Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Can't Stop, Won't Stop

I sat in pee. It was gross. But I did it. Normally…I would have been ridiculously outraged…I mean who wouldn’t. But for some reason…I just moved to another seat and continued to be taken in by the…Takers. I got some free movie passes and some free concessions out of it but…I am still wondering when I started to believe it was ok to marinate my behind in someone else’s urine.
I just grossed myself out with that thought.

It’s still thunder and lightening like God’s furious with…you all. Like y’all done stole his money and his woman... that is, if God was a man…who had a woman…and needed money.

When it rains...hell, even when it doesn't rain...these little critters are everywhere. So far, this is the closest thing I've seen to an alligator.

I haven’t had any new dates since…July 14th. I have been on one looonnnG constant date with one guy…still trying to figure out when I unknowingly came into this relationship and plopped my ginormous behind down all up in it…like the pee. Not that I am comparing my new found relationship to piss…just sayin’.
With that said, let me try and describe how this relationship is going. You see, I haven’t been in a bonafide relationship since I left my husband 10 years ago. As you readers (umm, those who even bother to come on over anymore)…I have been living the single life for so long. Yes, yes I have had long term indiscretions…long term for me being the standard 3-6 months…with the exception of Darrell. But come on…we can’t count that as a relationship once we found out he was happily married. So everything for the past 10 years has been casual at best. I’ve never had a problem getting a man…a willing man. My problem has always been getting rid of the man once his expiration date became due.
Well, here I am…and yes, I realize that I am still within my standard dating expiration time line…the strange part is that…well…I am not dating anyone else and don't really want to.
Although I might very well pull down my panties on Canal street and bend over for the "Ideal"…should he call and should he want to see me and should he want to “be” with me…I’d do that. Maybe.
So it’s with that exception that I am in a relationship. Granted that is a huge exception…but I am pretty positive that it won’t go down like that.
So…I gots me a man. I man’s man who fixes shit and who works with his hands and who talks to me softly. Even when I am going off on him about silly bullshit…which I find myself doing regularly. I keep telling him that being in something that’s bonafide…isn’t usually my M.O.
So I am a little rusty on being someone’s woman… I mean I think I have been up on keeping reserve skills for so long…belonging to someone…just one man…well…I am not all that used to that role yet. Matter of fact, we were out the other night at a kareoke spot and he mentioned that I hd been flirting with one guy inparticular...umm, I might have but purely out of being social rather than I was interested. IDK *shrug* I tell him all that time, I am trying, so be patient. I’ve dealt in multiples (meaning multiple men)…not in couples stuff. And why did that just sound all sexual and whatnot…it wasn’t meant to be. Which brings me to my next topic…
Can one be in a relationship and not be sexual…well sexual meaning insertion…not meaning no orgasms or sperm.
I am still all over the place in my thinking about this situation. This particular man comes with some deal-breakers…things that normally would have been a reason to walk the other way. Yet, I stay. I see the good in him, I see his efforts, I see his potential. Not potential to be what I want, but potential for him to be and have what he wants. Oddly, I got his back... if he needs that.

It’s official, I am an alcoholic. I say that with a straight back and head held high. No joking and no making fun of… Now when I say alcoholic please don’t picture me stumbling the streets of New Orleans with a months worth of stubble and in a stupor… I am functional in my shit, yo! Budda, I do walk the streets of New Orleans in a drunken stupor. Every time I say I am not going to drink anymore, I wake up the next day and I am hitting up one of the many daiquiri shops. It is hard to not drink unless…well unless you have a life…which I do not possess. Even with a man…I am lifeless. So to speak. I am sure if I had a job…I’d also be a gambling addict as well. When I said that this was a land of debauchery the likes of Sodom and Gomorrah, I wasn’t kidding.

I won two tickets from Spike Lee to attend his premier of IGIWATCDR which aired on HBO the 23rd & 24th.
He didn’t personally give them to me…some marketing company in NYC sent them to me. He gave them only to New Orleans residents. The Man and I went.
We shmoozed with the “elite” of New Orleans. I am proud to say that despite what you may think of New Orleans and it’s ghetto-fabulousity…there are some very well-to-do, intelligent and pretty people here. However, it was my first time seeing them since I have been here, since my nose has been wide open all up in The Man’s hind parts to meet anyone of caliber. He’s a working man…with his hands type of man…not in an office type of man that I am usually used to. So…who he knows is more along the lines of 7th Ward versus mid-town Manhattan. He calls me bougie…but it’s not been the first time that someone has said that about me. Some of my closest friends say the same. I don’t know what they are talking about because I have got down and hung out with some pretty grimey people…lol That sounded bougie didn’t it. Akin to, some of my best friends are black…lol
Either way, there were cheers, boo’s and tears a plenty in the Mahalia Jackson Theater. There was much pride…much angst…and much sorrow in that theater as we viewed the series that Spike made. I still cry when I see the inhumanity in the way that our government treated it’s citizens. And still…walking the 9th Ward is no treat…matter of fact, the streets of the 9th Ward aren’t necessarily walk-able…overgrown with greenery that hasn’t been cut by the city since Katrina…so some streets just come to an abrupt stop…you come face-to-face with a wall of weeds taller than a house…in the middle of the street.

I have yet to venture out of New Orleans other than the standard suburban areas that are close by…Metarie, Kenner, Harvey…blah blah blah. I have seen Rebirth Brass Band (pic above) and heard Trombone Shorty…gone to Bullets to listen to Kermit Ruffin >>> (both singing their version of Louis Armstong's St James Infirmary)
Sat on a hot Saturday afternoon as rain lightly sprinkled and heard Bradford Marsalis playing his horn…I have listened to zydeco and taken in all that which Nawlins is known for musically.
I’ve attended the White Linen Art Party, the Dirty Linen Party, the Red Dress Run, the Satchmo Jazz Festival and eaten too much of this fattening food. By the time I break loose from this joint…I will be plump’r to say the least.

I don’t feel like I am home yet…still feels like an extended vacation. I am waiting for the home feeling to set in. Maybe once I get a job and really establish myself...but now...eh.