Word 8: Bridge

Bridge…

Is it a surprise that even though I’ve chosen to illustrate this post with that of a physical bridge…the first thing I thought of was the bridge in a song?

Is it just me or do a lot of songs nowadays lack a decent bridge. For those who aren’t quite sure what the purpose of a bridge in a song is for…it’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s the “high point” in a song that takes the song from a verse into a chorus. Some of my favorite songs are my favorites because of the melody, change in tempo.

Anyway…I thought of that…and “the bridge is over, the bridge is over”…from KRS1

I’m out. I’m too tired to be deep or fun. lol

The Eighth Day…

…a day you realized what you wanted to do/be

I know you guys are gonna laugh at me…but, when I was about 7 or 8, my mom asked me what I wanted to be. I told her a………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….clown. LOL

I didn’t REALLY want to be a clown, but I loved McDonald’s and I loved Ronald. I might’ve been craving some Mickey D’s…I don’t know. lol

The truth is…when I was younger I used to want to be a counselor. Perhaps even at 12, it seemed my job was to listen to my friends’ problems. “What kinda problems can a 12yr old have?” you ask.

“My mother hates me…”

“I can’t stand my siblings!!”

“Why doesn’t he like me?”

Yea…seems small, but in a tween’s world…that’s everything. I love being there for my friends and figuring out ways to cheer them up. I wanted to do that because it never dawned on me to take my writing and build on it.

Writing was such second nature mechanics to me. It was like air, eating, taking showers…I wrote everything down and in detail. Journals, letters, and sketched stories were the ways I expressed myself. I could articulate how hurt I was, how angry I was…far better with a letter than an actual conversation. Poetry and even song lyrics began to fill my notebooks and I never once thought of doing it for a living….

I did consider teaching. I loved bringing knowledge to people. It was like offering water in a bottomless goblet of enrichment. I would take my small (not pocket) dictionary everywhere. It was riddled with lines. Squiggly red, blue, green, circles. My favorite things were color coded. Everything one color…flowers, the Greek alphabet, names for fairies, states, and synonyms for everyday words…all beautifully highlighted. My ex saw my dictionary one day and said, “Wow, baby…I’ve never seen anyone treat a dictionary like a regular book the way you do…”

Still, I found all kinds of interests. Did I want to be a fashion designer? I drew all of the time and often played with the idea of style. Did I want to be a gemologist? I loved jewelry and stones. Did I want to be a chef? I love to cook and could totally cater. Did I want to sing? NO. I CAN sing…my ass off, even…but that was never my dream. Too shy for stage displays.

Finally, right before settling into what I KNOW…writing…I had a temporary yen to be an event planner. I wanted to plan weddings and everything fabulous! My sister and I had even recruited a friend to be a partner for a short time in what we called “Pretty Pleased”. We researched, held bi-weekly meetings and did group assignments to acclimate ourselves to the world of planning on a budget. That fell through and left me listless for a bit.

…then I wrote my book. “Twisted Heart”. What began as a way to stay occupied during the day, morphed into a full-on novel of the suspense-drama-thriller kind. I started that book one day back in 2005 and now here I am…8 years later…and still clutching to it like an overprotective mother.

I’ll release her soon…she needs to be set free. Even if only for the sensation of having let go. I have also embraced my art in another way through Fancy Face Kreations…both art and writing have always held core spaces in my soul…it was only a matter of time before they bubbled up and introduced themselves. lol

Snapshot #8: Feet

Photo of: Feet

Today’s challenge falls right into place with my latest pedi 🙂

I used Sally Hansen’s Salon Effects in Kitty Kitty last night. Instead of using it on the entire fingernail, I made a Leopard “French” and used the majority of the strips on my toes! I love it. ~rawwwrrr~ hehe

I also managed to get my foot into that shoe ^^^ that up until now, eluded me. My feet have been swollen for a while now from foot pain and now I can get back into my shoes. They’re 2 1/2″ of comfort 🙂

I also thought I’d take a pic of the shoe that I thought was SO cute, wore once and never again…LOL

They’re actually too big…::sigh:: LOL
Yep…there’s the feet. 🙂

8~ Ownlee Eue

Do you think you can be in love with two people at the same time?

Nope.

Yep, it’s my opinion…but, nope.

Yes, I’ve been in love with one and loving the other…but, the in love part is reserved for the person who I believe invades my thoughts when the other person is in my space.

When I was “in love” with my ex of 8 1/2yrs…I realized part-way that I was still in love with my first. I didn’t get over the 1st until I’d shaken the feelings of the dude I was with for most of my 20’s. What I’ve learned is that in retrospect is when things become clearest. If I had to undoubtedly state whom I was in love with between the two…it would be the 1st love. Dude of 8 1/2yrs, was my first “real” relationship (where the conditions of our union were conducive to a standard relationship…ie. no hiding). He was the one who showed me responsibility, and not just love. He was in love with me…but, I was still holding onto the 1st.

This question connects to the previous question about having been deeply in love. I honestly feel that I loved Mr. 8.5 deeply…because that is how I love…deeply. I deeply love my friends and family. I said that to say…that when I love, it’s ALL in with me. I can’t half-ass love. One foot in this direction…the other in that one. Even when I realized WITHIN my relationships with Mr. 8.5 that I wasn’t in love with him (just his love for me) I still understood that I’d made a commitment and was there until I couldn’t be anymore.

Here’s an extra scenario. This is more honest than I’m even sure I SHOULD be…but here it goes. When I was with my ex, after I began realizing that he wasn’t faithful…I allowed myself to be emotionally drawn into an affair with someone married. He told me that he felt he was in love with his wife and me. I told him that I believed he was in love with the PARTS of me that his wife had either lost along the way…or never possessed. To that end…I think we’re in love with the tidbits of different lovers. I’m not quite sure that once we put them all together that there’s as much as a struggle as we think. I think we often get scared of the potential hurts and when given two people we care so much about, we hold onto those two people for emotional security. That married dude couldn’t have been in love with me AND his wife…no more than I was in love with him AND the man I was loving at the time. We were each other’s comfort when we were dissatisfied and found in one another the romanticized version of love.

Take my favorite Romantic movie…The Notebook. When Allie was reunited with her “true love”…she had already committed to marrying someone else. In the wake of believing that she and her true love had no chance…she opened herself up to someone new…and fell for him. When she saw her true boo again, all those feelings came flooding back, mixed with the anger of what she THOUGHT was abandonment and the reality that she’s still in love with him. Even when she broke off with her fiance…she said, “I already know I should be with you”. Not because he was “the one”, but because the relationship made the most sense on paper. It was the one her parents approved of and the one that helped her move past some of the hurt and disappointment of the first.

If we learned to let go of the past…we might find that some of these things would become more clear in the moment instead of needing hindsight to see where we were at one point in our lives. I wanna fine tune the NOW!

Okay…that was a lengthy explanation. I guess this one really strikes a chord. I’m done…whatever. Let’s Jam!!

Dia Ocho~ Someone Who Made My Life Hell…



…or treated me like shit?


HA! LOL…::excuse me why I chuckle some::


I am not comfortable saying that someone “made my life hell” or “treated me like shit”. For that reason, I may have subconsciously beat around this blog’s bush. I feel like I’d be giving someone power to take my peace of heaven (my mind) away…or consider me nothing (like shit). Yet, I guess…that’s what it was, huh?


Well, since it was stated in two parts (made my life hell and treated me like shit), I’mma shout out the two people who managed to make the team…TEAM FUCKME!


Who made my life hell?


For 8 1/2yrs I lived with someone. I wrote about the abuse in my blog for domestic violence. My ex, managed to abuse me mentally, emotionally and verbally where his physical attempts failed. Some of the moments that were intensely hellish?

  • Doing a vaginal check to make sure I didn’t smell like another man (YES, man…)
  • Star 69’ing my phone calls to make sure I wasn’t calling another man (he always got my family)
  • Forcing sex
  • Embarrassing me in public with controlling and compulsive behavior (ie. the time we were ousted from a movie theater for his paranoid belief that a couple was staring and laughing at us. We were the only couples in the theater. He kept talking shit loudly until security asked us to leave. They gave us our money back and we left…yea, he was on some shit)
  • Harassing my female friends via phone
  • Projecting his own insecurities onto me about weight, style of dress, our age difference (he was 22yrs older than me)

The list is very long…that’s just the tip of the blue hell iceberg. I stopped…well, because to delve any further is to go places I’ve promised myself I need not revisit for the sake of peace of mind.


Who treated me like shit?


My ex of 2 1/2yrs…kinda


I say kinda, because for what it’s worth…there was no physical abuse, there was no verbal disparaging, there wasn’t an ounce of displayed disrespect. All that he did, he did behind my back and thought I didn’t know. Some things were evident and most were not.


His treatment of me was more on the level of a mental game he liked to play. Yes, this too is abuse. No excuses. With this guy, his manipulations and lies were more subtle and borderline cruel in their conception. Whenever you promise marriage, children, a life…to a woman with no intent to follow-through, but systematically reinforces his love with tender concern, daily attention (from a distance no less)…that is a sense of torture. The fucked up thing is…that in spite of my awareness of this shit, I attempted to cape myself Cap’n Save-A-Sucka. Thinking somehow what a lot of us women think…that we can give them the love they seemingly need to be better. It doesn’t work. If a person’s intent is to be dubious, then your love will never seem genuine to them. You know why? It’s because when someone is doing dirt…they project their shit onto you. “How can she love me…when I don’t love her?” He may even ask if he deserves this “love”…that is…if he beholds a conscience.


There ya go. Day 8. Bring on the next 22 days…