Word 28: Shoes

Shoes…

I think of this word as less noun and more proverbially. So often I find people questioning the lives of those they see…people whose shoes they’d kill to walk in.

I”ve seen a pair of BAD ass shoes and even if I thought they were stylish and something I’d wear if I could, I’m aware that I can’t walk in heels over 2 1/2″. I can LIKE someone else’s shoes…covet them, even…but, if given an opportunity…could I successfully walk in them? I’d most likely fall and bust my ass.

We see people’s lives and ask, “I wish I was him/her…” but whatever it took for them to get their shoes…you don’t know. They could have worked EXTREMELY hard to get their shoes…or they could have been handed them as a gift…OR it could have been obtained in an ill-gotten manner. Stolen…cheated.

My shoes are mine, broken in by me, fitting my understanding, You may not fit mine and I may not fit yours. We could wear the same size and still not be comfortable in each other’s shoes.

I like my shoes. I think I’ll keep the ones I’m wearing. Someone else might have Athlete’s foot or something. lol

The Twenty Eighth Day…

…the day you had your first fight. why?

I think my first REAL fight was within my family. My cousin Tisha who is three years older than me, ALWAYS tried to boss me around. She’d hug me like I was some stuffed animal against my will until I broke free. Or she’d drag me around like I was a rag doll, bellowing my name in her southern accent. Sheesh, it was like nails on a chalkboard.  I’m sure our fight started stupidly because well…we were kids. lol

Now, mind you…Tisha was always a tad jealous of me. I don’t know why…well, that’s not entirely true. I do know why. My uncles were 7 and 8 years older than me and were like big brothers for most of my childhood. They would throw me in a Tonka truck and vrooom me around the room while I giggled. I was their baby. Tisha on the other hand was a pain and they didn’t like her that much. That always resulted in her vying for their attentions and she ended up losing.

For whatever reason this particular day…she’d plucked my last nerve with her bossy ways. She and I ended up fighting and all I can remember is her pulling on my hair to the point that it was loosening from the two twists it was in. Y’all remember that hairstyle that all little girls had? A twist on each side of the head parted down the middle…or the side if you were fancy. lol

Well, she tugged my hair so hard…it was like she was trying to pull it from the roots. The oldest of my two uncles could be heard yelling between his teeth, “LET GO OF HER HAIR!” Once she finally let go, he kept saying that he didn’t know WHAT was wrong with her and why she’d try to “pull out that baby’s hair”. lol

For years to come, she’d compete with me and struggle back and forth with wanting to hate me and love me. For the longest she’d say, “Everybody thinks Kali is so smart…”, “Everybody loves Kali…”, “Kali this…Kali that…”. I just wanted to know who in the hell EVERYBODY was. I wanted to meet them. lol She would talk about me like a DOG to anyone who’d listen, then turn around and beg my mom for me to stay the night with her.

It’s bananas…because, this kind of behavior became the norm for me. Eventually, throughout school…most chicks would feel this way about me while calling me a friend. I guess not much has changed…well, except for the fact that I’ve found friends who love me and don’t hate me for who I am.

Gotta love that “growing up” thing, huh? 🙂

28~ Heart Over Heat?

If you had a choice between a love relationship and just sex [guaranteed]…which would you choose?

Right now, I don’t know…

I really don’t. I’m at a point in my life where I’d just kill (not literally) to have my carnal desires fulfilled and left alone. I ain’t in the mood to have someone demanding of me a return of my affections all for them to get what they need and leave me wanting. It’s a cynical way to view it, but it’s been my experience the last few times I’ve been in a romantic entanglement.

What I miss about being “in love” is very simple. I miss the spooning at night, the tender kisses and the feeling of someone being concerned for me…needing to make sure I’m okay. I miss those things immensely…

Yet, I at times just need to be stroked right and put to sleep. Give me a kiss and go.

I’m torn. I am. The heart of me…the believer in love and relationships wants to be wrapped up and embraced daily by the nuances of love. I want to have breakfast with someone, plan a day of leisure, lie back in someone’s arms and nap, read together…just BE together…even if we’re just doing separate things in the same room…

The scorned part of me, just wants to be pleasured and have some go-to penile cord and that’s it! Just get sexed down and then be free to go on about my business without the tethers of love’s responsibility.

I think that a loveless sexual relationship with someone is lonely.  With all of my need to be in control of blocking painful situations…so I won’t end up alone nursing a broken heart, still garners loneliness. Once that person leaves and goes home…there is still no one to care. No one to whisper security into your soul…and that’s something I can’t quite get past.

I don’t know…maybe for now…I’ll just take the sex and reserve the right to change my mind at a later date. LOL

Dia Viente y Ocho~ What If I Were Pregnant…

Lil Kween tryna mother baby cousin

…or got someone pregnant?


Well, that last part makes me either a freak o’nature or my mind dick is POTENT! LOL


Sooooo…if I were pregnant. Well, that would require some sort of sexual activity or willingness on my part to be a surrogate mom or an invitro patient.


Let’s just say I DID do the pelvis pop with someone and got knocked up I’d be happy…as long as it was with someone who could be a full participant in parenthood. If I did manage to get fertilized by the neighborhood “gardener” who tended to NOT tend to his seeds…I’d still accept my gift and do the best I could to be a great mom.


I’ve wanted to be a mom for a long time. I always get the side eye from mothers. “Why do you want kids?” or the infamous “Be lucky you DON’T have anyone else to be responsible for…”.


~sigh~


I get the whole “it-takes-money-time-energy-youth-patience-and GOD” to raise a village…or at least a few denizens in your personal hut…but, I always wanted the experience of carrying to full term a child who shares my DNA and my idiosyncrasies and getting to see them form into their own person. At 38, the reality of this happening dwindles a little more everyday…especially with no real candidate for a husband. Either way…if I were pregnant…I’d thank God for trusting me with someone else’s life and do my best at not screwing them up. lol