the prop 8 blame game

marriage makes me nervous. relationships make me more nervous. the whole “i do” forever, baby becoming a lifetime of fluttery moments but then real work when love’s supposed to be buttery and sugary and warm and effortless like movies and disney magic. and schtuff gets hard when you love your mate more than yourself but they are especially flirty with others and leave you wondering or when all they listen to is like celtic rock and you much rather listen to coltrane or they snore through lightening storms and over the decibels of ambulances outside or they fall asleep during movies or hate your incense or your hair. marriage…makes me nervous. two people deliriously in love with each other enough to make the jump despite occasional schtuff…are we really sane if we really wanna do this thing…forever (gulp)? shouldn’t that be the question? shouldn’t it? which leads me to this year’s election and the promise of better government and proposition 8 and the new blame game.

prop 8 makes same-sex marriage illegal in california. personally, who gives a flying f*ck about who wants to marry? do they love each other? let people marry and be happy. i mean, what harm does it me that anybody wants to marry? i speak this as a christian, also. but what also angers me is that although they comprise only about 6% of california’s population, black people are being blamed for the majority ‘yes’ vote making same-sex marriage illegal in cali. this sort of blame game takes away the real issue at hand and our maturity as a nation. why are ethnic groups being called out? is this valid? i immediately became suspicious and wanted to do some investigating myself.

here’s a good article by teresa morrison published by advocate.com…debunking black blame.

for you

…well, i’m supposed to be working and doing stuff and being productive and involved and all i can do…is this…

for you…the effortless world opener

effortless world opener
by heartbreak

you are my eyes…that i smile behind
a certain beauty and all the time

you are my stars…i long to see
a breathtaking constellation…some particles seamingly made of me

you are my friend…that voice
my psyche’s perfect co-host

you are my heart…that steamy place
you make time and troubles erase

you are my focus…when you shouldn’t be
when i’m running late…feeling out of place
when i’m exuberantly happy or lower than most

you are my tight rope walk…teaching me
life and love is not a harsh narrow lonely single walk
that lines and shades move in and out
that will, experience and communication even us out

you are the other part of my soul
you make me whole…underneath the everchanging part of me.

and…dot dot dot

being told that someone loves your arteries and veins…is like whoa!

my love is like whoa…mya

them internet shady types

can’t quite shake this thing…so if i blog about it, let it out into the atmosphere, just maybe it will fly away. and it was never really anything much…not much at all.

i’m speaking about my ‘so year…2007’ entry and the person that went away. left me with a sordid desire to not be a believer in folk so much anymore. the nothing’s promised promise…that rings true.

i’ve never really been one to believe in internet romance/dating. i mean, it feels weird to really be into someone you can’t see. i love the whole dating thing when it comes to being in that person’s presence. their space. seeing the broadness or leanness of their apartment. seeing what their dishes look like. rummaging through their record collection. watching their idiosyncrasies, remembering their smell. hearing the rise and fall in their voice. cherishing how they say my name. knowing their laugh. watching the contours of their nose move when they smile. the way they dress. the internet can’t really give that … emoticons can’t match what we as people really are. so naturally i am a little shocked that i was all into this internet thing with just some guy who approached me…textually.

i mean, he sorta had me mesmerized by his words. sentiments. his photographs. and who knows, maybe that wasn’t even him…maybe he isn’t even a guy? he could be like a fourteen year old rich kid living in malibu who has decided he’s already bored with life. or it could be a government employee monitoring certain ‘activity’ who decided to use me for her own personal amusement and weak wanton loneliness. i don’t even know.

but to take it for what it seemed to be…i think i was used. i think i was used to get another girl’s attention or vile jealousy. i probably made their love sweeter. he seemed tremendously interested in me. who doesn’t like that attention? so things were moving along…emails became longer, more ‘getting to know you’ information exchanged. he was a writer and had a poetic capture with words and such. and just as things were progressing comfortably and slowly. he said he was busy or had missed seeing my mail or…then nothing. and as far as me, i hadn’t grown more or less clingy or psycho, still cautious…waiting for the cartoon clown to pop out of my computer monitor. that’s how cautious i was. but yeah, after that…nada…nothing. he was the fluffer, i was fluffed and then left alone and ruffled. which is fine. i believe it for the best but i just wonder why me? i was totally fine having a slightly colder inbox. i was so fine being alone. why did he hafta try and mess with that a minute?

i still see his internet presence but he never ‘stops by.’ internet shady types. who needs them and why in the heck was i a believer? but it was still something. it was my intuition that told me something different. but really i just wish that he would have left me alone.

yet every time i smart off dissing the superhighway de informacion…someone tells me how they met their “one” on that same road. my coolest friends tell me they’ve tried it…but i don’t wanna do that no nothing…no more.

i love this song by the way…sure looks good to me by alicia keys

incoming!

up and coming topics in the works…let’s just call this a preview.

–jobfox lives

–cal-i-fornia…guitar hero…beverly hills and young folks – i wanna go back to where from i came. yesterday it was palm trees today it is icy snow. columbus versus LA

–self righteous religious folk who like to argue but don’t listen (my debate pt. one)

wicked wisdom

i adore john mayer. i’ve been listening to his album ‘continuum’ and it is the sorta thing you can zone out to. it is dangerous for me to drive to on a fall afternoon but nonetheless i do. it is also full of love pain of which i don’t always like to swim in.

anyway, i’ve also managed to craft the perfect answer to a pick-up line. it is simply, ‘you wanna know me? me, my insecurities and my issues? read my blog, it’s a to be continued.”

here’s ‘i don’t trust myself (with loving you)’ by john.

it is wicked wisdom.

JOHN MAYER

“I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You)”

No I’m not the man I used to be lately
See you met me at an interesting time
If my past is any sign of your future
You should be warned before I let you inside

Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through
Hold on to whatever you find baby
I don’t trust myself with loving you

I will beg my way into your garden
I will break my way out when it rains
Just to get back to the place where I started
So I can want you back all over again

Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through
Hold on to whatever you find baby
I don’t trust myself with loving you

Who do you love?
Girl I see through, through your love
Who do you love me or the thought of me?
me or the thought of me?

Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through
Hold on to whatever you find baby
I don’t trust myself with loving you

Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever gets you through through
Hold on to whatever you find baby
I don’t trust myself with loving you
I don’t trust myself with loving you
I don’t trust myself with loving you
I don’t trust myself with loving you

- -

- -

stay fun!

that wicked mix

i wasn’t even gonna blog today, but i guess the wind had its way and here i am. just sharing something that had been rumbling underneath, needing air…needing to be set free. maybe like a silent prayer.

i realized something. i feel the supremacy of my friends. i am so grateful for them that if they’d all disappear today, neglect me, leave me, lose me, forget me…i could still fly, i could still float off the memories of them and our experiences together. their support. their love. and that’s an astonishing feeling. they bring that kinda fire…that enchanting, mysterious charge, that charming fluff that makes life that much more engaging. when i don’t even realize it, immediately…i’m touched later. i see this thing unfolded…yielding love. and when i do catch it…see it…i cherish it days, months, years later. i’ve been just truly blessed by them. and i am the kinda cat…that when ‘things’ didn’t work out…i can still thank God for those times…those times i still walked away with not only experience and hopefully wisdom…but still with something tangible, appreciated and lovely.

don’t get me wrong…i have been to a place where i felt like the loneliest person on the entire planet. i know what it feels like to experience coldness and a chill to life that offers no seeable escape. i know what it’s like to feel frozen, dark, crushed, bruised, battered, unloved, rejected, isolated. down, dark. a point that is the lowest of all possible lows. where there is no one. just self, sitting in a gloom of misery, no desire, no hope…i know what that is. i’ve been there. not because of a person, but only circumstance. and i’ve been to that place of pure contentment, almost a dizzying, seductive, enlightenment that contained a bit of heaven. it held a luxury of its own wealth. it was like having a super power. a feeling like standing on the tip of the tallest mountain and believing that if i had jumped just a bit to the left, the feeling would have caused me to fly.

and i’d rather have both…that wicked mix.

down here in…

rented/watched a movie i had purposely stayed away from renting. ‘the last kiss’

which was surprisingly good. and why do i have a new thing for christian eric olsen (he’s such a bad guy in this flick)? (is he related to those twinzos?). and i didn’t know how i felt about zach braff because i didn’t like ‘garden state’ at all. but he brings this kind of charming post-grunge intellectual common man, new intellect to ‘the last kiss.’ anyway. the film was interesting because it tied into a relationship topic i had last week about how pleasant relationships can be…until we bring our mess. then in comes the drama…when we could just be having fun. why do we do that?? and is it okay to cheat? to get it out of our lusty systems…and if our relationship still works…it was just meant to be? no…i’m sure it’s just hollywood doin’ that fairy tale thing again.

brings me to a video pick…a steamy video pick…ties in again and again.

van hunt (a re-post ‘cause the song is killer). it’s ‘down here in hell’

race conscious pt 2

i’ve discovered i have a bad blog habit of starting topics and not looping in their closure. here’s an update about samantha and her comments that made me feel hyper-sensitive if only for a short time about my race. the simple fact that a stranger would wanna go ‘there’ was disconcerting.

so i’ll call this post…race conscious pt 2 aka i really don’t wanna be a prick

the racial banter had still left me with a bit of tainted fury. i still had animosity and i felt it was well-deserved. the cooler someone seems the harder the hit.

my other self…my alter ego started dialoging with me like this:

‘dreamer! wake up! not everybody thinks like you’

‘really what she said wasn’t all that bad’

‘well maybe she didn’t understand how you would interpret what she said’

‘why do you care anyway? her uncouthness and movie line quote…let her dance in her own racial single-minded misery’

‘she’s young, she didn’t know’

‘she’s white, she didn’t know. she didn’t even think about it’

‘everybody knows not to discuss race and religion in public. she should not have gone there’

‘make her watch ‘jungle fever’ and dig out an old tupac mix tape’

‘find old releases of that old fx show produced by ice cube called ‘black and white’ where a white family and a black family had to literally switch their racial appearance. and the whole series turned into a highly psychological depressing yet informative study’

needless to say, in the verbal haze, i carved out my own stratagem.

i decided that because i am a far cry from a perfect person, i shouldn’t expect anyone else to be…perfect. flawless. and that in my own life i’ve been given a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th chance as well as many more additional chances.

the best way to influence a better racial understanding is to allow her to be her and me to be me. but to also refuse to be a prick with an attitude about something that no one knows but me. and maybe through the observance of that, the perspective will change. maybe through learning me she and i will become more conscious of what we say to who and when.

if we don’t try to analyze what intimidates us, or scares us. if we don’t question what bothers us, or what we don’t understand, we just will not grow. our lives are diminished and we lose out on the richness that people have to offer regardless of race, regardless of gender, class, and so on.

so today we took a trek to the other building. three of us. we were talking about the news and samantha said she actually wanted go protest for the jena 6.

who would have thought?

http://freethejena6.org

my new job

i’m a bit frustrated. somehow i’ve become a dating guru. unwittingly. you’d be surprised at how often i’m approached and inundated about seemingly sweet or deceptively crude yet questionably romantic behavior. dating questions. i’m not even sure how it happened. i am asked a heckuva lot and i try and front like i know what the crap i’m talking about. i should almost charge. i’m asked to read text messages from lovers to lovers, i’ve been asked to decipher the frequency of texts sent in a day, and i’ve read emails and have been shown pictures for the sake of commenting on someone’s sanity. i feel like a freakin’ dating counselor. you’d think people would actually call up someone who was wiser than i about the woeful wiles of young and old love.so i sit there, partly for free entertainment and listen. i nod, i smile. i’d actually fully enjoy it if i didn’t have a lot of other stuff to do in my own freaking life.

but mostly after they’ve successfully released the stuff they wanted to get my thoughts on. and after i am asked about tons of scenarios, shown messages that are about ‘last night’ and after i’ve thought about it and given some sort of slightly cohesive mend. they walk away…seemingly satisfied. ‘thank you,’ they say. and i smile. inwardly jealous.

and i sorta sit there in the aftermath…of a lusty love haze of smoke. and i wanna like, kick stuff. i need someone too to ramble about to someone. i want a sickening amount of text messages more than my phone could ever hold, i want to find IMs on my work computer at a strange time when the ‘mystery’ someone knows i’ve not yet arrived for work. i want that…dayum! double dayum!!

i mean, i get a little side of this and that and recently a lusty lusty email from someone that i ponder the sanity of the author. i want more! i don’t want the job as a counselor/matchmaker no more…no more…no more. and i say this until i turn around and someone’s holding a large coffee and asking me about a ‘he’ or a ‘she’ and oh, “what are you doing this weekend, guess what?’

*actually i like it. who am i kidding?