I miss Whitney Houston. I mean Whitney Houston, B.C. (Before Crack). I hate when things change and they change for the worst. This is a clear sign that I am getting old. I remember when I was young and my Dad would reminisce about some friend he had "who got on that dope", never to be heard from again.

Get it together Whitney. I'm sure your husband's new reality show ain't going to help your recovery.

I am thankful. . No. . Really, I am

I want to thank the capitalistic bastard who came up with the idea of a profit driven society where workers can enjoy their lives only two days out of seven. I want to thank our dominant culture for the stress and emotional irritation that begins to permeate through out my body every Sunday evening at 10pm, when I set my alarm for 6am.

I want to thank the genius who invented the elliptical machine. I know you made it just to torture my hips and thighs. I KNOW YOU DID! DON'T DENY IT!!

I want to thank Madame C.J. Walker for the relaxer. I want to thank who ever made Pink Oil. I want to thank God for her ingenious way of getting rid of body heat. Yet, I'm hoping that as we evolve as human beings, our sweat glands will permanently close up on our heads so that I can stop buying the heavy Pink Oil cream that keeps my hair from going back to Africa. Not that there's anything wrong with natural hair.

Lastly, I want to thank my Dad for asking how my event went over this past weekend. With one question, my daddy reminded me that I want a life partner who asks me about my work and interests.

Whew! I had to bring myself out of that funky space. Maybe it's all just PMS.. . . I want to thank the chauvinistic ---hole who came up with PMS.

Let it go. . . . Amber. . . . Let it go. . .

Be Blessed!

Bored

Life seems so boring right now. I've been trying to perk up. I instituted Fabulous Fridays, but find that I don't have the energy to be fabulous most Friday evenings.

I don't know why I'm so tired all the time. I mean, it's not like I'm doing anything exciting or strenuous. If it wasn't for my gym routine, I wouldn't get rid of any calories I take in. All I do is get up, go to the gym, go to work, leave early because I don't have shit to do, come home, play on the computer, do homework, watch TV and go to bed. That's my day. . .everyday.

School is so boring. Nothing exciting about scholarly writing. What's the difference between a semi colon and a colon? Who gives a shit?! I don't, but I should.

When friends call and ask what I've been up to, I say "nothing". And that's the truth. Nothing is going on! It's not like I want drama in my life. Something to look forward to would be nice. Any suggestions?

I keep saying that summer is almost here and surely something worth talking about will happen. But I said that when spring was on its way. I'm still waiting.

I know part of the problem is my resolution to pay down my debt in 2005. I haven't been to a concert all year. I know it's only April, but I'm big on concerts, big or intimate. I'm not having sex. That makes every day just a tad bit longer. I don't go the movies, go out to dinner or even talk on the phone on a regular basis.

All this boredom has lead this D.I.T. to look at my life through a different lense. I ain't got shit else to do. So, I figure that God is giving me a rest from the craziness. She is preparing me a summer and fall that is going to test my ability to remain sane and organized.

I've decided to get ready. I'm ironing clothes, sewing buttons on shirts, finally hemming those pants, making several hair appointments for the summer, doing an extra set of sit ups and making sure I know what the hell I want out of life. I have a feeling something is going to be thrown at me. I need to be ready to take it in or throw it back.

Boredom is a respite from all the worry, doubt and excrutiating joy that comes with living life.

I better add an extra set of push ups.

Be Blessed!

Deviant Behavior

Since I am extremely bored at work, I have begun to read AOL news. There are some fascinating things happening in the world. This week I was amazed by a story that came out of Germany.

Now, let me see if I can get this right. . . A male cannibal was in court asking for a lesser sentence. I think he went to jail for manslaughter. Let me tell you what he did. He, lets call him. . . . . Canni ate a man. The victim - lets call him Vic - wanted to be eaten alive.

Stick with me, people. I am getting to the point here.

Vic had a sexual fetish. He got off by being eaten alive. Question: How do you know if you have this fetish if you can only be eaten alive once? Back to the story. Vic asked Canni to eat him. This story is making me tired. Anyway, so Canni videotaped Vic saying, "I want to be eaten alive". Then Canni, while being videotaped, severed Vic's penis. CUT OFF HIS DICK! You then see Canni and Vic trying to eat the penis. When they couldn't do it "raw" (which always meant no condom to me, when discussing penis') Canni threw it in a frying pan. Would you like a little penis sauteed in butter? Then Canni and Vic ate Vic's dick.

Question: After cutting off your dick are you coherent enough to wait for it to be cooked and then eat it?

After the appetizer, Canni went about cutting up Vic for the main course. Bon Appetit!

Canni's lawyer said that Canni should get a lesser charge because it was obvious that Vic wanted it. Canni now understands that he can't do this. He's learned his lesson. He won't do it again.

No Comment. . . . .

Question: Where do people come up with this shit?!

My Cocoon

I went into a cocoon in November 2004. I had been thinking about it for some time. I was feeling like a grimy, slow moving, slimy caterpillar. I wanted to feel like a butterfly again. So, Veteran's Day weekend I went into my cocoon to work on some personal shit.

I know my friends thought I was crazy. I know that many of them thought I was being stupid and didn't support my need for a transformation. Fuck 'em. I needed to be by myself. To be honest, part of being in my cocoon was to get away from those friends who spoil my mood and my ability to stay positive.

So, every weekend for a good six weeks I stayed home. I meditated. I slept. I prayed. I attended church. I spent lots of time with my 85 year old great aunt. I made a list of everything I wanted to do/work on. You see, I am still in my cocoon. . . until the end of August.

My list is long, but centers around keys themes:
1. Relationship with God
2. Relationship with myself
3. Being consistent in my endeavors
4. Improving my mental, physical and emotional health
5. Finding value in my life's journey
I swear each theme has at least five bullet points, but I figured a ten month cocoon was long enough to get on the right track.

I seem to be doing well. I find great joy in being alone with myself. I feel more connected to my God. I am consistent with some endeavors and constantly working on others. I am a regular at the gym and I laugh more than cry. Finally, I am grateful for every life experience, good or bad. Each experience has added to the complex tapestry that is me.

Life Lesson: Cocoons keep you safe from the harsh actions and judgments of others so that you can build your strength, enhance your ability to grow and nourish your soul. I'm going to be a beautiful butterfly.

Be Blessed!

My Cheat Day

I have been meeting with a personal trainer for eight weeks now. My mom thinks it is a waste of money. I think not. I can actually feel the muscle underneath my fat! Miracles do happen!

My personal trainer, Todd, is beautiful. Tall, light skinned brotha, with freckles and muscles, everywhere. More importantly, he is educated, has great taste in music and refuses to let me get lazy.

Working with a trainer, such as Todd, can be hard on a fat girl like me. Todd is very disciplined. He will go without alcohol, sweets and fried foods. He expects me to do the same. Todd is on crack!

Let's face facts here, people. I am spoiled, selfish and love to eat. This also means that I don't like to give up what brings me joy and I'm sedentary. . . not lazy. I like to lounge in my pajamas, drink wine and eat ice cream. Doesn't that sound fun? I'm a debutante for God's sake!

Anyway, Todd said I could have one cheat day a week to eat what I want and not exercise. I have to be on top of shit the rest of the week. My cheat day is Friday. Just saying the word "Friday" makes my mouth water. Friiiidaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Hmmmm. Now, I can't go overboard. One or two drinks not three. Fried food, but not for every meal.

I look forward to Fridays like a dog in heat. Friday is the most glorious day, rain or shine. Friday is better than low priced gas, tuition remission and a date after a long dry spell. Friday is better than sex. There it is! I've said it! Better than the most sensuous sex ever created. I covet Fridays.

Todd has warned me that soon my cheat day will be gone. We'll have to take this whole life changing thing up a notch. DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!

A nicely chilled Pinot Grigio would do me well right now. Oohhhh. . . . a glass of wine with a big fat burrito from Poncho Villa and for dessert. . . . Ben and Jerry's Heath Bar Crunch.

God help me.

Diva Lesson: Cheat days keep your addictions in check, without making you go cold turkey. Thanks Todd.

Church

Let me start off by saying that I believe there is a God. I've seen the power of God in my own life. That does not mean that I need to go to church on a regular basis. There it is! I've said it!

I stopped going to church some ten years ago when a preacher told me that I was going to hell with the Jews and Muslims. . . . . Jesus was a Jew. I believe that God, in all His/Her infinite wisdom created several different ways to know him/her. I think it is amazing that we limit ourselves by proclaiming that God loves us all, but will only choose those who seek him/her through Jesus. God is more powerful than that, in my personal opinion.

I have started attending church again. It is a church that I have visited off and on my whole life. American Baptist, quite liberal and respectful of other religions. I began attending church because I felt that my relationship with God was dimishing. I was getting caught up in work, school and friends. I wasn't feeling centered. I was no longer in touch with that part of me that is supposed to be God like.

I like going to church. . periodically. I know myself. I go to church for the sense of community. Sometimes I want to praise God with others and hear the great sermons that Pastor Jim shares with the congregation. But God knows me. Most Sundays I would rather drink a cup of coffee, read the newspaper and watch "Sunday Morning with George Stepanopulous ( however you spell his name). I revel in God's love more on those days than when in church. God understands. I really don't care if anyone else does.

Diva Lesson: Many will think I am going to hell. I know that I will be amongst many friends and family members.

Be Blessed!

Letting A Friend Go

We stopped being friends when he said he was "married" (in the Muslim tradition, not legally), but still wanted to sleep with me. We really stopped being friends when he invited me to his "wife's" baby shower.

He wanted to be friends again when she left him and had him arrested for abuse.

I'll admit it: I am good at staying friends with my ex boyfriends. Why? I guess it's because I easily forgive, I'm too nice and when you're in a relationship you do become friends, hopefully.

He called me to let me know the latest, which I thought was odd because we hadn't talked in almost a year. He wanted to be friends again. I told him, "I just can't be your friend. You've gotten yourself into a really big mess and I can't support you while you're going through all this. You really fucked up and I can no longer emotionally support you while you pull yourself out. Fucking grow up! Stop relying on me and my ever growing wisdom to sustain you in your chaos. I ain't the one."

I wished him all the luck in the world. I prayed that everything will work out for him. I thanked him for being in my life. Through my friendship with him, I have learned so much about myself. I am more clear about my own personal boundaries.

Diva Lesson: Some people need to work out their personal shit on their own.

Be Blessed!