DSP

I read an interesting story today. Although what I found interesting I’m sure not too many women probably even think on the subject. When having sex, some men have a mantra to keep them from cumming so quickly. Now as far as I know women don’t have this mantra hell most time we’re just hoping that we can at least get half a nut, sometimes even a sensation of one.

Now some of the men I’ve been with really needed one. There was one in particular, if I had known about this mantra thing I would have taught him one. I just re-read that statement “some of the men” make it sounds like a lot doesn’t it. It’s been more than one but not more than 10 I’m sure. I could count but why scare myself. Any way back to the mantra. There was this one man he did not need a mantra, sometimes I wondered if he would ever stop banging.

So the next time you feel your man on verge of nutting, yell out something not to do with sex at all, sport terms, what colors you need to paint the walls, hell try repeating your grocery list. Let me know if it works.

I hope that you have a good New Year, that the New Year will bring you health, especially mental health, that we continue to be in each other lives and that our friendship doesn’t become stagnate. I pray that I find the love in my life that I’ve wanted, and that the love you have in your life continues to grow. I pray that my faith grows.

Each year I make the same resolution: To be the best me I can be. But this year I want to remind myself of my mantra I used to have it posted on my desk but this past year I didn’t. My mantra:

Beauty is in the eye of the holder, and I am the beholder; I am the best me there is; I am a phenomenal woman. This year I kind of forgot those words of wisdom.

When I look back at this year I see some major things that could have happened that didn’t. I almost lost my friends. Not that I did anything to harm them, it was just that we all kind of went our own way, they had problems and I had problems. One I even tried to get rid of and one I just couldn’t get a hold of. But God works. He didn’t let us go. He gave us the love of each other and the power to hold tight through our difficult times.

I fell in love. I fell in lust and even though that didn’t work the way I thought it would it is still ok. My patience have been tried with family but we are still family. I treasure all the good things that have happened this year. I treasure knowing that I am still capable of falling in love, that life has not jaded me. That even in my most weaken moments that I can laugh at others and especially at myself. I am so grateful that even though I did not have my mantra I stayed true to most of myself.

With all the things that could have happened I had a great year. No, I didn’t win the lottery, and I didn’t get the man- I kept my friends and gained new ones. I gained a greater faith.

For you I pray that everything comes the way you want, the way you deserve it to be. I pray that the love I have in my heart will not have to be hidden for long. I pray that when loves comes my way that I recognize it. And I pray that our faith grows.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

I know some of ya’ll feel that this season is all about giving, and you’re right. I know you know that Christ was not born in December but in the late summer or early fall. I know all this too, but I still like this season. It brings back the memories of being a kid, of getting roller skates and overall. Roller skates- not in-line skates how the hell do people skate on those thing anyway? I think about the Christmas we spent at Grady’s’ emergency room when my sister broke her arm on those roller skates. This season brings back great memories for me. The joy and excitement of the Christmas pageant every year at our church- Bethlehem Church of God Holiness. We would practice for months our part and each year put on a play. I wonder if they still do that.

When I got older and had children the old feelings came back. Although trying to put together my boys bikes with a butter knife and toe nail clippers were by no means fun. But I got them together. They rode those bikes Christmas morning until the front wheel came off. Next year I paid to get them assemble.

My Children are older now, no bikes, ping-pong tables or Nintendo games for them. I’m really at a lost as to what to get them, but I don’t sweat it. They seem to be happy with whatever I get. I have grandchildren they’re young 1 and 2 so they have no idea what’s going on.

I like the feeling that comes with this season more than anything. I like knowing that Christ is born, and that he was sent to take away my sins and prepare a room in his Father house. I like knowing that Christ is King of Kings. I like this season.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

I am troubled. I haven’t been in this much emotionally trouble in years. And being as I am a woman it most definitely is about a man. Not just any man, but a man 16 years younger. I have no idea of what it is I like about this man, but I do. When I think about the men in the past that I have been attracted to he has none of the physical attributes that I’ve looked for. If he has an ass I can’t tell, not because he wears baggie pants, but he is small. I can’t discern the size of his pecks, because his shirts are not defining. The only attributes that he does have is his hands, now I like a man with large hands, strong hands.

What is it about this man? My day can be in the shits, and he walks by, speaks and my whole day just gets better. I find myself going out of my way to put myself in his path. And Lord, help me if he touches me my nipples stand at a quick attention. When I walk into this man unexpectedly I don’t make any sense. The words that come out of my mouth surely do not belong to a mature woman, who isn’t shy about the things she wants. But when I’m around him all I can do is blabber.

Once when I was a way from my work area for almost a month, at another job site, I couldn’t wait to get back. And when I did, the very first person I walked into was him. I boldly asked did he miss me, did he knew I was gone, and was he worried that I wasn’t coming back? Yes to all those. So then I asked why didn’t ask where I was, he said he didn’t put his personal business in the street. I soared all day, I was personal business.

I don’t flirt with him like I do with men I’m not really interested in. I’m a damn good flirt, but really I just be playing with them. But when I like someone I get shy, too scared to put my feelings out there. What happens if he rejects my advances? I get scared that I have misread all the signals wrong. Then I get scared that I maybe I missed some signal. Mom taught me that women do not chase men, men chase women, and I do like to be pursued- but damn he taking the long way around.

So what do I do now? Continue this lust in my heart? Take the bull by the horn?, or just let this go. 16 years is a lot of years, hell that’s another whole generation. My friend Louise tells me, to go for it. That is so easy for her to say. There is a phrase from Maya Angelou poem “Phenomenal Woman” ….”I am not cute or built to suit a fashion model size” That’s my way of saying I am a thick woman, whereas Louise could be a model. But we all have our hang-ups. I want go into hers, but let’s just say I’ve had three sons, and my breast could stand to be rest. That worries me more than anything. How do you undress in front of someone who probably is used to younger firmer bodies? I know that I have just jumped the gun on this; he might not even want to see me undress. What if we do go out I can see him getting carded. He is 33, but I swear the man looks like he is in his early twenties; I carded him myself in the break room. See I’ve got some serious issue going on here. What is we do decide to date, then I introduced him to my 28 year old son, hell I’m old enough to be his mother. But trust me I have no motherly thoughts when it comes to him. See I told you some serious issues going on here.

Nothing but trouble- I have no idea what I’m going to do. All I know is I need to get out of this one way or another.

I read an article today on CCN about the fallen troops in Iraq today. And I am sad today that like most American I don’t give it much of thought. I see the caskets returning and I get a little misty. But I don’t know these solider. And I continue on with my life.

The article I read today was about the nicknames they have, some given by parents and friends and some by the people that they serve with. A nickname can tell you a lot about that person. What people who knew them thought about them.

As I read this article I was hurt and shamed of myself. I might say a cursory prayer for the soldiers there and I was done. I am ashamed of myself. Regardless of whether I am for this war or against this war I support the people there doing what our government has asked of them.

My youngest son has set his mind, body, and spirit in becoming a U.S. Marine Corp Officer. As he gets closer to graduating from college this year and obtaining his commission this war is beginning to hit closer to home. I began to think about all the names I have called him doing his life. All of my sons as babies were called pook-wook- no particular reason, I liked the way it sounded and the way they would twist their mouths whenever I would say it as if they were trying to mock me. I have wrecked my mind this morning trying to think of a nickname that I called him that would encompass all that he is. And the more I thought about it the only name that comes is Jeremy.

I’m sure as the day of his commission gets closer I will start to pay more attention to the troops there. I’m sure as the day gets closer my prayers will become more impassioned. I’m sure as the day get closer I will become more ashamed of myself for the cursory prayers that I prayed.

May the Lord God bless and protect our troops. May He guide them in their endeavors, make them strong where they are weak, and touch each of them as they go about their journeys. Lord God continue to keep Your arms wrapped strongly around them. And Father if they fall gather them and take them to live in peace with you. AMEN

It sounds so easy- the comfort of a man. But not just any man will do. It has to be the right man. I miss the comfort of a man.

I’m not just talking sex; I miss the deepness of his voice, the hardness of his face, and the palms of his hands. I miss the look in his eye as he looks at me. I miss the silly and serious argument with a man. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the fleeting touches that he gives, the toilet paper roll put on backwards. I miss touching him. I miss the mischievous smile, and the all-knowing looks. I miss going to sleep with him and waking in the morning. I miss the hair in the sink, the socks on the floor. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss him washing my car; I miss cooking for him. I miss being his. I miss not thinking about him and planning our evenings. I miss the hints of what he wants for his birthday, or Christmas. I miss the planning of our vacations. I miss him throwing out the garbage. I miss him holding me and wiping my tears. I miss him yelling at the T.V. I miss him changing channels just as I get interested. I miss taking a shower with him, I miss trying new recipes on him. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss him while I read and he builds his model cars. I miss sharing the same space and I miss the silence of being together. I miss the messes he leaves in the kitchen, I miss cleaning together. I miss his tending to the lawn; I miss the wrong size clothes he buys me. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss his ear breaking snoring, the thief of cover, and the legs between mine. I miss searching for him in my sleep at night. I miss the embarrassing noises he makes. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the way my body responds to his. I miss the way he helps me to relax. I miss the dirty words between us. I miss his expression as he climax. I miss the hardening of him under my hands and mouth. I miss his mouth between my legs. I miss his kisses, deep and sweet. I miss him unable to hold back: I miss the tensing of my legs. I miss the comfort of a man.

I miss the comfort of a man. The right man.

It’s been a while since I last posted. So much and so little has been going on. My mind is full of junk that I can’t seem to get rid of it. And when it’s full of junk none of it can be good. I need a good problem like torn between three men, or too much romance, or just down right freaky sex. I mean freaky!!!! I want to move and damn I want to moan and scream. But none of that is going to happen in the near future. May be I could throw something, anything that’s breakable, something that will shatter into tiny tiny fragments- never to be put together again. That’s about how my mind is splintered into pieces.

I want to love someone, and be loved by the same person. I don’t want to be in love with someone who is not in love with me and vice versus. I want that love to be passionate. I don’t want to settle, I want it all. I want to be able to argue and not be scared he is going to walk out the door and never come back. I want to be able to trust. I want to be in his thoughts; I want him to save a joke for me. I want him to be passionate about me.

I want to be a good friend to someone who can always count on me and I can always count on them. When the phone rings in the middle of the night I want them to know that I will always listen. I don’t want to feel like my problems are petty; occasionally I want to sit back and just drink a glass of wine and not discuss children or men all night. And I don’t want to watch Lifetime channel all night.

I want to be daring. I want to put a card on a man car and not worry that he won’t know it’s not from me. I want to be the woman at the bar, that men buy drinks for. I don’t won’t to wander why is he talking to me? Does he think I’m easy?

In the end I know that I am only me, some of things I am and some I am not. All I can be in the end is me. I want to be enough not just for the people in my life, but more importantly I want to be enough for me. My mind is no longer splintered.

Ever meet someone and you just click. You hit on all cylinders. People hear you talking and laughing and think they’ve must known each other for years, when you only just met. Then there are those that you meet, they’re the sweetest person, but that person just rubs you the wrong way. They haven’t done a damn thing to you except say “hello.” But even that grates your nerves. The there’s the one who could go either way. You are not sure what the person is about, but instinct say don’t trust that person.

In my short life I’ve met all three (yes 49 is short). I met one last week. We talked, laughed, discussed some serious issues and being quiet wasn’t frightening. Its not often you meet someone who knows when to invade your space and when to leave you alone.

Now the next type, I couldn’t stand them from the beginning. They just tried too damn hard. I thought if I talked with them, get to know them, I would find something about them that I liked. Well that didn’t work, and it worried me for a while, but finally I just accepted we just weren’t meant to be.

Last, the one that could go either way. That person affects you not in a good or bad way they are just there. This person will always be somewhere in your life. You deal with the person, because they are in your life. Nothing you say seems to strike a cord with that person and your guard stays up. You don’t tell them your silly stories, someone you definitely don’t tell your secrets too. You are polite; you speak, but keep going. Watch out for this person- they can hurt you more then the person you don’t like.

Is it possible that the people we meet are someone from way back in our past, a past life? Reincarnation? Think about it the next time you meet someone.

I have always liked to write, and have always thought it to be THERAPEUTIC. This is my first time writing in a public forum. Why at this time in life have I chosen to put myself out there? I don’t know. Sometimes you do things just because it is time. And this is my time. I won’t promise that my words will always be wise, happy, funny. Al I can promise is just to be me.

If you have ever lived in the projects of Atlanta near all the black colleges, Moorehouse, Spellman, Clark, UA then you know about Fair St. That is where I lived, dreamed, loved, fought, hated and made friends. When I look back on those scenes its what has made me what I am today. Strong, confident, confused, smart, intelligent, funny, vulnerable, and bitchy. At one time I couldn’t wait to get away from there and I did. I go back every now and then to restore my sense of self.

One day I may tell you stories of growing up there, some of them are pretty funny, like the time Eric got hit in the mouth with a baseball bat, or the time my sister thought a snake was on her back (I know we lived in concrete city). My first love was every parent nightmare, but I loved that boy, or bouncing a basketball under the streetlight with a friend I’ve lost touched with (EddieLee where are you)? Hitting Tony upside the head with a tennis racket every time I lost. And who could ever forget the nosy old lady who lived to tell mom everything I did. Mrs. Butler thank you.

So this is just a slow introduction of my life. As time goes on, I’ll tell you more about me, my successes and my failures. I’ll share more of my history, present and my hopes for the future. Catch me in a chatty mood I’d probably tell you more than you want to hear. Just remember I’m being me.