Last night, I slept for almost 7 hours.  When I woke up, I was boastful.  I was on some, “Who’s got two thumbs and 7 hours of sleep?! Awwww yeah!”  So tonight, the Sandman showed me who was running shit, and has made me his bitch.

This past week, I have been feeling extra sweet.  I don’t even know why.  I got off the train, and it seems that when I hit the air, I was enveloped by a blanket of sexy.  I go through that from time to time.  Not even for a particular reason.  I’m just feeling myself.  I went out this weekend, nobody was trying to holler, no random compliments on the train, nothing.  But good luck trying to convince me that I don’t have straight up deliciousness going on.

Tonight, the hour became late.  I became restless.  It was too late to eat.  TV seemed boring.  Maybe I could…I mean, I haven’t visited my no-no in quite some time.  For those of you who read me often enough, you know that when I detail my tales of self gratification, they always end in comedy rather than eroticism.  And yes, this visit to my no-no was no exception.  The thing is, my no-no has been really good to me lately.  It’s really been on some, “You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you” shit.  It’s not that I’m devoid of sex drive.  I just keep myself too occupied to think about it – much.

Tonight, my no-no  stood between me and the sweetest of sweet releases like Gandalf in “The Fellowship of the Ring” and shouted, “YOU SHALL NOT PAAAAAAAAASSSSSS!”   Then, my no-no demanded that I bring her a man.  Then she got saucy and said, “And he’d better not be a bullshit muthafucka either.”  Damn no-no.  She’s being  beggar AND a chooser.  Yikes.

And the thing is, there isn’t even a “well, maybe I should get to know him better” guy.  There’s still some baggage I’m getting rid of, and I don’t want to carry those issues into a potential new situation.  I mean, of course I have crushes here and there.  Actually, there’s a guy that I have a fairly healthy sized crush on, and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m cute, but no more than that.   Plus, I’m fairly certain he’s not digging me like that.  And even if he were, I would refer you back to reason number one.  I think after the Heartbreaker (The Artist Formerly Known As The Chupacabra Hunter) gave me the working definition of the road to hell being paved with good intentions, that cut my appetite for being in a relationship.  Of course, there’s an expiration date on how long i can say he’s the reason for my lack of desire for a relationship.  Once upon a time, I believed that I couldn’t experience deep feelings for a person at all, and he proved that wrong.  I’m sure I’ll meet a brother that will, at least, make me rethink my position and get back on the horse (and other things) again.

I haven’t quite figured out how I will handle the burden of my own sexiness and the impending wrath of my no-no (I think that bitch is making a picket sign), but I don’t intend to let life pass me by while I find out.


The Luscious

To say that this week has been tumultuous would be an understatement.  It started off with a snowstorm.  More specifically, it started off with me driving to the metro in a snowstorm, with my two children in tow.  Can I tell you that I almost wrecked the Hyundai with the butterfly doors?  I’ve had only a few butt puckering moments, but driving in that snowstorm with my chocolate treasures in the back seat definitely rank high on that list.

So Monday, I bring the babies to the gig with me; because if I’m going to be stuck anywhere in a snowstorm, it’s going to be with my babies!  We ended up staying at my job until 10 pm.  They watched television while Mama MADE THAT MONAAAAAY.  I came to the realization that part of the reason I go in to work is to get peace.  Lord, I had to hear “Mama” all day long.  it damn near took me out of this world.  I spent half the time suppressing the urge to say “Sit your monkey ass down and let me hustle up this video game money!”  Since I worked so late, not only did my children get to eat on the firm, but they also got the firm’s contracted car service to ride us to the parking lot.  They were really feeling like big shit.

Tuesday was another story.  I may or may not have discussed this here, but my sister was recently married.  now, I do not typically put too much of my business here, and I will afford the same courtesy to my sister.  However, I will say this.  Her husband got out of pocket in a MAJOR way.  I mean a way that has caused great concerns on several levels.  In my humble/royal opinion, the situation did not really “resolve.”  And the way it did come to a conclusion disturbed me greatly.  As much as I want my sister to succeed, I do not have positive feelings about this man, and I would feel like less than a sister if I did not express that.  She does read my blog from time to time, so I’m sure she knows that I’m coming from a place of love.  I’m also not saying anything here that I did not say to her.

Now, I can give him the benefit of the doubt, in that he knows neither me, nor how I operate, but I did have to provide a crash course.  I don’t like confrontation, and I don’t like conflict.  But there are times in your life where you have to pull out the bud nippers and sasy, “I want to give of myself, but you are encroaching on what is mine, and I need you to return to your corner.”  Because there are people who do not know what the boundaries are.  I’m sure that it had an impact on our relationship, but when something has to be said, it has to be said.  I carried that shit on my shoulders until last night, which also bothered me, because I pride myself on being the bounceback kid.

So last night, Artemis gave me a call, and i was SOOOOOO glad to hear from her.  It had probably been over a week since we had spoken. We chewed the fat and I came to a realization.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have returned to The Luscious.  For those of you who don’t know what the Luscious is, it’s a state of heart and mind.  It’s my walk, my talk, my aura and my swag.  The Luscious is how I embrace my friends, and repel what ain’t mine.  I told my sister, “You know, i’ve got a long way to go, but it’s hard for me to explain how happy I am.  And I know that whatever I’m feeling, it’s deep, because on the surface, I have no reason to be any happier than I would be on any other average Thursday.”  Yall, I’m smiling when I wake up, I’m putting on the colorful lipgloss.  I’m buttering my body to delicious softness on a regular basis.  The kid is BACK.  And I don’t know when I came back, but let me tell you:  TIME IS A HEALER.

And the reason I know that the Luscious is in full swing, the bees are buzzin around this honey.  And I just don’t mean men in a sexual manner.  I mean I’m on the page with my friends.  My kids and I are having some of our greatest times ever.  I’m even connecting with strangers.  Last week, I was reloading my SmarTrip card, and i got into a brief, but very friendly conversation, with a lady at the machine.  We laughed and talked as we waited in line and conducted our business.  As we parted, she shook my hand and said, “What’s your name?”  I told her, and that really touched my heart.  In that brief conversation, that lady felt enough of a good spirit in me that she wanted to shake my hand, and learn my name in the event that she would see me again.  I know some might think I’m crazy, but in a world where everybody and their grandmammy wants to get all in your shit, there’s somethign that did my heart good in knowing that lady just wanted to know who I was.  That made me feel very beautiful.

Part of this healing has enabled me to reconnect with old friends.  I’ve been in regular contact with two of my homegirls from high school.  One of my dearest friends and I have a promise to meet for lunch at least once a month, given we both live in the DMV.  But a funny thing is that I reconnected with a person that I believed would never again be in my life. I spoke to *gasp Him.

Oh yes, precious, “Him”.  My puppy love.  I once thought that the sun rose and set on his very ass.  I finally had the opportunity to apologize.  I don’t have a lot of bad karma under my belt, but the way things happend between he and I, yeah…he was owed a weighty apology.

But the beautiful thing about talking to him wasn’t that I was talking to my old boyfriend.  I was laughing and joking with my FRIEND.  Because you see, even without the relationship, this dude was my friend, and I lost that.  Have you ever lost a friend. I don’t mean that bitch that you sometimes get a drink with and fight over men.  I don’t mean that dude you play Madden with and you occasionally smoke up his weed.  I mean, have you lost the friend who KNEW you? Your idiosyncrasies, your fears, your buttons?  I lost my friend.  And the worst part is that it was really something I caused.  Joking with my friend is like finding a 20 in a hidden flap in your purse on a non payday Friday.

What’s my point?  Love, in all its forms, is a beautiful thing.  And The Luscious thinks that there’s nothing more delicious than love.  If I keep up with all this positive energy, The Luscious is gonna get fat.

When it’s my time

If thou love, pronounce it faithfully
Or if thou think I am too easily won,
I’ll frown and say thee nay and be perverse,
So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
And therefore thou mayst think my havior light.
But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true
Than they that have more cunning to be strange.

Romeo & Juliet – William Shakespeare

Shooting from the hip is something that I take great pride in. If there is something that needs to be said, say it! No one wins when you skirt the issue.* A couple of weeks ago, I was having lunch with a friend from high school, and we discussed a mutual friend on a social networking site, that often altered their relationship status. “I’m single,” “I’m dating,” “It’s complicated.” She wisely opined, “If you’re our age, single, and trying to do this dating thing, I don’t care who you are. It’s complicated.”


Because we complicate it.

And we like it like that.

And by “we,” I mean “y’all.” Mamba likes it simple. Mamba likes to say what she means. Mamba likes people to mean what they say. And when they don’t mean it, or even if they are uncertain, don’t say it. There’s nothing wrong with silence.

Whenever I talk about people and their intentions, the focus almost always shifts to love. It comes up so often because love is one of the purest things you can offer someone. God is love. I don’t think it gets more pure than that. And even for those who don’t believe in God, when you feel love, I’m not talking the surface joint – or even necessarily the romantic joint – but when you’re in the presence of love, nothing beats that.

And yet, as a woman, if I want to be loved, I’m expected to play some kind of stupid game. Or, I have to deal with people that treat love like leprosy. Uncontrollable. All encompassing. Deadly. I may have said this before, but I happen to be one of those women who don’t wait to hear the “L” word before she uses it. I think the entire rationale is juvenile. I know those who think that when a woman uses that word first, she surrenders her power over the man. At one point, I was a person who would not share feelings until the guy said something first. I’m 32. If I’m involved with a person to the extent that I love them (no small feat), then I think it would be positively stupid on my part not to tell them.

I don’t do this because I expect to ride off into the sunset. I don’t do it because I expect that relationship to be forever. I do it because I know that life is short, and if someone means something to you, you should tell them. I take great pains to eliminate “I wish I said” from my lexicon.

Unfortunately, the straight shooter is not in demand. We are so comfortable with hiding from each other, with lying to each other, with taking one another for granted, that when you open your mouth to say, “You know, I like you, and I like who I am when I’m with you,” people run in fear. I haven’t allowed it to make me weary, but it does sometimes make me worry. Relationships are being being built on the sand that is deception and fear at an alarming rate. My discomfort with the way people feed lies to others is only surpassed by the ease in which people seem to be willing to choke those lies down.

And I’m the anomaly, because I can’t accept it. As much as I complain about being single, I acknowledge the fact that it’s a choice, because if I had the ability to swallow what my gut told me was untrue, if I mastered the art of delusion, I probably wouldn’t be single. But I won’t. I know that I’m true; more true than any broad that plays the game. And if I can be true after being hurt, picking myself up and dusting myself off, I’m really not trying to hear excuses as to why others can’t.

So what do I do in the meantime? Be fly, happy, and dance on Saturday nights like there’s no tomorrow.

*This is not to say that there are no topics that I find daunting, or challenging. But these things are most assuredly the exception, and not the rule.