Musings (1)

A lot of my time I spend thinking. My mother thinks it's a bad thing (because I think and don't live in her opinion) but I think (see what I did there?) that those who act without thought are usually the ones who end up somewhere they don't want to be. Not every thought I have is gonna take me somewhere, but I muse a lot of the time (mostly between classes) and figured I should start keeping lists of them. So here goes!

1. How much is respect really worth? I know there are men who die for respect and fights get started over it, but with me being me and being respected so much by objects of my affection...it just doesn't seem to cut it. "I respect you" is like the new way of saying "You're awesome, but I wouldn't date you" at least by the dudes in my age bracket. Does it mean something else once you get older?
2. Teaching is calling me but I'm trying to ignore the call. I don't want to get caught up in the "Rah rah!" of it all and forget that, as an advanced student, I was completely privy to all the crap teachers have to put up with, not just from parents but other teachers, their kids, the school, the board, the state... When children are getting progressively dumber with each passing generation (google it - it'll scare the crap out of you) and parents tending to coddle and throw them to the lions so to speak, that leaves a small window of opportunity for educators to try and pull something out of these kids. I think I have the moxy for it, but I'm so damn anal about everything I think I'd get disillusioned really quickly. And I don't even like kids.
3. There are a lot of creepers out there. A lot of creepers. From the ones who leer at me from car windows, to the ones who call me their soul mate after knowing me two days. I know logically not every dude I meet is going to be a creeper, but it's gotten to the point I expect dudes to be creepy which is so no bueno. For instance I met a guy at school who seemed perfectly normal. Asked me out on a date, super polite, all that jazz girls really like, right? Wrong. He called me that whole first night, texted me that whole next day, and invited himself over to my house (without the directions, cause please believe I'm not that far behind the curve) when I told him emphatically that I like to go slow. *facepalm* I realize you gotta kiss a lot of frogs to get your prince or whatever, but this parade of froggy creepers is starting to look like a sign of the apocalypse.
4. I wanted to be a home-maker today. See, everyday, because I don't know what I want to do with my life (though everyone around me assumes I should by now) I go through careers in my head, or what I know of them rather, and see if I could fit there. Housewives are cool unless they're being televised from every major and minor city/town/province in America; they maintain the house, which sounds easy but requires lots of planning and charts and calendars. I could do planning and charts and calendars. But later, I went to a Chinese restaurant and opened my fortune cookie and it said "Avoid uncomplicated jobs; they will squander your talent." Really though? The one time I even open a fortune cookie and it has to be relevant like that? On to the next one then...
5. I don't like outings with my mother. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly. But sometimes I just look at her and wanna hug her throat. She tells people things about me in a tone that says "Isn't that the stupidest thing you ever heard?" or "Mmhm, right like she can do any of that." No, before you go there, that's not what she says, but it's all in the tone. I also don't like how she volunteers me for things; her friends will need a baby sitter and she'll say "Oh, Tes can do it, she's not doing anything." Okay, that may be true, but who says I want rugrats intruding on my nothingness? I feel like the Bentley to her Diddy, and even Bentley got tired of getting wet after awhile. That's all I'm saying.
6. I need to get a interesting job. I'm sending out resumes and calling a bunch of places but I keep getting the same answers. I don't like to tell people that I'm trying, because then they impose themselves onto, into and all around my plan; I like to have my ducks in a row before I tell anybody, which I don't see anything particularly wrong with...but is it wrong? Do people need to know what I'm doing for their own peace of mind?
7. I want to live in a cabin with running water and Internet, with an awesome antique bookstore in the town a few miles away from it. I don't know where I'm gonna find it, how I'm gonna afford it, or even if it's possible, but I am surely going to try my hardest to get it.

What about you guys? How often do you just muse on things? And what do you think about children getting dumber, or rather, what do you think we can do as a community and country to reverse that? Can fortune cookies give good advice? Am I wrong for wanting to plan things out before I tell people (even if that prohibits movement for the time being)?

XoXo,
Tes

Knowing and Understanding = Two Different Things

When I was sixteen, I knew absolutely everything. Mom would tell me to do my homework and I'd say "I know Ma." Dad would tell me I needed to get up for school and I'd say "I know Dad." Sometimes they wouldn't even finish their statement and I would interrupt with "I know!" And it was the truth, I did know, but I usually didn't understand.

I never knew how infuriating that must be - to have someone say "Yes, I know," and know that they didn't understand. My best friend and I have this circular discussion about once a month about how I feel and what I think and I swear, if she was sitting next to me when we were talking about it, I'd hug her throat.

The conversation is one of love and life, living and existing. I think too much, says she, and I don't go out and do enough in my life. Friend or no friend, that's wrong; how are you going to tell me what I am and am not doing? What I do and do not feel? And the more she talked, the madder I got. I told her that she didn't understand and she said she did, but the more she talked the more I realized she didn't.

She doesn't understand what loneliness and fear feel like inside of my soul, she only knows what they feel like for her. She doesn't understand where I'm coming from because she doesn't understand or even know where I am in my life at this point. Eventually I told her the conversation was over, because we were getting nowhere with each other and the conversation ended (for this month at least).

She knows who I am and what I think about most things, but she does not, for all that knowledge, understand that much about me, or not as much as she thinks she does. And the more she says she does the more I feel like she's belittling anything I've said prior or anything I could say after to the point where I just shut down on her which benefits neither of us.

There are parts of me, parts of my soul that are so hidden from other people because I fear the let down that I feel always comes with trusting people. I fear moving too quickly; those who move quickly make rash and usually wrong decisions. I fear becoming a catlady, especially when it seems everyone around me is pairing off like they've gotten the call for the Ark and I didn't. She knows. I know she knows. But does she understand? Does she feel it? Does she hear it? Does it keep her up at night like it does for me? No. And I don't think it ever will, which is why I don't like having that conversation with her, because not only does it not go anywhere, it takes me down into those deep dark parts of me that are so hard to get out of and so hard to shake. If she understood, she wouldn't take me there for nothing but the fact that she frequently does just lets me know she doesn't and there's nothing I can do about that.

Is empathy only valid if we've been there ourselves? Is compassion wasted if it can't be reciprocated to those we're compassionate to the right way? Am I being too hard on her?
Talk to me,
Testorshia

Expect From Others What You Expect From You

Recently my best friend and I were having a conversation about expectations. As I have next to no valid dating experience (in my opinion), I told her I was lowering my expectations of men so that they can lower their expectations of me. She liked my rant so much she quoted it (which makes it easier for me to remember and requote here).

"I'm lowering my expectations of men," I said, "So they can lower their expectations of me. I can't be thin with a 42 inch *ss, I can't be a size six in shoes, nor enjoy cooking and exercise more than I do eating. I can't be some Gabrielle Union/Zoe Saldana looking chick with a p*nis in my mouth and a skillet in my hand. It's ridiculous, there's no point, and it's highly unlikely that any of that can happen in the span of time he'll want it to."

Sure, it was a tirade, but I had a lot of valid points.

1) Unreachable expectations affect everyone. Women, if you yourself are not a Nicki Minaj in the body but you want a Morris Chestnut/Denzel Washington looking somebody, you get a major side eye. Where's the reality in that? How do you expect someone of that caliber to even find you? Work on it. Work at it. If not, give that cute but slightly gap-toothed brotha a chance!

2) Acknowledging your faults doesn't make them go away, but it makes them a hell of a lot easier to work with and get over. I've always envied how men can know something is wrong with them and still just roll with it. I once asked a dude what his flaws were and he said "I'm a little knock-kneed, but my girl digs it. That's about it though." Done. How many women can do that? Further, how many women have just one thing? I know I have a laundry list of "not enough this, too much that" but I learned once you just look at it and say "Yep, that's me" and roll with it, it never seems as big as it was before.

3) Reachable expectations yield more results than unreachable ones. The best friend frequently tells me I don't know what I really like in men because so few get to be close enough to me to know. Since I'm not looking for an Adonis with a PhD in deep thought and cuisine it opens up my options that much more, and thus, let's folks get to know me much more than they normally would.

In short though, expect from others what you expect from yourself. That laundry list of "must-haves" from years ago is now a dwindled down post-it of "would-likes," and I'm much happier for it.


XoXo,

Testorshia

I'm a Slacker

And I'm so sorry for that. As it turns out, I write a lot, but always forget to post up. Go figure, right?
In any case, I'm back with a few new stories to tell...starting sometime next week. I've been doing a lot of transitioning lately; I got into a comm. college a bus ride and a mile walk away, I'm transitioning into natural hair, and still constantly on the prowl for jobs that require typing and nothing fried. I say all this to say I've been busy, but busy doesn't mean I neglect the blog. Shame, shame on me. Until tomorrow! (Or Monday...or...you know what? We'll see. [I kid I kid])

XoXo,
Testorshia

Some Things Never Change

So it's here. The day that all families either dread or look forward to all year for one reason or another: Thanksgiving. On this Thanksgiving though, like most forcibly dragged people, I'd rather be anywhere but where I am. On a technicality, it's not even my biological family I'm with anyway and that got me thinking of places I'd rather be.
I recently moved back in with my mother, but before I got here I was staying in Fayetteville with my dad (on and off as he's in the military). I'd rather be there. Most likely I'd be alone as he's saving the world, with a store bought mini-turkey and side dishes from any restaurant opened the day before turkey day. I'd be watching t.v. under a fluffy blanket, candles lit, and content. I'd be alone, and perfectly at peace. Instead, I'm surrounded. Completely. Children are climbing over my legs, tweens are looking over my shoulder, and adults are asking me how to download movies and music. They love me here, but suffice it to say, I don't love it here.
I've always been a loner; in kindergarten I'd play with the other children for awhile before going off on my own under the jungle gym or by a tree to draw or read or just watch clouds go by. Sooner or later though, the other children and the teacher would eventually find me and drag me back into their world of "now now now." Nothing has changed with age; no matter where I go, someone always finds me and in my opinion it's a curse disguised as a blessing.
When I'm alone, I get to be who I always am. I get to think and to be mellow. I get to dream and to plan. I get to focus and most of all I get to de-stress. But people always find me, and when they do, it's immediately my job to listen to them, fix them, or entertain them. And I always turn it on. I make 'em laugh. I make 'em cry. I kill it, no matter the mission at hand. Once it's done and they're gone, more show up and I don't get to turn it off again until I'm home and even then some of them find me there. That's not to say I find people a burden (though I do. Most of them anyway.) My few friends are the only exception because with them, I still maintain that sense of self and am who I am instead of who they want me to be.
And there's the key. I'm always who everyone expects me, needs me, or wants me to be. Rarely am I completely myself, because few of them need that. They need a big sister, a mother figure, a counselor, a lap-dancer. They need pieces of me.
So this holiday season, it's my resolution to be me. A loner. Take me where you want to, lead me to where you want to, but don't expect much more from me than this: to be there and not there at the same time.
How do holidays effect your mood or thought processes? Do you consider yourself a loner or a social person?
Let it marinate, and get back to me
-Testorshia

Don't Complain About the Fish If Your Bait Ain't No Good

I ran across a Facebook status today, not unlike all the others I come across, saying the usual "Men ain't sh*t", "Women confuse the hell out of me" and the like. Then I realized, maybe nobody ever told folks the straight up and up on relationships. Maybe they just didn't understand it. Trust me, I've had many a person say some "Tes, that's deep" and not know what it was I said. I'm gonna lay down some knowledge, if I may...
To the ladies: Men treat you the way you let yourself be treated. If you ever wonder why a man disrespects you and acts like it's nothing, consider the fact that you may act like it's nothing. How's he going to know not to treat you like some h*e on the street if you keep letting him? The answer is, he won't. Speak up. Don't let it pass and pass until one day you pull an Al Green on him and leave him wondering what the hell just happened. Something as simple as "I don't appreciate that, don't do it anymore," could solve the problem. Just let it be known. And if he violates that boundary, leave him. Disrespect is only a few steps down from the relationship "Hell no's" we as women have been told to avoid since the beginning of time. Keep in mind that this dude who doesn't respect you is taking up the space of the next man who just might.
To the gentleman: Let chivalry live. I know in the age of independent women some women may not want you to pull out their chairs or open their doors. If you were raised that way, respectfully tell them so and continue to do you. As much as some women protest, a lot of women actually complain about that very thing. Plus, nobody likes a push over. If a woman kept changing because you told her to, a few years into it you'd be bored (I hope?). You'd want an individual. Someone with her own mind. Treat chivalry like that. Nice guys don't always finish last, but when they do, it's because they realize the "prize" they were fighting for wasn't worth all their devotion, or they found something better.
Also ya'll, keep in mind nobody likes a boring, needy person. If your life's purpose is finding a spouse and having them complete you, most people will either be terrified or turned off.  Find out who you are first before trying to be something or someone to anybody else. Be interested in things other than what that person is interested in. Be interesting in your own right. Be interesting for yourself. Nobody wants someone who doesn't seem to even want themselves.
Finally (and most important might I add), remember your bait for the fish you're trying to catch. If you want someone who's healthy, has a nice body, a few degrees and in a Fortune 500 company, do that for yourself first. Expecting all that from somebody who's supposed to be interested in you and not expecting those same standards for yourself is setting you up for the big let down. Don't be afraid to be an attractive person, not just physically but personality wise as well. Nobody likes a brotha/sista with an attitude for no reason. It's okay to smile. It's okay to be polite. You attract what you put out, or as Nana used to remind me "Don't complain about the fish if your bait ain't no good."
XoXo,
Testorshia

You've Been Dating 4 Days: It's Not Love, It's Newness

Call me a killjoy, but I was over high school before middle school was even half way through. Everyone was pretending to be grown up, doing and saying grown up things without being prepared for consequences or really knowing what they were doing would really mean to them later on in life. With that said I was a late bloomer and I didn't have my first "boyfriend" until freshman year of college.
He lasted six days. He was insecure about my friends and what they were doing and what they thought of him more so than what I was doing and what I thought of him. Truth be told, we had nothing in common. He liked me, I liked that he liked me, so I went along with it. And on the fourth day, he said it. Yes, it. And I mentally wretched.
I didn't love him back. How could I? I didn't even know him. We were dating. In my mind dating is getting to know someone, letting them get to know you, and eventually seeing where the chips fall in the end. Dating is not clinging desperately to a person when you're lonely in hopes that they love you. Before you think it, no I'm not an anti-romantic, quite the contrary. If a man can come to me, make me smile and want to be in his presence consistently, I'll be the mushiest romantic the world has ever seen. As it stands though, "Hey shawty" and "Pssst!" don't constitute either of those. Call me rigid, but if you can't treat me like a lady and not some random street walker, I'd say we have next to nothing in common and you get no play.
Back to the subject at hand. Four days and it was love for him. By day five I knew it wasn't going to work out. I spent the night pondering, thinking, wading through my emotions. By day six I told him I didn't think it was going to work out. Day seven he was on my phone wanting me back, but that's a different blog for a different day.
What I mean to say is, love happens on it's own time. No amount of rushing, wanting, praying, fasting, nor sacrifice will bring it to you when you want it. There is nothing more annoying than that associate who's in love after three days of knowing the person and a McDouble.
I wanted to say to him "Say bruh, it's been four days. Pump your brakes." Instead, I let him think it was his idea to break up and let it happen the way it happened. I didn't want to hurt his feelings and tell him in addition to his clinginess, he was possibly the worse kisser ever, but that's also another blog for another time.
I guess what I'm saying is, stop all the madness. Let it happen on its own. A watched pot never boils. Being infatuated with something new, and being in love are rarely if ever the same thing. What do you think? Does newness cloud the judgement of people, or is it actually a love jones going on? Think on it, and get back to me.
XoXo,
Testorshia