Here is my counter. Here is my tequila and fancy shot glass on my counter. I have decided that I need to dull some ‘feeling’ - therefore I am going to do a new kinda meme, lol This Saturday evening, I am going to do five shots and with each one I am going to give a thought, lol Anybody else wanna play?
SHOT ONE
Is it some kinda blackwoman creed that we just don’t listen if it’s not something we already think we know?! Damn! Why must we be so set in our ways even if the shit is ignorant?! Especially when it comes to men, relationships and how we are doing something? We automatically just freeze the fuck up and go on automatic. I wish that personality trait was not a part of our being. There are women spending years in six levels of bullshit cause they ‘think they know’. Then they will actually ask and you waste all this time giving another perspective only for it to go in one ear and out the other. I am guilty of it on a certain level. Caun will give me his opinion/wisdom/understanding about something and I just get tight. This is an emotional reaction and there are various grades of it that come with being female, but then there is that ‘extra’ that sistas put on it. I am going to work on that. I can’t continue to have growth if I can’t even ‘hear’ something that might be beneficial to me.
SHOT TWO
Are we broadening our horizons or insisting on living in the box called our life? As much as I think I know, it’s small in comparison to the size of the universe and the number of people in it. Just because it doesn’t either make sense or involve the circumference of my life, doesn’t mean that it’s discounted. I think the definition of an intelligent person is one who can look at things from the outside in and not the inside out. I want to be one who has that ability, in doing so it makes my own world that much bigger and gives me alot more room to think.
SHOT THREE
I am so disappointed in the way I have handled doing things for myself. Both of these things are IN THE CRAPPER! I walked around the mall today as if I had just go out of prison. You already know the mall fucks me up anyway - so I should have went with my gut and stayed my ass home. I’m standing in the store, seeing the style and the way I would like to dress and carry myself. I see that sista walking down the mall floor with a couple of bags and though she might be just as busted in the wallet as me - right that second on the surface I wanted to shuck all of this and be her - strolling in the mall in an outfit that costs more than $20, with her hair/nails/feet done. Looking put together. I’m about to totally change my focus and get my shit together. Coming into 42 is not gonna be on the busted trail.
SHOT FOUR
My thoughts have been about the what if’s. I don’t have any regrets but yea I think about what would life be if I had of went on to Spelman, if I had of stayed in Atlanta and never moved up north. Then it will turn and I’ll be like what if I had been widowed and didn’t have a child to raise - would I have stayed in NY? Would i just be an urbanite? Would i have moved back to Atlanta living in something downtown, on the list to move into Atlantic Station. Would I be that well educated, halfway good job, manless woman? Would I be hanging with a fly set of sistas and we would travel, hang out and what not? What if I lived the life I just mentioned and met CAUN? What if?
SHOT FIVE
Don’t think marriage alleviates a woman from all fear. Some women replace it with new fear or for some women repressed fears surface. I still get scared..sometimes very scared. I am responsible for so much. I am at a point in my life where you start to begin the process of evauluating exactly what the fuck have you done with the first half, because it is now when that stuff starts to be relevant. It’s like getting a tat at 16 that says pookie across your neck and now you 42 and about to get promoted to VP and you standing there looking like who shot john with that ignorant pookie on your neck. If you started out fucking up your budget, when you get to that point where you want a home, you want a yearly vacation, you want a savings account, you want free money to get those shoes on sale, this is where that shit rears it’s ugly head. If you said exercise isn’t for you then you look up at 42 and you are overweight, diabetic and just can’t seem to get it together knowing damn well you are shortening your life daily, this is where that shi rears it ugly head.
Well there you have it the Five Shot Challenge. I am feeling so fucking hot right now. That Tequila is straight from Cozumel and it’s doing it’s thang. Alot, no most of my drama, is self induced. We just going through a bump in the road, but because in all honesty, my life remains pretty much status quo - I freak out when there are disruptions. I don’t work at presenting my self as a student of fabulocity, I work at keeping from allowing shit to seep in and take me off my game. I am off my square this evening folks. Now some folks might have a drink at the notion that I got issues, I laugh because I’ve never said I didn’t, but you want me to have the type and volume of issues others have and that ain’t where I’m at. Some will embrace my naked shot ridden post as the realness that is Pamalicious. Either way, just another chapter in the continuing Adventures of Pamalicious…
Well Well Well - we all have made it to another Friday - Thank God. I did no writing yesterday because (1) I couldn’t find the time and (2) I really didn’t have anything to say. Blogging goes like that sometimes. It’s a dreary day outside, but my heart feels pretty good. I decided just to stop worrying about shit. Well let me get the flow a go going.
