I heart Michael Jackson

I was introduced to Michael on a friday night on my uncle’s television screen. My cousin was home from college and she was watching videos.  The video was thriller. I was truly like a moth to a flame, then burned by desire. I inched toward the screen to get a closer look. I was entranced by the cute, slender,  jheri-curled man that was dancing around with zombies, ghouls and ghosts on the screen, but I was afraid and spent the whole video looking then turning my head away looking then squeezing my eyes shut. I was literally thrilled by the man, but I remember being exquisitely frightened. To this day I have NEVER been able to watch the whole video.

Michael Jackson was the first person I ever wanted to meet. I remember my second cousin randomly met him because her uncle knew some exec at his record label. She had a picture with him and that picture made me pee-green with envy. As a matter of fact, Michael Jackson was the source of my first desire to clobber someone over the head and the utterance of what could be considered bitch at that young age. After that I wanted to meet Michael Jackson and I fantasized about it for one WHOLE summer.

There were many things I had as a child that today I wonder why I wanted it so badly as an adult. Today I believe the most fascinating item was my pair of Michael Jackson sneakers. They were black and silver and I maybe by British Knights, I think.  What I do know is that I proudly rocked those overly ornamented sneakers with my uniform to school and you couldn’t tell me I wasn’t BAD.

Do you remember the time when the release of a Michael Jackson video was a big deal? I think it was fox or the wb, but everyone watched them. My favorite video is Something about you Baby or maybe Do you remember the Time. I can’t decide what my favorite song is right now. There are so many to chose from.

I actually cried when I found out and not just a misty tear in the eye. It was along the lines of oh my word I need to go to the bathroom, get myself together and wipe the snot from my nose. Three people sent me text, then facebook status’ changed and then I turned to a reliable source, CNN. I didn’t believe the first reports that he was dead. I only accepted that he was in a coma as reported by CNN. I kept telling people “CNN has NOT confirmed it, so he is not dead, he’s just in a coma, prayer would be good now.” Then they confirmed it and the tears came.

Michael was inspiring, beautiful and a genuis. There will never be anyone else like him, he was and still is a star like no other. I love you Mike and  thanks for the music.

“Life ain’t so bad at all if you live it off the wall.” Michael Jackson

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It’s me, it’s really me…

I have been in the dating doldrums, with absolutely no breeze. Nada. No guy that is currently in my life really makes me excited. Now there are those who are quite entertaining, but after I stop laughing I do need substance. Everyone is just so dull, so self absorbed, so not memorable, so stiff, so pushy, so needy, so sensitive, so intent on taking up all my spare time. I am not saying that I too don’t have shortcomings, but I’ve recently had a bumper crop of men that make me want to sit out a few quarters just to recoup the time. That’s not fair, they aren’t dull there is just no chemistry. If there was chemistry I could overlook the shortcomings. There have been moments of brilliance that glitter like gold, but when I reach out to grasp the little nugget it turns out to be brass.

I got a phone call yesterday from a guy who is by far one of my favorite men (if I were to have one), very charming and witty. We have known each other for a little over a year. We’re just cool. Do you remember your best friend from summer day camp? That person who you immediately click with, share your lunch with, share school secrets with, giggle uncontrollably with, sit on the field trip bus with, that one person you make fast friends with and you look for as soon as you arrive every morning. This is how I would describe us during the initial months, two peas in a pod. It was fun, but then we both became busy and I can’t say what happened. It’s just like when summer camp ends and despite promises to call and write your new bff somehow life gets in the way and years pass and you wonder what they are up to. When he called I smiled and picked up my cell. We decided to go to lunch. He said 2 and I said 1. So we settled on 1:30. I thought ah a breeze.

I arrived at 1:30 on the dot. I waited for about 15 mins than I sat down and ordered drinks and an appetizer. I called him, but my call went straight to voicemail so I texted. He immediately replied that he was in the city and on his way. He walked in at 2 on the dot. Exactly right on HIS time. I was irritated, but I thought be nice don’t be ugly. At least he will be stimulating and I’ll enjoy his company. The hostess brought him over to the table. He was all puppy dog eyes and I’m so sorry, I apologize for keeping you waiting. This melted any frigidness I had planned. He picked up the menu and asked what I wanted to order. Before I could even tell him that I had ordered the waiter came over with drinks and the appetizer. He picked up his drink and took a sip “Oh honey you remembered! You’re a real keeper. Why did we break up again?” I just smiled and then told him to figure out what he wanted because I was hungry and my stomach was churning. After we ordered the main entrees we settled into our booth and caught up. It had actually only been about two months since we last saw each other or talked, but he had a lot to fill me in on. He spent most of the time talking, but it was cool.

Then he stopped mid sentence, “I’m just going on and on about myself how are you?”

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind hearing about your life because it makes me wish for psychotic co-workers and a running with scissors family.” I then took a sip of my drink.

“I don’t know if you are being serious and genuinely interested or if I should be offended.”

“Oh don’t be. If my eyes glazed over then you should be offended.”

“So how are you? What have you been up to since I last saw you? Did you paint that wall? I remember you couldn’t decide on a color.”

I started laughing because he remembered my insane project to paint my dining room wall the right shade of sun-burnt, golden orange. “YES!!! I found the purrrfect shade and it turned out exactly how I saw it in my head. Trust there was a method to my madness.”

“I just remember paint chips all over the wall.”

“And all that was necessary to figure out the right shade.”

He reached across the table and picked up my hand. “What happened to us?”

“Huh?”

“Why did we break up?”

“Uhm we were never together?” I was quite puzzled. I was confused and I know it was written all over my face.

“You were my woman and you know it.”

“I would hardly categorize myself as your woman.”

“Ursala, are you serious? I spent every weekend together with you for about 5 weeks AND in a row.”

“You never said you wanted us to be together. And correction we spent a day, one day, during the weekend together not the whole weekend. And if I remember correctly at one point you went on vacation with your ex.”

“I explained that I was going to Jamaica to celebrate a friend’s birthday and that my ex was going to be there. I was completely honest with you as to what happened while I was gone. I even called you from Jamaica.”

“I also remember that you dropped the ball more than a few times with plans. You tell me you want to see me. We make plans and you cancel hours after we were supposed to get together.”

“That happened twice.”

“Twice is more than once. It was cool, it was clear that you were dating other people. It wasn’t an issue I wasn’t trying to monopolize your time.”

“I wasn’t really dating anyone else. I had a few dates, but you were my main focus. You had to know that.”

At this point. I started to think back over us. I did like him a lot, but I checked my expectations because I never got the feeling that he wanted something serious or that he wanted to be with me. I go with my gut. Gut told me just enjoy it while it lasted. So I did. I didn’t invest any deep emotional feelings into it. I really just thought of him as a friend that I occasionally cuddled with. I mean I genuinely enjoyed his company. He also helped to keep me laughing with emails through out the day. Silly stuff nothing more than one or two sentences, but it kept the boredom from setting in on many a day. I started second guessing myself. Did I miss something? Did he want to be with me? Did I get him all wrong? “I’m sorry, I really thought we were just kicking it.” I looked down at the table when I said this because I really wondered if I had read the situation upside down. I don’t ever read between lines or delve too deeply into words that aren’t followed by actions. Men tell you what they want and then do it. I thought he was a great guy when I met him and I did envision us together, but after about three weeks I got the distinct impression that he just thought I was funny and amusing. I wasn’t upset about that, I  just enjoyed the moment.

“I don’t have time to just kick it. And I definitely don’t kick it with women.”

“Well you did with me.”

“No you don’t understand. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you? You never gave me any signs that you wanted to be with me so eventually I just fell back.”

“So that’s why I haven’t heard from you?”

“I missed you. I don’t miss anyone and I really missed you. So I wanted to see you, talk to you. See where your head is at now. Find out if you wanted a man now. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want a man?”

“What? I don’t really know how to answer that question. I guess it depends on the man.”

“I think that is the problem. You lack direction and so you don’t really know what you want.”

“Are you analyzing me now.”

“You date men and you don’t know what you want from them…you are just wasting your time and theirs.”

I will stop right there because I had an epiphany at the table. He was right. Well not completely right, but close enough for me to get uncomfortable. I think he is partially right because sitting there I realized that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I say that I want a man. I wrote out a list of things that I wanted in a man, but when it comes down to it my actions show that I don’t want a man. Even with him if I thought we could be together why didn’t I tell him why was I waiting on him? And when he did things I didn’t like why didn’t I call him out on it instead of blowing it off like it wasn’t a big deal? People need positive verbal feedback and if I receive it I should reciprocate instead of being vague. Plus men do things many times to get a reaction. I express no real emotions and I don’t react. I am closed. I am guarded. I am cold. I don’t show much affection. I purposefully send mix signals. I don’t share. I don’t give anyone a chance to really get to know me, the real me. It’s not that I am afraid to show the real me. I just don’t feel comfortable opening up and investing myself because I am afraid in the long run it’s not going to work out. I thought one day I would meet someone we would hit it off and I would be happy. This has happened more than once, but after the initial excitement I become concerned about the long term maintenance of the relationship. It frightens me and I feel inadequately prepared. I never thought that I had baggage, but I believe that I do. It’s just that I know how much a relationship requires for it to work and sometimes I am not sure I have that much to give of myself everyday. I don’t know what this means, but I do know that I am in the dating duldroms because of me. Although I want a breeze I am not sure that my sails are ready.

You gotta draw the line somewhere…

I’m prissy, I’m delicate and I don’t like to get my hands dirty unless I’m making cupcakes. I’m not the quintessential girl next door who can hang with the boys, but I do have some qualities that I’ve been told make me endearing. I love to eat and don’t hide it when I’m out on a date. I love action movies. I like big explosions, unbelievable fight sequences and macho men. I like sweaty men. I like hairy men. I like going to home depot, just love the way that place smells. I don’t scream or flinch at the site of bugs or blood, kill em or plug it. I’m not into sports, but will watch (and be quiet or call you afterwards) because I understand it’s like reality tv for guys. I really thought I was open minded. I thought I was progressive. Until today. Today I realized to hell with trying to be accommodating, dudes are straight trippin with this sports stuff and they need to be called out on it. Well one dude in particular.

I was invited to watch Extreme Fighting with a guy that I’ve gone out with a few times. Saying that I was invited implies that I showed up on my own, but that’s not accurate. We had planned on dinner and a movie, but the movie was sold out. We were trying to decide our next move when his face lit up and he announced that he knew exactly where we could go. A friend of his was having a fight party. I agreed to go despite not being able to think of a single boxing match that was coming on that evening. I thought well maybe he knows something I don’t know. Plus I actually smiled to myself because I had mentioned very briefly during our dinner conversation that I watched the Manny Pacquiao documentary on HBO. Yes! He was listening. So I believe this prompted his eureka moment of “I’ll take this lady to the fight party, yeah that’s just what I’ll do.”

When we arrived, the fight had already started. The host offered us food and drinks, but since I had just eaten I asked for a glass of wine. I could hear the fight, but I couldn’t see the screen. It was very crowded and people were standing all around, but they were all very enthusiastic. Yelling and carrying on like this was a title fight in the Tyson era (those were the days). My friend asked if I wanted to sit down and of course I said yes, so he took my hand and led me up some stairs to a little nook overlooking the den. Perfect. I could people watch and watch the fight.

We sat down, looked at artwork on the walls of the little nook (which made me want to start really paying attention to art and collecting) and then the host came up to make fun of us for separating ourselves from the crowd. We giggled, chit chatted the host then he called everyone’s attention down below to our secret hide-away. After being put on the spot I said that I was here to watch the fight and I was being distracted so “Shoooooooo!”

When I actually looked at the tv I was confused. The dudes on the screen were rolling around on the ground and punching one another. I sat my glass of wine down and peered at the screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The guys were in a drag out, “organized”, street fight. The only thing that separated them from say a street brawl were their little multi-logo emblazoned shorts, a ref and a cage. WTH?!? A CAGE? A CAGE! Actually a metal fence, to contain all the scrapping that was going on. What was worse is that when they weren’t rolling around on the ground entangled in one another’s crotch and legs, they were punching the stuffing out of one another bare fisted. I’ve never been in a fight, but I’ve seen enough fights to know that bare fisted punching is brutal. Plus they were both bloody, lumpy and in need of a trainer to treat their wounds and squirt some water in their mouths.

After about two minutes I couldn’t watch it anymore. I walked to the other side of the nook and looked at the art. First, I thought why would he bring me here does he think this is what I find entertaining? Second, what made him think that I would enjoy watching men savagely beat up one another? Third, was I the only one in the house completely repulsed by this? It reminded me of mortal combat they just didn’t pull a heart out of a rib cage while I was watching, but I bet they would if they could.  As I thought through what I might have said besides the Pac-Man doc, I started to consider that he might actually really be into this Extreme Combat Fighting.

About a minute passed before he came over to me, but he arrived at the exact moment that I was becoming alarmed about the possibility that he might really be into this. The alarm of my realization must have shown on my face because he immediately asked if I was okay. I started shaking my head no. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I wasn’t going to last too long. Watching those two minutes had actually made me sick to my stomach. He asked if I needed to sit down, I must have been ashen faced too. I nodded yes. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions that he was Extreme Fighting’s biggest fan, so I told myself he just wanted to see his boys and it was close.

I didn’t know what to say to him so we just sat there for a few minutes listening to the cheers and the sound of flesh being pummeled to a pulp. Then there was a collective “Ooooh” from the crowd downstairs and he jumped up to go see. I thought oh he likes this. So I said “Do you like this extreme fighting?”

“Yes, it’s like fight club.”

“Do you watch it often?”

“Yeah, I’ve even been to a couple of matches.”

Yikes wrong answers. I was trying to think what excuse I was going to come up with for having to leave. I know guys like sports and sports are a way to release the bottled up aggression that many of them carry around. However, I have to draw the line at modern day gladiators who look like they are literally trying to maim and kill each other. I also draw the line on men who are into this sport. Dude should have kept this underwraps like whatever porn he had at the crib. I can’t with a clear conscious watch one man try to kill another man and cheer. I don’t find it entertaining at all. I can’t even humor someone and watch a little bit. Even if he was the perfect guy for me the fact that he enjoyed this took him out the running. I know guys like guts and gore, but geeze this was on a level that I was not able to tolerate. I believe boxing and football are about as extreme as I can go. So I texted a friend and ten minutes later I told him that I had to go. I was tired and repulsed by the extreme fighting. Good Night and Good Bye. No further explanation.

Swoon or I heart Dennis Haysbert

Life is beautiful, fantastical, marvelful, wonderlous : ) and it must be celebrated. I was invited to participate in a 30th Birthday Extravaganza for a lovely friend of mine in Miami. She requested that we all join her for a weekend of shopping, fun, food and fellowship, oh and a little sun. Love to tan, love Miami and love my friend so it was off to play with pretty people in the land of oz.

I arrived in Miami, checked my bags at the hotel and went straight to the beach to try to get a little color. The sun is damaging and I know it’s not good for me, but Ah to have glorious golden color it is what I strive for. Yesssssssssss!  I successfully achieved half a shade of color. After some light Cuban cuisine, I went back to my room to get dressed for our night out on the town. We started the evening by going to the Ganzevourt rooftop lounge.

I thought men folk only came up when I was with the girls, but even in mixed company I was asked about my relationship status and my type. This turned into a discussion about my ideal type of man. Hands down everyone who knows me knows that I love the first black president from 24. I am convinced that this show planted the seed in the minds of the American sheep people that a man of color could lead the free world. It was ground breaking because it helped nurture the idea. I remember they had a show that was supposed to open our minds to a lady president, but I guess the writers at 24 did a more convincing job. Despite leaving 24, he and his soothing voice often show up on my tv screen because he also is the spokesman for Allstate. Bless Allstate.  I should have Allstate insurance for that one simple fact.

He is the most beautiful specimen of man on earth. All handsome face, dazzling smile, rich chocolate color, toned muscles, perfect wide shoulders, oh and don’t get me started on that dent in his chin. He is the epitome of masculinity. He is it, number one favorite man of all time. He is my ideal man. I am getting excited just typing this because I am envisioning him. I mean even his voice is sexy, it’s all authoritative. Heavens bless the parents whose gene pool created that delightful treat. After sharing what I basically just wrote in more colorful language we moved on to more pressing topics like who was buying the next round of drinks. We decided we needed a change of scenery so we all loaded up into cabs and headed off to the Delano. I love that place. Everything is large and grand and pretty, exactly how I like it.

I was loving the Delano experience except for the DJ. He was wack and kept me off my good foot. However, I have decided that it was a good thing. I was doing my best impression of a wall flower when who walks in? The one and only Too Fly, Fine and Terrific, Mr. Allstate. Lord! Have mercy on my soul for the thoughts I had. I thought my eyes were deceiving me so I took my glasses off my head and put them back on and saw that it was clearly MY man. I immediately handed my camera to a friend standing next to me, grabbed her wrist and pursued him through the crowd. My heart was beating so fast. I practically started hyperventilating, that’s when the adrenaline coursed through my veins and I got an extra burst of energy to help me tear through the crowd. I LITERALLY rolled over people. If it was in slow motion you probably would have seen me throwing bows, biting folks and body slamming them to the ground.

When I was about two people away from him I started waving like we knew each other, so he would see me and stop moving through the crowd. I admit I was waving quite violently, but he’s actually very tall and he was covering a lot of ground rather quickly. All the waving, plus the BIG, kool aid, cheese grin on my face must have caught his attention or startled him because he stopped. Then I was all,

“Oh my gosh! I was just talking about you like twenty minutes ago. I can’t believe you are in Miami. I can’t believe WE are in Miami. Oh my gosh, this is the BEST. What are you doing in Miami? I’m here for a friend’s birthday. I can’t believe this. This is so wickedly awesome.” I was going a mile a minute. I even introduced myself, but I didn’t give him a chance to respond or reply to my statements, questions or the introduction. I am sure he was just taking it all in, he’s a star he is accustomed to gushing fans.

“You have to take a picture with me!!!!” The big cheese grin returned to my face and I actually put my hand on his forearm like we were old homies.

Then he spoke.

“I can’t. If I take a picture with you everyone will want to take a picture.” His voice was so lovely in real life, but he was not saying lovely words. I can’t didn’t register in my mind.

“Oh no you HAVE to take a picture with me.” I must have looked at him crazy because when I reached to put my arm around him so that we could take the picture he obliged. I am so sad that I only got ONE picture. I should have told her to take more than one. After we took the picture I turned back to him.

“Thank you SO much. Now what is your real name? I just call you Mr. Allstate Man.”

“My name is Dennis, Dennis Haysbert.”

“Well it was nice to meet you. Have fun in Miami!” I cheesed really, really hard and practically skipped off like he was Santa Claus and had just promised to grant all my Christmas wishes.  

I am surprised that I was able to do all of that. As soon as I took two steps I thought I was going to pass out. I was shaking and I felt faint. It was like all the energy had drained from me and I was spent. Just so you know he is even BETTER in person. Just all handsome, suave, oh his voice and he even smelled good. I love me some him. Fan for LIFE!