There It Is!

My father is in the hospital with a respiratory ailment. . . damn cigarettes! I haven't lost the 7lbs I gained while in Hawaii back in January and my beautician used lye, instead of no lye, on part of my head. So, I'm a tad bit depressed, feeling bloated and am somewhat scarred in the "kitchen" are of my scalp. And yet all I want is some dick. There it is!

Let me say this. . . . I haven't really missed dick. I have sorely missed companionship, manly hugs and intimate conversations, but not dick.

I haven't had a real date since last June. There it is!

But I am okay with that, for some odd reason. Yet, I miss having a man in my life. What does all this mean? I don't want the hassle of dating and sharing my sexual history, but I do want a romantic relationship. I can't have one without the other. Right?

What scares me the most is being alone when I get older.. . . when all my friends have life partners. Will I still be having this same conversation with myself?

Bottom line is I'm beginning to get scared. There it is!

Ole Miss

Here I sit in Mississippi. I never need to come back here again. And I mean that.

I was pretty stressed out before I came here, which is expressed so poigently in my last blog. This week has gone by so painstakingly slow that I wonder if God is playing a cruel joke on me during this holy week.

This trip was all about service learning for the students. And many of them have learned alot about themselves, this community (Tutwiler, MS) and how to lay the foundation for a house (thanks Habitat for Humanity). I'll be honest with you.. . . . I haven't learned a damn thing about myself or this community. Well, let me say, I haven't learned anything new.

It has been confirmed that I never needed to come to MS. I can see poverty and hopelessness in my hometown. I can get angry about the state of Black folks in the privacy of my own home. There was no need for me to live, shit and sleep in close quarters with students. For the most part, I already do that.

Tonight, I am supposed to share my personal transformation with the students. How has this week changed me? So, I've decided to lie. I don't want to kill their joy.

I'll talk about watching them grow this week, being proud of their hard labor and ability to get along during such a busy and tiring week. I will wish great things for them and encourage them to continue to create positive change in the world.

Doesn't that sound maternal and inspiring?

What I'll really be thinking is "I can't wait to shave my legs, get a massage, sleep in my own bed and take a shower without shower shoes. I can't wait to get the fuck away from you people. I did the whole saving the world shit for ten years. I'm done. It's your turn. Smooches!"

I think I'll finish that chocolate vanilla nut cigar and have two drinks.

WELL. . . . .

As I sit here with a pain in my left leg from trying to do a new position when masturbating, I realize that my life has taken a turn for the worse.

There it is!

Last night, after smoking half of a chocolate vanilla nut cigar and having a vodka with grapefruit juice, I decided that maybe I needed to experience an orgasm. That's the only remedy I could come up with to rid myself of this funky mood. Well, my C batteries were dead. . . . I MEAN DEAD. So, I resorted to the small A battery device that will get the job done without all the bells and whistles.

Life has really taken a wrong turn. I am not sure it's just circumstance or me. I am going to Mississippi - a state I vowed never to visit after reading the autobiography of Fannie Lou Hamer. I am going with 22 college kids who I see every fucking day and three facilitators - all who get on my nerves in one way or another. School is so boring that I have to doodle to stay awake in class. I only exercised once this week. I actually lied to my trainer this morning. I've never lied to my trainer. When he asked how my diet was going, I said, "Great, actually". Then I had to add a little something extra so I said, "I've lost a half pound". I mean I did, but that was last week. . .before the trip to Fenton's Ice Creamery and Barney's Burger Joint and that baked potato with cheese, chili and sour cream.

People, I haven't read a novel, magazine. . . not even my own horoscope in months! It takes me weeks to finally get to the dry cleaners and Target. And obviously shit is happening, but I ain't writing it down. What the fuck is going on?

I can't remember the last time I tried to meditate, pray or work on being a diva. Can't remember.

My trainer, bless his heart, told me I need that pill. What pill? The man pill! I could have kicked him in his hard, well shaped pectoral muscles. That motherfucker! Now, I know if I got some dick the clouds would part, the rain would stop, there would be no more mudslides and I would be able to find the time to get my hair done. But obviously, I AIN'T GOT NO MAN! I told him he should work on that for me. He's all concerned about my health and well being. Get me a beautiful Black man who is not intimidated by my personality and education and likes big woman. Do that! Forget bicep curls. I want to fuck and laugh and cuddle and talk.

Now, that I've gotten that out, I need a nap. Wonder if Target has C batteries on sale.