to a science. I'm guilty of this as well - I'm mad when a woman is interested in taking it slow with me, yet I'm always clowning chicks who give it up to certain guys quickly. In the song, Marvin wants a freak, who's "saving her thang for Jesus." That ain't gon' work. Or will it? Hmmm...

Around The Way Girl, LL - While I've blogged about my attraction to women who I shouldn't be caught dead with, I do appreciate a woman who is intelligent, independent and a lady, but still can laugh, joke around and be cool around everybody. I knew quite a few Around the way girls at Del State who were about their business, but still were homegirls when class let out, and to me, that was cool. I love a successful woman just like the next man, but a woman who can turn that off and just be a down-to-earth girl once she's off the clock? Awesome.

Good Girls, Joe - *sigh* One of the most under-appreciated singers of my generation, and me, one of the most under-appreciated guys ever (hey, I'm not always modest *wink*). I was 16 when this song was hot and that was around the time my interest in girls REALLY heated up, but they were like "Chris, you're so sweet, but..." Either I wasn't their type, they looked at me as a true friend, or they were already taken. Much like Joe, I believe there's a girl out there who wants me, and I have to keep working until I happen to meet her.

Insatiable Woman, Isley Jasper Isley - Back to intimacy, I still long for a woman who is attracted to me to the point where she really can't get enough of me physically. Seems demanding and challenging, but I've always felt like if there's mutual attraction and adoration, there are no limits to pleasing one another. Sure there's more to a relationship than sex, but it's a part of any relationship 95 percent of the time. Why not make it the best it can possibly be?

Well, there are more songs that make me think of woman, but these are the first five that come to mind, and they're a unique mix that I think gives you guys a clue of my mindset when it comes to finding and dealing with women. Any questions? Well, you know where the comments go :)

Time Keeps On Slippin'....

2008-08-16T20:26:00.004-04:00

I walked around the fields at one of the local high schools early this morning, catching coaches and players for a preview I'm working on and the excitement of kids trying out for different sports was amazing. As I saw kids milling around with their parents and their health forms, meeting coaches and their future teammates who aare ready to get an early start on their season, it reminded me of one totally shell-shocking fact - 10 years ago, around this very same time I began my senior year of high school with the first football practice. Yes, the last class of the last decade of the last century of the second millennium.

1999.

One of our favorite quotes for our class came from Memphis Bleek's verse on the "Money, Cash, Hoes" remix (y'all can't do nothin with this here/for 1, I pack three 9s like the year) and we used it liberally whenever we felt the need to emphasize our seniority over the youngins...they were so the future. We were now, as in 1999 now. My classmates probably don't even remember much about senior year, but I'm still holding on to one experience that's truthfully responsible for much of my issues with women. Don't expect me to elaborate on that until the 10-year anniversary of that comes up, but you'll know it when you see it.

That drama along with missing out on marching because of a geometry credit that I was screwed out of and constant torture by one of the most popular guys at school at the time made my senior year not so fun, but I came out of that alright. If I had only realized back then that I was strong and that God was watching me, I could've saved myself a lot of stress and strain, but I guess better late than never.

I think about Chris in 1998 and Chris in 2008 and I haven't changed that much, but I've changed somewhat. I think around that time is when my shell really grew into a fortress, and that was a bad thing. I'm working on tearing it down now, I've made some significant progress in deconstruction, but I really would like to get the courage to blow the doggone thing to debris and worry about cleanup later. The only folks from high school to really get past that wall were my two best friends, and we're still tight to this day, even though I didn't make it easy for them at all.

I felt so old watching the football team's defensive drills, if someone asked me to "chop it up, dive, roll, left, right, up" these days? The gas face would be serious. It'll be interesting to see come the spring if we have a 10 year reunion. Would I go? Maybe. Would I resist temptation to throw my success in the face of my tormenters? Yes. I'm thankful for what I've been through, both positive and negative. It's making me better day by day, and I'm not gonna impede His work in a fleeting moment of personal triumph. High School was so long ago. Now DSU's homecoming in about two months? I'm just gonna have to ask Him for forgiveness afterwards. Because Big Daddy is showing up and showing out!

I really am thinking about a series of entries about my senior year of high school because we do have some stories worth telling. Names might have to be changed to protect the not-so-innocent, but there will be some stuff. Y'all be sure to hold me to it. It'll be to your benefit :)

Lists By Chris

2008-08-12T19:26:00.002-04:00

Alas, as I've been out here grinding, I haven't blogged like I want to, but since the Queen of the Lists La has inspired me, along with a lil' coaxing from Duck, I bring to you Lists by Chris. This entry will consist a list of the good women I know in life. I figure for all my issues with the cluck-clucks who I shouldn't even bother myself with, it's time I give a little love to the ladies who might not want to throw their panties at me, but still treat a brother like a normal human being and actually like and care for me. So here goes:

1. My mom. *Two-steps* I'll always love my mama, she's my favorite girl! I'll always love my mama, she brought me in this world! And that's not to say Paula Jean and I haven't had our share of disagreements and times where we were mad at each other, but truthfully, I'm glad she's the one who gave me the gift of life and the courage and smarts to go for what I want in life. She might have her ways, but that's mom. And I'm thankful for her.

2. The aforementioned Duck. Radio production princess by day and dancing machine diva by night, Duck always manages to use that in between time to fool around with me via AIM and try to convince me that I can't expect a woman to be ready to jump between the sheets with me because she MIGHT like me and wants to know more than my name is Chris and I work as a journalist. And I've said this to her many times, but I'll share it with you all - you KNOW you really have a friend when no matter how fine this woman is, you don't have any different thoughts about her because she truly is a friend. And shockingly, I'm quite alright with that.

3. My DSU crew. *Sigh* The class of 2008, LOL...six chicks, four of which I worked with at the school paper became my closest confidantes in my final three years at Del State, including me in their non-girly activities, and boy did we cut up when they'd have music nights in the newspaper office. I was giving lap dances to their friends, singing songs, they'd have dance routines, freestyle contests, the whole nine. And we'd talk about sex forever (big shock, horny college folks). They were surprised I had as much experience as I did from our talks. Quite frankly, I'm shocked too.

4. Momma T-Dot. Although I believe she secretly HATES the nickname I've given her, T-Dot truly has some maternal characteristics when she's giving out advice and pep talks that really endears her to me as a friend. And there's nothing wrong with that. Between her, Duck and a few other ladies, they've saved me from doing even more damage to myself, if that's humanly possible. And she's funny as hell! The dry humor might've been invented by someone else, but this girl perfected it. Huhlarious.

5. Blogger Nation. I've come in contact with some truly dynamite women via this network and it's been fun knowing them at least through their thoughts and feelings on life, there's Agent Ness, the southern Belle with no filter, and Jameil, the woman of several random thoughts and jokes compounded into one lil ball of energy. La, another southern Belle with an up-north attitude and givesnottadamn swag that makes her awesome, along with another Veronica, whose encouragement and inspiration I've come to cherish. Eb the Celeb, a party girl with a great mind and is as real as real can be, and Exhibit A why older women are really hot in the streets, Miz. Seriously, I can't say how old the oldest women I've ever dealt with was, but let's just say you are not out of my range, Miz. I see ya creepin' *wink*

Truthfully, I know a few more, but if I omitted your name, charge it to my sleepy head and not my heart. For all of you have a place there. Little by little, you ladies are teaching me that I do deserve better than what I give myself credit for, and if I can find a woman with just a little bit of everything from you all, then I truly will be blessed with the woman of my dreams.

KICK IT!

2008-08-09T17:52:00.000-04:00

R.I.P to one of the best that ever did it. You certainly weren't "scared of these m***erf***ers!"

365 Days

2008-07-31T09:53:00.003-04:00

I remember driving down to Delaware State University that morning in my mom's Chevy Lumina with a troubled frame of mind, but a hopeful heart. After a little over five years of campus living, the last three pretty much in an apartment-style setting, I was moving back home because my last two classes at Delaware State University only had two weeks to run and I hadn't secured a job as of that time. I dreaded going home because of a mass amount of drama at my mother's house, not to mention I cherished what freedom I had at DSU, even though I couldn't stand my recently departed roommate.

The new tenant of the place, a Sigma known as R&B Bill was very cool to me in the few days leading up to my move so I was glad to not have to worry about some foolishness moving out. The physical move didn't take very long at all. The mental and emotional move was something altogether different. I had to worry about how I was going to adjust, if I was going to be home forever, if I would keep the weight off....

365 days later...I live on my own, I work in my field, I'm 150 miles south of home, lonely as can be, but my life is peaceful. They do say time flies when you're having fun or in the real world, and the two are indeed polar opposites of each other, but I never thought my life would change so drastically from one year to the next.

I think I just made up my mind last year that I was going to be successful and make things work at all costs because I had no responsibilities and nothing to lose. What was the worst that could happen? A few months at home? Working in my field part-time while holding down a boring full-time job? Small potatoes in the grander scheme of things.

As Duck said in an entry of mine not too long ago, my last year or so has been marked with professional growth and now is the time for me to get on the personal growth. I'm back on track with exercise and diet (1000 sit-ups a week along with the basketball, am I crazy?!) and I keep my hair cut low and my face clean shaven. My complexion comes out better that way, LOL...while I'm thinking twice about making The Art of Seduction my dating and intimate Bible (thanks for the perspective, Miz!), I do know that it will take some effort and developing some sort of charm or courage to put my personality out there to attract women. A year ago, I would've denied anything was wrong with me, but now I know it is indeed a two way street.

I actually dribbled around the court for about 15 minutes this morning, not shooting, not making any cuts to the basket, just pacing near the foul line, dribbling, thinking, contemplating, smiling. I knew that while life is never going to be perfect and my past wasn't that bad, I'm happy with the present and the future that I have in store for me. My, what a year's time can change.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

2008-07-25T18:42:00.003-04:00

"When I think of home, I think of a place..." If you could hear me sing that in my best Stephanie Mills voice, then you KNOW what I'm talking about. Around this very time 2007, I was preparing to move all of my belongings out of my campus apartment at Delaware State University and heading back home, due to my lease ending at the end of that month and that I would be finished my final two classes in a little more than two weeks time. I felt like a failure in returning to my mother's house, a job after my imminent graduation unsecured. I was so anxious to get out on my own, so driven to leave the small-but-big city atmosphere of Wilmington, DE that I literally jumped at the first job that was offered to me. Close to 10 months later, I've learned from that mistake, and it is one I will never make again. I could rail against where I live now, but I'd rather remember home.

I'd rather remember my evening walks into downtown Wilmington, chaperoned by police cars and security units on bikes, desperate to keep the burgeoning business and arts district violence and crime free.

I'd rather remember the morning walks past one of the many banking headquarters in Wilmington down to the train station magazine store, picking up a new copy of KING magazine.

I'd rather remember REAL Philly Chicken Cheesesteaks from Hot Spot's on Miller Road.

I'd rather remember driving close to an hour from Wilmington to Dover to get my haircut at Jaze, the best barbershop in the state's capital.

I'd rather remember going to a Thursday night football game for the first time as an alumni of Delaware State University and having people go "wow Chris, you HAVE lost weight!"

I'd rather remember Rita's...sweet Rita's and her water ice.

I'd rather remember Philly girls. I miss my Rasheedahs, Aishas, Aleeshas, Kims, LaToyas, Shakimas, Lachelles, Janelles and Aliyahs. And yes, I miss their real, take-no-ish, this is me, I'm loud and proud with my dyed hair and Philly attitudes. So very real.

I'd rather remember CBS3 Eyewitness News with Angela Russell at 4 on the weekdays, Anne Marie Green on weekend mornings and Mary Stoker Smith on weekend nights.

I'd rather remember DirecTV at mom's crib. Boomerang and ESPN Classic all day, everyday.

I'd rather remember my first freelance assignments for two different newspapers in the same day.

I'd rather remember the Quiet Storm with Tony Brown on 105.3 WDAS FM...which I'm about to listen to online right now.

Oh, how I wish I could go back. But I need a job to open up that way in order for me to go back. From my mouth to God's ears, hopefully. In the meantime, I'll just reminisce and think of a way to get back to an area where all my family, friends, and real memories are located.

Book Review, or "It SEEMS easy, but...."

2008-07-20T08:56:00.003-04:00

Before I begin, I must confess. Jameil was right. That poem was not about any particular woman, it's about the ongoing war between me, myself and I. So no faithful readers, I'm not in love, not in a relationship, not talking to anybody. Still in the same spot as I was before. Hopefully this book that I'm reading can at least assist in moving the process forward.

On a message board I frequent for reasons that can't be named, I came across a PDF file of Robert Greene's The Art of Seduction. Now, I had heard about this book before, not sure if anyone ever suggested I read it, but being a true bookworm, I'll gladly read anything once. That thinking came back to bite me in the behind when I picked up that book about brothers going to Brazil, but I digress.

Anyway, The Art of Seduction enchanted me from the foreword on. Greene expertly details the different types of successful seducers, gives famous examples of these types of people, what their strengths and weaknesses are. One that stuck out for me was the Demonic Rake, and the famous example was gossip journalist-turned WW I fighter pilot Gabriele D'Annunzio. He was considered, by late 19th century/early 20th century standards to be an unattractive man of no real wealth and was an annoyance to socialites and royalty who wanted to keep their business out of the streets.

So unattractive was D'Annunzio that these guys felt like he could be around their wives with no problem. Surely, a lowly, ugly journalist could NEVER draw any interest from beautiful, rich, high-society women. Well they shouldn't have left their girl 'round G, true playa fa real, ask the homey Pharrell! He would lavish the ladies with compliments tailored to their strengths, write passionate poems and letters to them, speak in this voice that couldn't help but captivate and boom...the knickers were his.

The similarities between Gabriele and Chris are there. For one, the original profession. Except I don't deal in rumors and innuendo, I deal with stats and scores (and how I love it!). Two, although a lot of you think there's nothing wrong with me physically, I feel inadequate when measured up against the tall, not-so-dark and handsome guys in shape that women can't get enough of. The similarities end obviously with Gabriele having the swagger to work these women into a frenzy with his words, in voice and on paper. I sighed longingly when I read that vignette about him because it seemed like he was an Italian me, but I just don't have the confidence to do what he did.

Another one of interest was "The Dandy." The Dandy is a person who is not held down by the ideal gender roles they are supposed to play in life, making for a flexible, androgynous character that appeals to the intended target. Damn, if that don't sound like my boy Prince. For about 30 years now, guys have wondered what women see in a 5'2 guy who wears high-heeled boots, some make-up and has a voice that doesn't necessarily scream macho. Well aside from being the most talented dude to pick up any musical instruments Post-Disco, his Dandy characteristics appeal to women who like to see more of themselves in men. Prince picked up on that, and he's been banging some of the hottest women in showbiz for YEARS. I don't think the Dandy method of seduction is for me, but I do see how it's worked so well for His Royal Badness.

Of course, for every Seducer, there is...the Anti-Seducer *dramatic music* And there are eight different types of anti-seducers that repel folks, and I fit a couple of these types. One is the Brute, and it's not as bad as it sounds. The Brute is basically someone who is impatient. That's apparently what makes for good seduction, the anticipation, the pursuit, things like that. I know I'm impatient, hence my issue with women wanting to get to know me or just be friends.

The Bumbler is definitely me, like I might get close here and there, but the Brutish tendencies tend to, well....bumble the opportunity to seduce. And yes, the Tightwad. One reason I don't date? It ain't cheap. I did say in my letter to myself that I had to stop thinking of dating as tricking or trying to buy a woman, but it just seems like "you want me to pay for this and you might not even be interested in me? HA!" Yes, I have a long way to go.

Greene also outlines victims, 18 in all, that would-be seducers should hone in on and go for the kill. I fit the mold of The Disappointed Dreamer. My dreams of being adored by women for just being myself have not come true, hence my feeling horribly about myself. Another one might be the Drama Queen, but I prefer to change it to King, thankyouverymuch! O.K., so this one IS me. I've been hurt, can't let go, and hold everyone else responsible for it. I'm still learning and still growing, so I can admit I've probably bumbled a few chances because I didn't get my way right away and it reminded me of another situation, probably at Del State, that went terribly wrong. And I'm also The Professor, who tends to over-analyze everything. Nothing else needs to be said about that one, LOL.

Finally, Greene gives the 24 steps to seduction, which pretty much involve pursuit, falling back, making your victim chase you, and then going for it all. This is where I really sighed and was drawn in because it seems like something anyone could pull off. It takes confidence, self assurance, a game plan, patience and a willingness to please. I only have the last one. If I could get the first four in my life, I'd have better luck dating and all.

I think that's why The Art of Seduction reeled me in the way it did - It was supposed to. I could not lose my place when I went to work briefly last night, so I left that page open on my computer, and when I was done covering the softball game, I came right back to the house and kept reading. That's what a good seduction does, keeps the person interested so they can feel comfortable and then you draw them in even further. That's a skill I wish I had, and maybe this book can help me develop it, somehow.

Reflection

2008-07-12T10:39:00.005-04:00

You don't love me, and quite frankly and that's sad
after all we've been through
the good times we've had
this union was destined to stand true
we're supposed to be inseparable
but there's a war going inside none of us are safe from
the damage could be irreparable
the heartache we share is second to none
We can fix this, we need to fix this, we owe to ourselves
I love the mere thought of loving you and no one else
Yet you deny me like a child out of wedlock, and your love you refuse to surrender
You promised to be gentle, you knew my emotions were tender
Still you walk away when I ask you to come close
You said you'd love me more, but you end up hurting me the most
I don't know where we went wrong, but I'd love to go back in time to stop the strain
because right now my heart can't take too much more of this pain
When I look at you, I see all the great things that make me love you
And as your reflection, I hope and pray
that one day,
you'll look back and see those things in me, too.

Weekend's Almost Over

2008-07-06T21:20:00.003-04:00

Considering this week has the potential to be seriously busy at work, I figure I may as well post. About what? I don't know, so this might be all over the place, but one thing I pride myself on doing is if nothing else, I entertain and educate through this here blog...edutain, if you will *wink*

Let me start by saying that I've always been willing to admit my flaws, and my obsession with getting those flaws out there has contributed to my ongoing battle to gain self-confidence, I know that. However, one thing I won't allow is people coming at my neck and trying to embarrass me in pathetic attempts at revenge. This person knows good and hell well that I'm talking about them, and since you compared me to a monkey who flings feces when he's angry, let me chuck one last handful of number two your way; For someone to be older than me, you act like the very immature and childish trollups that have made my life a living hell. Say what you want about me and my perceived lack of understanding, but your pitiful little comment is Exhibit A why things fell apart before they even started. So feel free to go find another blogger to stalk and lead on. This particular bank is closed.

In other news, the longer I'm away from home, the more I realize that I had to grow and move sometime. While I'm less than thrilled with things right now, the truth of the matter is living in my mother's house and still working part time would make things even worse. There is the blessing of coming back to an empty apartment where I commence to turning on my kind of music without any problems, a place where I'm free of unexpected annoyances except for me stubbing my toe every 10 seconds. That, along with losing weight again, are the two little things that make me smile. Well that, and a haircut.

I'm not a Tennis guy (obviously unless Venus and Serena are playing), but today's Wimbledon Men's final was the stuff of legend. Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal engaged each other in a battle that obliged us with seven hours and five sets of non-stop action. Nadal finally won something on grass, ending the Rog's five-year run as men's champion. There are some moments in sports truly justify ESPN branding them an instant classic, and this was sho'nuff one of them. I'll still take an NBA game from the late 70s-early 80s as must see ESPNClassic stuff though, LOL

I'm having a ton of thoughts about my professional future and where this road leads me. Hopefully not to a dead end...things are so crazy now, only God knows where all of us in this particular business are headed, but I really can't see myself doing anything else, so I hope to make it work and survive.

I do believe my thing for plus-sized songstresses has taken on a life of its own. First there was Jilly from North Philly, then came my other boo Chrisette Michelle. Now there's another Philly girl burning up the airwaves with her husky voice, and that's Jazmine Sullivan. You might've heard her song "Need You Bad," with the bootleg Patois spoken word and Missy Elliot-produced reggae riddim. If not, I'll be kind enough to hit y'all off with a link to listen to it. She has an amazingly solid voice for 21, and it turns out she's been holding it down for a minute, this is her big break of sorts, being signed to J Records, which is like Superstar Central and having Missy producer her lead single is major. Hopefully she'll make it and bring some more soul to the game.

Well that pretty much covers it, I figured I owed you guys something before I start a hellacious week of work, but as is the case with a lot of things I deal with, they turn out to be not so bad. I hope that's the case this week.

Hello....is it me you're looking for?

2008-07-01T16:34:00.003-04:00

The question comes up often when my well-meaning friends, associates and colleagues are kind enough to listen to my worrisome situations. A question that makes sense in the eyes of many, but has yet to be answered legitimately by yours truly. A question that needs to be answered if I'm ever going to get the ball rolling and start doing what normal people do, I think they call it dating.

"Chris....what type of woman do you like? What are you really looking for?"

I've never really figured that part out. Sounds really silly in the grand scheme of things, right? Well...take a walk with me. Y'all love to do that, right? Cool.

At first glance, I seem to be the (African) American dream in terms of what a single heterosexual male has to offer. College-educated, no children, a career that he enjoys, and his own apartment and automobile. However, at the risk of igniting Jam the realist (it's all love!), I will say that I think back to the Chris Rock special where he was like "Whaddya want? A cookie? 'I take care of my kids...' YOU SUPPOSED TO! LOW EXPECTATION-HAVING MOTHER****ERS!" So I don't hold myself up as being better than this man or that man because I did this and am currently doing that. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of what I've accomplished so far, but I know it's not enough to keep a woman around for any length of time. Those are intangibles that merely serve to get her at least interested in talking to a man.

I think that's where the trouble for me begins because while I have those nice things going for me, I honestly feel that a woman who has HER stuff together could never be interested in me. The thing is, I know black women who've got it going on. My lady friends in Bloggerland and other places are beautiful, intelligent, educated, gainfully employed women who hold their own and don't need a man to survive. Yet and still, they are my friends and of course THEY'RE going to be kind to me...they care about a brother and if he can get it together personally. Who's to say a woman with their same characteristics, yet isn't familiar with me, is going to feel the same way? And everybody's like "well you should go where the women who've got it together hang out at!" And they would be right, but I end up being my own worst enemy because I don't feel I measure up aesthetically to what that type of woman, as dynamite as she is, prefers her mate to be.

So while shying away from women with careers, goals and homes of their own, I find myself chasing after women with multiple baby daddies, living at home with their parents, couldn't care less who Toni Morrison is and use slang and sailor talk all day long. While I may get lucky in a physical sense with them once in a blue moon, most of the time, those are the women who are the ones calling me out of my name and trying to play me for a fool. Now I know you're saying, "well Chris, wouldn't it make sense to stay away from these skip skap skallywop skanks?" (You can thank Vdizzle for that terminology, LOL) Yes it would, but there's that self-imposed wall again.

You only go after what you feel you deserve and/or what you think is easiest to get. It's like that age-old e-mail forward that says the best apples are at the top of the tree, but guys won't climb because they're afraid they'll fall and get hurt (send this to every girl you know who is a good apple and you'll have good luck in a week!...kidding). I'm that guy who is aware of where the good fruit is, but MAN, those branches are a long way up there. So I reach for the fruit that's been there a minute, but is indeed within reach and then I have the nerve to be surprised when the doggone thing is spoiled and sour. Not a good look.

So the obvious solution is one that I've struggled with since at least 16 years old...find some self-esteem and get out there and go after real women, not to mention stop trying to force the square peg in the round hole in terms of sex jumping off. I'm ready to start that process. I owe that much to myself.

So I guess as of July 1st 2008, Chris is looking for self-love, self-acceptance, self-esteem and self-confidence. Then he'll start trying to identify where the good women are hiding. Then again, who's to say they've been hiding at all? Maybe I've just been hiding from the group of women who've been waiting for me to come to my senses for quite sometime now.

A Maxwell Sighting and other BET craziness...

2008-06-25T10:54:00.003-04:00

Now normally, I watch about as much BET as R. Kelly does ID checks, but last night, I was chatting with some friends and the subject was the BET awards. For the second or third straight year, BET put on an outlandishly ridiculous show only to bring it home with a great tribute to a legendary musical figure from back in the day. This year's honoree was the man with the unmistakable voice...and unmistakable kitchen burns, Reverend Al Green. While everyone who performed with one of the kings of Soul did well, there wasn't a dry pair of women's undergarments across America when the homeboy Maxwell sauntered onto the stage and did his thing.

Maxwell's like the Dick Cheney of R&B; NOBODY knows where that man at when something goes down. However, minus his trademark fro, he made an appearance last night and tore the house down. I'm secure enough in my masculinity to admit that Maxwell is a talented dude. Playing a Maxwell album when you have company is the romantic and erotic equivalent to Mariano Rivera in 1998 coming on to the hill for the Yankees; the ULTIMATE closer. Fans of his music have been waiting forever to see if he's still alive, much less ready to release some new material. According to his MySpace page, he's supposed to drop an album at the end of this year. Only time will tell.

About Al Green...can you blame him if he's the only black person in America that doesn't like grits? Just a thought. I mean, you give me a big ol bowl of Cream of Wheat, some sugar and some old Hanna Barbera cartoons and I'm good to go. However, I don't expect whenever Al eats breakfast with family or friends that grits is ever on the menu. "Hey Rev. Al, we got pancakes, bacon, eggs, scrapple...*whispers* dammit Joe, put the hominy box away, now!"

I have a friend, very lovely woman who's also in my chosen profession...who's into Chris Brown. Now ladies, I know the boy just turned 19, but y'all need to stop with the Mrs. Robinson fantasies, it's getting out of control, LOL...on second though, since I have a slight thing for Rihanna....nevermind. Seduce his young ass.

While self-confidence is a beautiful thing, Ashanti kinda sorta took it too far last night when she said she had that "good good." I think that's pretty self explanatory. I mean when you're alone with someone and you kinda want to tell them you've got what it takes to satisfy them (much like me and my offbeat references to my lips and tongue), that's fine. Broadcasting to a few million viewers, not so much.

Alicia Keys is getting thick, and I love it. As I've said before, I have no qualms about dating petite to Big and Beautiful women, so Alicia putting on some weight only makes me lust after her even harder. Jennifer Hudson was off the hinges last night as well. All these fine, thick women with men, I might have to start eliminating cats, Rambo-style.

That's pretty much a summary of the Awards, if you missed it, you know BET's going to replaying 46,000 times, so pick a time, bare through the b.s. and get to the Al Green performance if you can...*sings* Luuuv and Happinesshhhh....yeah....love'll make ya do wrong....but Grits'll make ya call God...

"He's Starting To Heat Up Here..."

2008-06-22T09:25:00.003-04:00

I'm having a bad weekend. I feel fatter than normal, even more unattractive than I already believe I am, and to make matters worse, I scrubbed the skin of my neck sore in the shower yesterday. OCD is NOT my friend. It carried over to my morning stay at the basketball court today. I missed everything at first. Lay-ups, short jumpers, three-pointers and free throws go without saying, I've never been good at those. I got so pissed that I eventually kicked my basketball over the hill behind the courts and took my sweet time to go get it.

As I got it and came back around the side of the hill, I was SO angry, I decided I was going to keep shooting until the net started ripping consistently, which is just what happened. I relaxed, let fly, followed through and let the beautiful sound of swish after swish waft through my ears. My nine foot bank shot from each side of the basket was even hitting after a few minutes. I was finally satisfied with making about 12 of my last 20 shots (60 percent is a GREAT one shooting), so I did my final routine of bouncing the ball of the basket in front of me, driving the length of the floor to the other basket and finishing with a lay-up, and jogging to my car straight ahead.

Moral of the story: Determination. If you REALLY want something to go your way, you'll make it work somehow, someway. I want to apply that determination to things beyond an hour and 15 minutes spent shooting baskets, but I'm still struggling with how to go about it. All I know is I CAN'T quit. If women aren't going to like me, then I need to be ready to spend my life alone and like myself doing it. In the meantime, I'll keep shooting for something. Maybe for my own happiness.

Good Thoughts, Bad Thoughts

2008-06-18T09:18:00.004-04:00

In this ongoing process of becoming a better person physically, mentally and emotionally (I need to throw spiritually in there as well, but baby steps), there are a ton of mishaps and mistakes along the way that you make, but the general idea of those screw-ups is that you learn from them so you don't do it again. Apparently, the bridge-burner that lives inside of me must've scored that memo with the first touch. I have problems swallowing my rage and anger and saying some things that I regret within seconds of them leaving my mouth or fingers. By that time, it's usually too late to take it back and I'm ass-out like a sista wearing a thong. So in another cathartic post, where I lay my cards on the table, I'm going to acknowledge things that I might not want to, but hopefully getting it out in blog form will help me fix this foolishness before I really screw myself over.

For all of my good traits my friends and readers have listed that they see in me, there is a darker side to Chris that usually presents itself at the worst of times. Those dark traits are things that I really don't like, but have come to rely on as a defense mechanism, something like a salve to ease the pain and suffering I feel like I deal with. I guess for all the old soul characteristics I display, the immaturity of having the last word is something that I can't seem to shake. And it's come back to bite me in the ass more often than I'd like.

For one, I'm a very needy person. Yeah, I said it. I feel like if no one tells me they care or that they like me or that they see something good in me, then I must be a total failure. Sometimes that leads to a little -- o.k., we're being honest here, screw it...a lot -- of fishing for positive feedback, compliments, kind words, the desire to have sex with me...it's all a trip. I guess that comes from the lack of self confidence that I'm still dealing with deep into my 20s. I have NO idea what it's going to take for me to find some sort of inner peace and self love, but I welcome the day when that happens.

Also, I'm pretty good at being jealous/envious/a hater. I never really say how I feel at the risk of rocking the boat with the people I care about as friends and family, but EVERY TIME I hear about someone I know entering into a new relationship, especially with someone else I know, I'm like, "God, I wish they'd crawl under a rock." And that's not necessarily a reflection of anger or hatred at them, it's more like "why can't I have what everyone else has?" Or, admittedly, in quite a few cases it is a feeling of "Why didn't she want me? What's so freakin' great about him?" I always feel like the fifth wheel a lot of times because most of the people I know are dating someone or dating each other, and I'm the lone oddball that can't even get a date, let alone a relationship.

Thirdly, sometimey, to quote my mom, is something I do very well, especially when I don't get my way. That girl who hit me with the 90-day rule? Ask me if I've talked to her since she found my blog and got on my case about being selfish and childish. I haven't. I can't tell you how many people -- alright, here's that honest thing again...WOMEN -- have IMed me and sent me e-mails wondering why I don't talk to them anymore. Yet of course, the beauty of being stubborn and abrasive like I can be is that you can pawn off the explanation of "I don't owe anybody anything," as a suitable reply. That's really just my way of saying, "since you have no interest in me beyond friendship, I'm not going to make a fool of myself and my feelings any longer." I guess I become a hypocrite of the highest level when I say I want honesty and truth from women, but I hide behind a cookie cutter reason when the time comes for me to explain myself. Yes indeed, I've got a lot to work on.

My worst transgression, however, is one that I get mad at myself for because I know I'm dead wrong and that I should never let my temporary anger get in the way of potential positive situations. I can be, and have been the cruelest, most ignorant, evil, disrespectful so and so during the course of an argument. Hence the burning bridges portion of this entry. When I'm mad, you'll know it, because I'll say some off the wall stuff that will either make you laugh or really hurt your feelings and question if I'm even the same person I was before the disagreement began. Ranging from "find out who the father of your kids is," to "Good luck working at McDonalds with a degree in communications," I've said some wrong things to women during an argument that usually has to deal with either of the previous two situations before this one.

As I said before, that need to have the last word, the desire to hurt more than I feel hurt is something that has cost me a lot of friends and potential relationships over the years because of my lack of patience and understanding, absence of self confidence, and a general disregard for common sense. As my grandmother used to say, "Common sense ain't that damn common!" Well, at least I know what I need to improve on in the negative aspects of my life as well as lifting up and promoting the positive ones. I just wish I could stop hurting people while doing it.

Eff It Fridays

2008-06-13T14:41:00.004-04:00

A co-worker and classmate of mine at Delaware State University had two days of the week that she really looked forward to -- she called them "Wild Out Wednesday" and "F*** it Friday." Well today, readers of my blog, is my own personal f*** it Friday, and I'm about to list the things I am so over as the mercury inches back up towards 90 here in the depths of hell...I mean Southern Maryland.

Things that Chris is so over:

Obama drama. I can't have an opinion one way or another in my chosen profession, but it is mighty annoying, all the barbs being thrown his way.

The Boston Celtics. Although I am not a Laker fan, it's in my blood to beef with Boston...the Celtics and the Sixers hated each other when my mother was just a small girl. Last night's game was NOT a good look. I can hear the irritating, insufferable and annoying Boston sports fans now. "PAHK DA CAH IN HAH-VAHD YAHD!" I'll just counter with "18-1." I'm so evil, LOL

This heat. Usually in Delaware, the heat wave alerts don't start until after Independence Day. Down here? We've already had one heat wave and gearing up for a second one next week. Wonderful. If nothing else I'll drop about 15-20 pounds of sweat during the summer, which is a good look (I'm just a few measly pounds away from getting back under 3 bills, be proud of me y'all!)

Joan Clayton. While I watched Girlfriends strictly for the lusciousness that is Jill Marie Jones, I did see the episode where Joan (played by the shapely Tracee Ellis Ross) talks about her "three-month rule." Basically, the rule means that she won't sleep with a guy that's she's dealing with for the first three months of the relationship/courtship/kicking it/talking/whatever. I've recently been victimized by this rule and it just reminds me why I'm always in trouble with women. I guess I ain't all that if restrictions are being put on me.

As an extension, I'm definitely over being told how to feel, how to think and what to want. The bottom line is that just because I don't fit the description of Boris Kodjoe, 50 Cent, LL Cool J, LeBron James or whoever women would drop the drawers for, doesn't make me any less of a man with desires, needs, and wants. Or that just makes me a jerk, but whatever.

Portion Control. Damn this is tough. Maybe I've got a tapeworm and don't know it, but it's tough to eat less than what you're used to eating. Eating different foods, no problem. Keep it to a minimum, not so much. Oh well, I'm getting there.

Maryland State Troopers. 'Nuff Said.

Not having cable. With me having to switch car insurance providers, my jonesing for regular TV has been put on hold once again, and I'm really hating it. I catch what I can when I'm in the office, but I refuse to sit here at my desk and just watch something because I can't see it at home. I think it's time for me to sketch out a real budget. I NEED cable.

The length of the Major League Baseball season. 162 games. Ouch. My Philadelphia Phillies currently lead the National League East by three games over the second place Florida Marlins, and I'm so scared they'll choke that the Mets did last year, that getting through these next 94 games (or three-plus months) is going to be a challenge. Pray for me, y'all.

And that's pretty much what I'm over for right now. The way I feel, this won't be the last time I post about what I'm so over. It clears my sinuses.

ETA: R. Kelly found not guilty? I'm SO OVER this pervert and the alleged justice system. I resign from society.

The Price Of Being Raised Right

2008-06-11T08:34:00.002-04:00

As somewhat of a joke, I rep my hometown of Wilmington, Delaware seriously. I can't help but remember the place I spent the first 26 years and three weeks of my life before I embarked on this current journey in October. If you've come in contact with me offline, online, through Blogger, whatever, you can tell that I'm not exactly what Plies would call "street-approved." Considering where I grew up, you'd never believe it.

Much like Anyhood, USA, Wilmington's East Side is faced with deterioration after being pounded relentlessly by the drug game, jobs lost and/or cut along with the White Flight back to the city. Wilmington, once predominately white, turned into a black town during the 1968 riots following the outrage over Dr. King's assassination. Now that Wilmington has become a force in the banking world, urban renewal and gentrification are at an all-time high, and East Side seems to be next on the list for places to be torn down, blacks to be pushed out and whites to be ushered in with a police escort.

I was privy to watch this development, this multi-layered happening from age 10 on, and I was usually the one of the few kids who had a strong family structure that cared what we were doing. My mother, a social worker who dealt with people who felt like her agency owed them money to turn their lights on even though they would spend their money on other things, felt like her kids were not going to be another statistic, so she kept me and my younger sis in after school programs, playing sports, and encouraging us to basically do better.

While we were fortunate enough to have things to distract us from the war zone, my mom did NOT shelter us either. She would tell us about folks she went to school with, use to be pretty/handsome/sharp/slick/fast, and now they're asking folks for a couple of bucks for the next high. It was shocking to see in a lot of cases, and to this day that's why I've never had a drink, much less smoked or sniffed anything.

Before I go any further, this AIN'T a Bill Cosby situation. Never in my wildest dreams will I be removed from inner-city and black life for DECADES, then come running back and telling my people what's wrong with THEM, as if I'm not a part of them or not one of them. I was just fortunate enough to have a mother who cared. I know a gang of kids with the right guidance could be in better positions than I'm in right now.

Such is the dichotomy I'm faced with. I'm proud of where I came from, I'm blessed to have been afforded an opportunity to improve myself. So where do I stand? What side of the fence am I on? Quite frankly, the black side. That's who I am, that's what I'm proud to be, and that's who I want to see excel in the world. The only reason I'm so unsure about these ramblings is that from time to time, my blackness comes into question because of two things; my voice and my upbringing.

My voice, well...Those of you who have heard me on Utterz (blame Jameil) know that despite my heavy stature, dark complexion and strong features, I sound pretty much like a mouse. Or an emo gothic white chick, whichever you prefer. I can't tell you how many times I've either been called Ms. Stevens on the phone or have people's jaws drop when I open my mouth to speak, and that's fine. It's the random "damn you sound white," and "you talk like a white boy" comments that irk my life. Of course that only comes random phone conversations with women I haven't met in person before and it just makes for more self-esteem issues when the "white" thing comes up.

My upbringing, once again I'm fortunate, but I can't help but wonder what life would be like if my mother wasn't as active and involved in our dealings outside of the house? Would I have stayed the course after high school and find my way to DSU and journalism? Would I finally have the courage to speak up and handle my business like an adult should? Sure I might've discovered sex a little quicker, but that's about it. So why do I feel guilty that my mom gave a damn? I have no idea.

The rare times I am back home, I see some guys I grew up with and all they say is "man, you're doing big things, keep it up." And my heart aches for them. Those dudes feel like their lives are over because they're stuck in something right now. I want to say "look, I got lucky. I just was too chicken to do what you guys did, but it ain't over for you yet." Yet and still with a failing economy and laws designed for young black men to fail after making mistakes, I can't help but wonder if I'm hoping against hope.

I've never looked at myself as an Oreo or being special or different because of my voice and upbringing, but I do feel like I question my own blackness because I've never seen my mom strung out on drugs, I didn't have to work odd jobs to put diapers on my younger siblings, and that I never have had the cuffs put on me *knocks on wood*

Another part of me doesn't question it however, because I'm bold enough to check my co-workers on any borderline racist spiel that might be tempted to throw out there, I still think God's greatest creation was the black woman and I'm in love with the idea of the rebirth of a black community (commerce, church, schooling, etc.). I want to see us succeed in the faces obscured by Klan hoods.

So I guess I contradicted my title. There isn't a price to being raised right -- just benefits. Ones that I hope future generations will reap from for a long time.

I'm Not A Basketball Legend, but I play one on TV...

2008-06-08T08:59:00.002-04:00

When I head out to the basketball court down the road every morning, I kinda/sorta like to re-enact at least one NBA play I remember from the countless NBA on CBS/NBC/TNT/TBS/CSN/WGN/WPHL/WWOR/ESPN/ABC (*whew*, that covers about 24 years of basketball fandom) games I've seen in my life. One of my favorites was from the lockout-shortened 1999 NBA season and the Eastern Conference finals. My best friend is a Knicks fan, and they were the last team to make the playoffs in the East, but had upset Miami and punished the Hawks to advance to the conference finals against the Indiana Pacers, whom I hated (mainly because they swept my Sixers in the previous round). I told my boy "I'll be happy if the Knicks upset these goons." As much as he had been through drama with the Knicks before, he said "I'll believe it when I see it."

Game 3, in the Garden. Just about 12 seconds left, Knicks down three, and well...I'll let youtube take it from here...

Great stuff. I snapped in my moms living room that day, and to this day, whenever I get excited about something, I take a quick jog like LJ and then talk to an imaginary Chris Childs like "I know, I know. Gotta hit the freebie."

So this morning while I was out there I took my dribble to the left, faked like a defender hit me, fired the shot...bang. Well, his was straight on, I hit the glass first and it went in. Then, just like LJ I went on my lil' jog stopped at half-court and said "I know, I know. Gotta hit the freebie."

The beauty of being alone with your thoughts and your imagination when you do something you enjoy is that it more often than not, brings out the best in you. Considering I worked for about 12 hours in the blazing heat yesterday (so blazing that when someone handed me a ice cold bottle of water, I put to my head and the steam was so thick you could cut it with a knife), I rightfully could've stayed in bed and still be calling the hogs. Tough to do that when your imagination is calling. And who am I to resist?