5~ If You’re A Bird…I’m A Bird…

Favorite Romantic Movie

The Notebook…

I could’ve said, “Love Jones”…because honestly, that movie rocks and one of the key lines in that movie that speak to me is, “I love you…and that’s urgent like a mothafucka!”. I mean, in the day and age of excuses upon reasons upon alibis, upon treasons for why one cannot commit…it sounds good coming out of a man’s mouth that love is about urgency…even if it’s just a line in a movie. I loved me some Darius and Nina…because they spoke to me as a couple who were both so artistic and bonded off of those passionate stanzas and camera clicks. I could’ve chosen them…

Or “Titanic” with it’s epic romance of obligatory relationships, love-at-first-sight whims, artistic interludes and music that could pluck the heart strings of even the coldest heart. I loved Jack and Rose…and how he showed her that she could let go and be free…to answer the call of her heart without compromise. How to live for herself and not others…how to be okay with not having the world in material possessions…to have the world in her soul. Yea…I love them, too.

I could’ve picked, “Love and Basketball”. Love one on one. “I’ll play you for your heart…” MAN…I love that movie. Quincy and Monica…balling it out…and sometimes bawling it out in the name of love…oh, and basketball. lol. Yet another story that spoke to my love of love spanning from era to era. Young puppy love, high school love (at first unrequited), college sweethearts…and then going their separate ways. That moment, when you’re in the middle of doing that thing that the two of you did together and wondering why you’re doing it, now that you’re apart. Could’ve picked them easily…

I could’ve chosen those (amongst countless others that have had me snotting as I lived vicariously through the lead couple’s ups and downs, realizations and sometimes not-so-fairytale endings) but, the one that had the most range of love and emotions was, “The Notebook”.

God, I could’ve been Allie. At one point in the movie…she’s being asked what SHE wants and all she can think about is who she’ll hurt. I could’ve been NOAH for goodness sakes…pining away for a lost love. Having that gaping void that no one could occupy but the one who made you freer than you ever thought you could be.

I loved how he courted her…persistent, with all he had, big sweeping gestures…but then reinforcing them with the most tender moments. (I smile as I write) I loved how he wrote her a letter everyday for a year…that is fucking DEDICATION! Here he is, this young dude…could have any local chick and he’s penning love notes for his lady…EVERYDAY for a YEAR! Man, folks can’t even be consistent and CALL a bish everyday for a MONTH…and you have this cat using up the ink in his inkwell…messing up good paper (expensive as hell back then) to write someone who may never (and almost didn’t ever) see them. Noah even renovated the house that they both dreamed would be their home. He did this even though he hadn’t laid eyes on her in several years since their tragic break up. Even when they weren’t together…he was living for her love. ~sigh~

Yet, the love that rounds it out the most…is the spin on the story that begins the whole movie. Noah as an old man…living in a nursing facility (though he doesn’t have to) to tend to an ailing older Allie who is now suffering from dementia.

This dude is sitting there…DAILY, re-reading a book of their love story…JUST so he can capture a glimpse of the woman he remembers. The woman who remembers HIM. Imagine…loving someone SO much, that you cant and won’t let go in your heart. You pursued them until you couldn’t anymore…and then when given an opportunity, you seized it and was always willing to let them go if it was what THEY needed to do…loving someone enough to let them go. That hurts more than being let go or letting go because you felt they weren’t the one. To have a chance to get right what went wrong is beautiful…it ain’t everyone’s story…but, it’s a hell of a love story nonetheless.

Yea…The Notebook was and is a classic romantic movie for me. If it came on now (no commercial interruptions) I’d watch. I cannot watch that movie on network TV. It kills the flow. I must watch without any scenes being edited for a 2hr time slot. A story of epic proportions…spanning from sweetheart love to “the end of time” love. Everything I’ve ever thought love could be.

“Say, I’m a bird…”
“You’re a bird! …”
“Now say you’re a bird…”
“If you’re a bird…I’m a bird”


Chrisette Michelle’s “Notebook”…not from the soundtrack of course…but apropos nonetheless 😉

Quit Playing, Mookie!!

Damn, Mookie!!! “Why can’t you just be a MAN, Mookie.  Be a FUCKING MAN, Mookie!!” ~ “Tina” (Rosie Perez) “Do The Right Thing”

I love that movie…I love that LINE! More than anything, I love to say it to just about anyone male or female when either, they are actually playing with me (for shits and giggles) or they are TRYING to play me O_O.

What pisses me off and will make me consider detachment, dis-ownership or a straight dolphin’s fin slap across your mouf…is emotional games. I have had this convo with 2 of my SiStars in one week and I must say…we’re in complete disbelief at how some people love to be vague. 

My sis Joy says, that when a guy likes you and won’t say so…what he’s really doing is waiting for you to be assed out and laid out vulnerable so he can be SURE that you’re feeling him. YET…if after you’ve stripped down ball ass naked and he’s STILL not declared any feelings, he’s playing this game:

I-want-her-to-like-me-more-than-I-like-her-so-she-won’t-go-anywhere-but-if-it-goes-wrong-and-I- discover-I-DON’T-want-to-be-tied-down-I-can-say…”I NEVER SAID THAT!”


NOT COOL!! What…WHY is it so hard for a grown ass adult to say what is on his mind? Why is it that these men of THIS day and age want absolute assuredness concerning the object of his potential affection? The days of High School rejection are gone. At least they SHOULD be. There IS risk to the ego when avowing interest in a woman…but, SO WHAT!!! Say what it is. Do something about what you want…and YES, men are the captains of the ship called “Courtship”. 




Yes, courtship is the man’s arena. He should be the one to speak up. I’m an analog girl living in a digital world (LOL). I don’t do desperate chases of men. I don’t do half-assed averments. Either you say, “I like you” or some related phrase and let me as a woman say what I want from that point, or clearly you’re not THAT interested. I’m tired of giving guys the excuse of “He’s scared”. O_O Grow some testicular fortitude, jump on her back and tame that filly. Okay…don’t jump on her back guys…but you feel me. Any guy sitting back in the belief that HE should be chased…is questionable in his security as a man. Say what you want guys…no dude is supposed to sit securely on the sidelines and await to be asked to dance. Stuff that Sadie Hawkins shit back where it came from. 

I feel if a man cannot speak up to say “Hi, My name is Dick…nice to meet you Kitty Jones”…then I wonder if he’ll stand up for me. For himself in our union. For us against others. If women take the aggressive courting role, is she not emasculating her counterpart? Besides, you know we live in a “damned” society. Damned if you do…damned if you don’t. 

She takes the lead…she’s a controlling, ball-busting, possibly gold-digging, bitch.

She doesn’t…she’s a frigid, possibly stuck-up, insecure woman afraid of her own shadow.

I think it’s important to be able to speak up and say what you want as a man. After that, a woman who is mutually interested in you should meet you halfway and join the courtship or excuse herself. NO one should play emotional games with another. In this world of extreme reaction to minor infractions…you can get hurt. LITERALLY. Not saying ~I~ would do such a thing, but I know folks who aren’t too keen on the idea of being played with. If you’ve stopped eating “hot lunch” in a cafeteria and calling your classes “periods”…then you may just be too old for this shit.

Come on, Mookie…quit playing. Okay?

"Wriiiiiiiite" ~Celie

Writing…it is the next thing we’re taught behind reading. It’s the next reasonable step to becoming literate and worthy of “moving up” in school. Don’t get me started on actual comprehension, composition and flair…those are totally relevant to each student’s capacity and willingness to learn. What I AM referring to…is the passion to write.

I have been writing (in the passionate sense) since I was in grade school. We had to have “salt & pepper” composition books with our names on them. We would be given a time of day, each day…to write our thoughts journal-style. No one was to read our writings but the teacher. WELL…clearly, as much as people like to dip in my business NOW…they did so then. I was out sick one day. When I returned…some of the girls in my class (which was comprised of 5th and 6th grade “above average” humanities students) …were standing waiting for me at my desk.  We made our way up to the coveted third and top floor of the school and into the one class that housed a stage.  It was also connected by way of the cloak room to the music room…this class was my haven. Yet, before we’d gotten there…none of the friends who spoke to me all of the time paid me any attention.  I didn’t think anything of it. So, I approached my desk they figuratively tapped their Buster Browns in anticipation of my arrival to confront me…meanwhile, my heart dropped at what they could possibly want.
“Why did you say you cant stand ******?”
“I didn’t say that…” I replied
“Yes you did…it’s right HERE!” as one pulls out my book and shows me my entry.
“I didn’t SAY anything…I wrote it.” I justified.
“Are you being smart?” one asked, who was a 6th grader to my 5th grade status.
“No, I’m answering your question. Anyway, it’s my book and no one is supposed to read it.”
“Well, we did…and we don’t like what you said. She cried when she saw this. You should be careful what you write.”
They didn’t speak to me all day…and quite possibly a few weeks longer. I actually remember that in the interim, a new girl came to the class named, Samantha…who I became fast friends with.  As I played with Samantha, sat with Samantha, had lunch with Samantha, slept over Samantha’s house…they slowly but surely befriended me again. They had no idea that I wouldn’t cry. They also didn’t know me very well…I wrote everything they did to me down in that very book! Hmph!
After that, I kept several more journals that got violated down the road…yet, I keep writing in them. I wonder why? LOL
My desire to write is so strong that I write drivel when thinking. When I’m sad, I will doodle and write affirmations to myself. I’m always writing in some form…even if I’m not composing a blog, or a story or statusing/tweeting. Writing to me is like air. I write, even if I never post it or share it with another soul. Writing is my best friend…and it never lets me down. I don’t have to worry about what writing thinks of me…it loves me. It gives back to me WAY more than I give to it. 
I felt this movie line DEEP down the first time I heard it…
“If when you wake up in the morning, the first thing you think about is writing…then you’re a writer” ~Sister Mary Clarence/Whoopi Goldberg — Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit
That speaks VOLUMES to me. I go to SLEEP thinking of things to write. I wake up with plays, musicals and songs fluttering about in my brain. Writing is NOT formulating words in sensible paragraphs. It is projecting your soul into those paragraphs and evoking feeling, response and in some cases…awe, with those very words.
I am a writer…nice to meet you 🙂