Tuesday, July 20, 2010

What I Luv...

... I noticed that there hasn't been much "Luv" on Luv My Texture, and I thought I would take a moment to remind myself of the great things in life.  I'll try to be brief, even though Yoda said "Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try".

  • I luv my remote control (though I have no problem getting up and actually changing the channel - as long as the TV works)
  • I luv peanut butter - alone, in ice cream, with jelly, as cookies
  • I luv cheesy romantic films. 
  • I luv the Yankees.
  • I luv sleeping (if only I could get paid for it, "sleeping", not that other stuff that some people call "sleeping" - just to clarify!). 

  • I luv my family, despite everything, I want them to be happy too.  
  • I  luv the work I do - even though I won't be paying off student loans for this particular career, I'm good at what I do because I enjoy it (it's the other bs that people like to bring into it.... ' I'm digressing' lol!)
  • I luv bags.  I don't know why. 
  • I luv hats too.  I also don't know why. 

  • I luv food.  I luv to cook it, serve it, learn about it (I could never be anorexic because food is so darn good!) 
  • I luv my toolbox (Home Depot, to me, is like Toys R Us to my son). 
  • I luv men.  Same as the bags and hats - I don't know why (that was a joke.  I know why and it's private, lol!) 
  • I luv music.  I hear it when I write, when I walk, when I relax, when I'm upset.  When I hear a piece of music, I choreograph to it in my head... which leads me to...
  • I luv dance.  Don't know why I believed that a 5'4" dancer wouldn't make it professionally.  I still luv it.
  • I luv to write.  Haven't written as much as I used to, as much as I should... I know, I know... 

I luv my son.  I luv my son.  I luv my son.  Not that kind of luv where I want to suffocate him and stifle who he is, but the kind of luv where I want to do whatever I can to help him soar above any and everything.  I luv his spirit.  I luv his humor.  I luv his compassion.  I luv his inquisitiveness (most of the time).  I luv that I can be silly with him and still be deemed cool.  I luv that to him I'm a cool mom.  I luv that he understands that I am tough and he luvs me anyway.  I luv that we talk all the time.  I luv that he makes me talk to him.  I luv the way he sleeps (in his own bed!).  I luv that the only thing I know for sure is that his presence in my life has made me a better person - even just a little bit.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Single. Mom. Me.

I find myself thinking back to the mindset I was in when I learned I was pregnant 10 years ago.  I was a couple of years into my career, finally living the kind of freedom that I didn't have growing up being the oldest of 7 and then working full time and going to school full time (at the same time) and a baby was not on the agenda, but we were irresponsible by not using contraception, and I eventually ended up giving birth to a son. (I know the option of abortion was available, but I always said to myself that once I decided to become sexually active, I would take responsibility for whatever happens, and at that point, I just couldn't see myself getting an abortion.  That was 10 years ago - who knows what I would do if the same thing happened to the older me).

When I told the 'father' about the pregnancy, all of that "we'll always be friends" thing went out the window. It was like I flipped a switch and this maniacal person appeared. Funny thing is, all I asked was "do you want to be involved in the child's life?"  There was no "I-think-we-should-get-back-together-and-be-a-real-family" plea from me because we weren't in love (at one point I was in love and he never was, so there you go), and I couldn't even fathom being in a loveless marriage IF that was something that he would even agree to.  But that never would have happened since it was then that I learned he already knew he was having a baby - with someone else (different story for a different day).  And so it was then that will mark the beginning of the past 10 years where I still get the words "selfish," "bitch", or even "low-class" thrown at me -- but nothing will ever erase the words "I told you to get up on the table and have it yanked out of you" (an actual quote).

Going through a pregnancy alone is not something that I would wish on anyone, and I have a strong suspicion that I'm still not completely over it because I wasn't supposed to let something like that happen to me (naivete at its finest). BUT, today my son is a little straight-A brainiac like I was at that age, loves dinosaurs, is funny, and an all around great kid - if I were a kid, I would hang with him, so now I just pretend to be a kid so I can hang with him, lol! It was difficult - but despite all of this, I don't regret the outcome. I'm a good Mom - not perfect - and I love my son (and on a completely selfish note, he loves me!).

I put all of my energy into my son and not into myself - I've been told that's not a necessarily good thing, but I am still trying to figure out if I have learned anything all of these years that will help me to be a better person. 
Everyday I ask 'why can't I just get everything to click into place?' And I never have an answer - at least not yet. All I do know is that I don't want to be asking myself the same questions 10 years from now, so I'm going to roll the dice again and continue to make a go at it until I get some answers. 

There are so many other people out there in pain or just feeling a void that they want to fill, but I figure that - for all of us - the tide must change and progress must be had - it must, I insist.  I don't know if that's courage or strength or arrogance, but it is hope.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Can Guys F*ck Hair?

I have been wondering the answer to that particular question for at least a decade and a half.  And I don't mean to be funny about it, but I legitimately want to know if guys can f*ck hair because over the years I have heard and seen some things!

I have heard of women with boyfriends who threaten to end the relationships if the woman either  a) cut her hair to chin length, and/ or  b)went natural.  And then I think of the numerous pro-black, dashiki-wearing, Africa medallion slanging, loc-having guys I knew back in high school who would call a black girl in boarding school a sell out in a heart beat, but only dated girls with super silky straight, fine hair (no offense to my silky straight sisters out there - we all need love).  And then there are the compliments I would get when I was younger, ONLY when my hair was pressed (and a side-eye when I wore my Freddie hair [an "A Different World"* reference for those of us over 35!]).  Or the ex-boyfriend who would always tell me how he missed long ponytails like that of his Puerto Rican ex-girlfriend (don't worry, the first time he said those words I was already planning my escape!).  Those are just a couple of a bucket full of 'situations' that I have witnessed, but I surely won't list them all.

I know there are foot and shoe fetishes, lingerie fetishes, heck, there's probably even armpit fetishes (there's just something about curling up under a guy in that armpit area that.... sorry, haven't had a date in years... anyway, lol!).  There are also submissive fetishes with dudes wearing pampers and being spanked and sucking on pacifiers (hey, don't act like you never watched any of those HBO "Documentaries at 3 in the morning!)... all kinds of obsessions, but hair!  Some dudes actually threaten to leave their women because of hair!  Dudes, who I am sure have photos somewhere in a vault where they rocked the 'Gumby' hairstyle!  Dudes who at one time or another, recreated - on a daily basis - the scene in Coming to America* when Darryl's parents and Grandmomma got up from the couch and left those three jherri curl juice stains on the couch!

Look, I know we all have physical preferences, and we have a right to have those preferences, but when you criticize and threaten the women that you supposedly love (?) about their hair - and she hasn't shaved everything but an Alfalfa (Little Rascals)* curl, stuck a piece of metal through her nose and started chanting in Dutch - I think we can call that behavior a little bit of an overreaction.  So tell me guys, can you f*ck hair... and is it good for ya (just curious!),

*Sorry for including references to A Different World, Coming to America, and The Little Rascals, but there was nothing to draw from in today's current media!

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Horrible Truths

The term "horrible truth" can almost be looked at as an oxymoron.  One word - horrible - has a completely negative connotation.  When one thinks of "horrible" I would guess things like hurricanes and layoffs and losses and even death come to mind.  But when one thinks of the word 'truth', one can easily assume that it is supposed to be a positive word because the 'truth' is supposed to set us free, right?  And freedom is supposed to be the ultimate status, right?  I think it's is a positive word, but that doesn't mean that 'the truth' always feels good.  For instance, if someone is a bitch, and it's a truthful assessment of one's behavior, then that's a good thing, right (the assessment, not the bitchiness)?  (As opposed to walking around BS'ing and saying that Sally is the nicest person in the world when really she's a heifer PMS'ing to the tenth power, 24-7.).

I think we are so protective of our feelings that more often than not, we want to force the truth to be positive just to make ourselves feel better.  I used to be that way.  It was my 'the glass is half full' force field.  But why can't the glass be half full with the truth, even if it tells us something that we dont necessarily want to hear?  Well, the new me just tries to take 'the truth' on the chin like a good (supposedly tough) Bronx girl.  Doesn't mean it don't hurt (it hurts like hell - that kind of pain always surprises me), but I'd rather skip going through months (sometimes years) of denial - a failing effort all to avoid 'being real with oneself.'  All the term 'horrible truth' means is 'this is the truth that you don't want to hear' and  I got the message.  It is what it is.

On another note, my son didn't like the after taste of the tzatziki sauce I made from scratch.  Well, what does he expect - I'm not Greek, but if he wants some rice & beans, or a southern or Caribbean dish, I can hook him up.  I'm good, but I'm not perfect, a fact proven every day!

Sunday, July 11, 2010


A thought occurred to me today as I prepare to make some changes in my life.  All anyone wants in life is a little security.

A kid wants the security of knowing that no matter what he or she does, his or her parents love them and has their back.

A tenant wants to get their darn security money back when they move out (and a landlord wants to hold onto that security "in case shit happens" -- quoting Chris Rock from one of his comedy specials).

An employer wants the security of knowing that even though they are in charge, they have a team working beneath them to make them look good (and then there are those who want reliable employees so they can go off for hours at a time knowing that the machine is still running very well without their presence!).  Meanwhile, an employee wants to keep their job, benefits (if they have them), and (at a distant third) receive appreciation for giving 150% each day.

I'm guessing that men want the security of knowing that despite all that society, women, their children, etc, expect of them, that they are doing their best, and to not give up on them if something isn't done exactly the way someone else wants it (I'm guessing, because there are also those who want the security of knowing that they can go out and do whatever they want, damn the consequences, and still have a home and a hot meal to come back to - I'm guessing, lol!).

And then there are women who want the security of knowing that they are loved or appreciated for who they are without the various masks she wears in order to conquer a given situation.  And that the love, respect, and support that she gives others will be returned in some way, shape, or form.   It's a hope, not an expectation (but maybe it should be... who knows).  For those women who are hoochies and users  - I don't know what they want, and don't want to.

I write in circles to say that at the end of the day, everyone simply wants the security of knowing that some one or some thing in the universe has their back.  Ya dig?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

"When the lights go out...

...we're all the same color!"  I'm paraphrasing a line from an old episode of Martin where the guys were sitting around talking about interracial dating.  Yes, yes, I'm going to chime in on this whole "Black women should date white men because there aren't enough good, straight, non-incarcerated, tall, muscular, educated, home-owning, chivalrous, six-figure earning, funny, goal-oriented, summer home owning, six-pack abs having, strong black men out there."

So here it goes... ready?  Okay... Love who you fall in love with, and hopefully he will love you back in a way in which you could have never imagined.  (Notice the absence of adjectives that lean toward the superficial.  Also know that I'm not naive.  We all have physical preferences that we seek in a mate, but as I told a friend just yesterday, also allow yourself to be open to the possibilities) 

As a black woman who was involved with a white man, and had a child before this whole "movement"  I will say that yes, there were a whole lotta people who were not happy, (and don't even get me started on the shit I had to go through having every stranger question whether my white looking baby was actually my son), but when I met "he who shall not be named" I honestly didn't know what the hell he was, and you know what - I didn't care.  And that's what it's all about ladies.  If you meet your guy, be more concerned about what kind of "man" he is, and not what color he is.  You wouldn't want to hook up with a white man who all of a sudden proclaimed in every month's issue of GQ Magazine that "now I'm gonna date black women!"... right?

Sunday, July 4, 2010


I don't know why I am doing this while waiting for some 4th of July barbecue, but I am going to attempt to discuss "love" (with the disclaimer that I a not very good at this).

Ok.  So, this is what I think about romantic love.

It's being in the presence of your significant other and feeling easy breezy, even if things aren't necessarily so, because if there 's a problem between us two, even if we don't have the answer right away we will work together to figure it out.

It's wanting to take care of you 'honey' when they don't feel well. You want to take the day off, not answer the phone, not sleep a wink until you know that they are ok.  When your sweetheart isn't at their best you want to build them up.

It's 'wanting' to take care of their every need, even if they don't need you to.

It's being able to sit in the same room in a comfortable silence.  You can give your partner one look from across the room and the love is confirmed all over again.

It's about being able to express your feelings without feeling like you're giving your partner ammunition to throw back at you in a negative manner.

It's about when you are feeling your worst, and your partner being able to point out your best, just to remind you should you forget.

It's about giving to your partner (whether it's time, assistance, support, whatever) without keeping score.

It's about looking at your partner and thinking, 'my life is already great, and you make it better.'

It's about not feeling bad about giving so much of yourself because you are receiving just as much in return.

It's about being able to hug your partner and feel like you are HOME.

I am not an expert at this particular topic, and I haven't been in love in about 12 years (and that was unrequited), so maybe the things I listed is some outdated wish list of a girl and not the reality of a grown woman with a child.  The one thing I think I know is that these listed things touch on some fundamental basics when it comes to relationships. I guess my justification for this list is, even though I ain't never had it, don't mean I don't know what it is!  I don't know, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it (for now, lol)!  It's not poetic and I can definitely write more eloquently, but my contacts are bothering me and my food is ready, so I'm out, for now!