When I tell you that my weekend was chock full, I am not exaggerating one iota! Said weekend started a bit early, as I set out from work around 2:15 to catch a bus up to NY that departed @ 3pm. The trip to NY was because I have a friend from college that was in a play which was closing, and I wanted to show support. So, with my calculations, the bus ride was scheduled to drop me on west 33rd & 7th @ 7:15, and the show was supposed to start at 8pm, meaning, that even if the bus was off by ½ an hour, I’d still have time to walk the .8 miles indicated on RandMcnally.com to 100 7th avenue (between Grove & Bleecker) in the village.

Yeah, right. So, what really happened was the bus driver took some round about-ass way to get to NY Avenue in DC, we hit traffic on 295 while trying to hit 95 and again on it, and he took a break. Meaning, we didn’t get to NY until just before 9pm. The only cool thing about that is I met a very intelligent young lady named Bofwa (I pray I spelled that right), whom I had the pleasure of discussing everything from Skip Gates to black America to Hip Hop.

So, as soon as the bus door opens, I head south to my destination, thinking that like DC blocks, I’d be able to get from 385 7th avenue to 100 7th avenue in a few blocks. Wrong! I walked about 30+ blocks before I got to the theatre house— my calves were burning and I was sweating.

My homegirl did not disappoint in her two woman play, and it I tried not to trip off of missing the first half, as I arrived just before intermission. I ran into another Howard Alum, one G. Alvarez Reid, with whom I chopped it up during intermission and after the show. Cool cat. So don’t remember ever knowing he’s a product of DC. Anyway, wind up hitting a spot next door afterwards (two doors down, really) called The Mixx, as they were serving half priced drinks for patrons and performers of the theatre.

I couldn’t drink because I hadn’t eaten a meal since breakfast, and it was close to 11pm by then (I don’t eat much while on long trips—because I have a fast metabolism—TMNI? Maybe.). A salad would’ve worked, but all they had was stuff I couldn’t or was to ‘noid to eat. So, we’re there for a couple few hours while everybody else gets tipsy and eats. I, pass the time by watching the Asian waitress with the plaid skirt and high leather boots, and watching everybody else enjoying themselves.

Some drunken white guy comes up and does a Michael Jackson impression for my friend that was lame and comical all in the same breath. He yells things I can’t understand, save for the obscenities, and daps me up…I smile like I know what he’s talking about. Eventually, we depart for Brooklyn (my friend and her two friends who were hella cool, but who’s names escape me because I was tired and hungry outta my mind by then). I have a convo about comic books with the dude, while she has a conversation with his fiancé, both who look early twenties, but are late 30’s and early 40’s respectively.

We arrive in the knick of time, as my home girl really needed to, well, go…and we settle in talking about this and that over peppermint tea. I fall out after a shower around 4, only to wake up @ 6:40 so I can leave just after 7 to catch my 8:30 bus. I make it back to DC just after one, my neck of the woods by two, hit up Target for drinks that I need to pick up for an annual BBQ that my peoples put together. Head home, create a couple of mix CD’s that never get handed out, make a playlist that never gets listened to, and hop in the shower. Get dress, head to NW, and stop past my Goddaughters birthday party up at HU to wish her well and pass on some words of wisdom. Eat for the first time (save some chips and a spring roll I neglected to mention at The Mixx), chicken, fruit—kind words, I love you, boom—I’m out to the BBQ. Do the BBQ, which leads to the title of this particular entry.

My boy Bru, messing with some riders on horse back, decided to crack wise and say, “I got a new plan, how ‘bout we knock the riders of the horses, and cook the horses”. Upon hearing this, the riders slowed down in disbelief, and started trotting cautiously. To which, my boy Dio, who by then had had way too much to drink I think, started yelling, “Run! We comin’ for ya! Obama!” At this point, they quickened their pace and pretty much ran, which made the whole thing hilarious. Like we were actually going to eat the horses or something. Hilarious. Trying not to laugh as I write this. Oh, Taboo was hilarious too.

So, once the rain threatened to wash out our event, we quickly broke down camp and rolled out. I didn’t have it in me to hit the club up, but I did make it to brunch the next day to meet up with some of my folks at Crème. Ran into my cousin and her homegirls who were also there, chopped it up with both parties then headed out to Glendale Splash park for my nieces joint birthday party. Sunday evening was a long overdue “burying of the hatchet” and reconciliation with a friend of mine.

Needless to say, Monday was recuperation and rest, although I did run to Comcast for a new box (cables been out since Wednesday), caught up with my dad, and saw Transformers II. So, what did you do this weekend?

Whew! It's been a minute, huh? Yeah, I know, but it wasn't intentional. Whatever though, let's move past that. I'm here now. So, um, finished Walter Mosley's novel, Fortunate Son, which was depressing, inspiring, unsettling and captivating at times. Just when I was going to put the book down and question what the point was, the book kicked into another gear and became a page turner. I was reading pretty much on the subway, but did finish the last few chapters over the weekend in the wee hours of the morning.

I just started reading the Alexander Dumas classic, The Count of Monte Cristo. I thought when I bought the book, that it was one of those jon'ts that had three different classics in it, so I though I had picked up a book with the Count, Three Musketeers and The Man in the Iron Mask--no such fortune (although I'm sure I held one of those and simply bought the wrong one not paying proper attention). The 600+ page beast I bought is all one novel, which I don't know whether or not I'm all that motivated to read right now. It's just that after reading The Bluest Eye, the Hobbit and now Fortunate Son, I figured I needed to keep my reading regimen going. We'll see; I'll stick to it for now--for now.

Also, wrote a tiny smidge myself. I know what I want to say, but I'm still not solid on the style and manner in which to say it. I think the concept is evolving well. But, I do worry about the believability of it all a bit. I have to make sure I don't go over the edge and write some far-fetched drivel in the attempt of being cutting edge. Rather, I need to let the story come to me.

Also, on another note altogether, I think the animal kingdom is conspiring against me. On Sunday, while coming back from church, some little furry animal--God knows what it was, but it was ugly, ran out in the middle of the rode. I swerved and narrowly missed him, but it was close. It was about the size of a large opossum, but it didn't have a tail, and was brown. Then, on Monday (yesterday), I was dive-bombed by a bird as soon as I stepped outta my building. I mean, I open the door, and as soon as I do, all I hear is, "Skreeeeeee!", and see this bird flying right at me. I instinctively duck said bird while jumping of the stoop yelling an obscenity and laughing at how quickly I was assaulted upon leaving my abode.

Aside from that, work is work, life is life. Trying to stay out of trouble and find it all at the same time. Really though, I wanna stay out of trouble, but being single...trouble finds you. Anyway, gotta go. I will holla.
One!

OK, so I have been in a haze as of late. Different types of things have been transpiring as of late which has been the impetus for me deciding to really reevaluate what’s important in my lifer. Relationships have been paramount in these considerations: the relationships that have falling into disrepair (for lack of better terminology), and the ones that seemed to magically dissipate with no forewarning whatsoever--the relationships that are strongly predicated upon physical attraction, versus ones that could grow into more--the relationships that have been on the come back from a fall out. So, here’s my admission(s) for whatever they’re worth.

There are a couple of young ladies that I’m—“attracted” to (wink, wink), and one of which I think may like me more than just physical means. All this to say, that I’m really trying to not be a slut, but I really wanna get at them both, and I believe I can (one may not be feeling this if she ever read this—but, I plan on speaking on this with her anyway). The truth of the matter is, either I’m maturing or getting lazy, but I don’t feel like being bothered with the BS of it all. Not saying I have to put in a bunch of work (not bragging—the situations have been lingering, so opportunity has been there, whether I acted on it or not), but I don’t want that to be all there is.

I mean, the more I devote energy to that, the more I have to risk missing out on that special someone. It sounds corny as shit; but I hate being single. Getting to know new people is always a crap shoot, and I hate wondering about ulterior motives, true intent, is the person being honest, and how much of me is going to be appreciated. Granted, that will have to happen with said “special someone’, but if I’m worrying about low hanging fruit all the time, I may forget to reach for what really matters.

I’m happy as hell that I have gotten back to good terms with an old friend of mine, who frankly, since we fell out, it’s felt my life has been in disarray. She was the one somebody that could check me, even if my mother couldn’t, and it was no different for her when it came to me. I knew she had my best interests at heart, and that made me comfortable enough to let her truly get to know me. I just hadn’t matured enough to realize all that meant, and my responsibility to honor that type of friendship. Both of us are way past finger pointing, but, it just feels like home as of late when we talk—and I missed that (whether I knew it or not, or was man enough hto admit it if I did).

I miss my home girl T. It was messed up how we fell out, but I like to think that we were better friends than that. I’m willing to put aside principle whenever she’s willing to set aside pride.

Also, I’m dealing with the odd prospect of feeling old feelings of like for someone I hadn’t really thought of like that since, damn—1995 or so. Always been attracted to her, but I have what may be referred to as approach anxiety, and I never kicked it to her back in the day. So, it’s always been a flirt type of thing whenever we see each other.

Then, there’s this young lady I see every blue moon walking to/from the metro station. Thick lil’ mama, who I just enjoy watching her walk, as that’s the only way I can definitively tell it’s her (my eyesight isn’t the greatest, but she has a very distinctive walk which I can recognize from behind). Because I don’t often know it’s her until she walks by, I haven’t quite had the opportunity to step to her that I’d like. But, I’ma get at her when I see her with enough notice.

Ironically, the young lady who I was digging something serious about a month or so ago, emailed me an article about approach anxiety—after I saw ol’ girl on the subway…at least I think it was her…

On other notes, I finished the Hobbit between subway rides, and am now reading Fortunate Son by Walter Mosley (author of Devil in A Blue Dress). Waiting for my words to come to me, but I don’t think they’re that far from me now. I think I need to get some of these other things off of my chest, kind of clear out the bottlenecking of thoughts that’s going on right now.

Lastly, I want to have a better relationship with my sister. I love her to death man. I think she has the capacity to be one of the sweetest people in the world when she is so moved. But, she can also be hard to deal with. Now, to be fair, she’s my older sister, so I’ve known her my entire life. There are simply times when we’re not going to agree or be on the same page. However, this doesn’t negate that I want the best for her and that I love her dearly. It’s just that I recognize that she is stubborn in the way that Taurus signs are stubborn (pride), and I’m stubborn like Virgo’s are (principle). [This is not the same person (T) that I mentioned earlier—the principle and pride thing is merely coincidence].

I simply see certain patterns that I think she needs to let go of, but, being as though we both have parents (who are OCD), it’s easy to understand why we both sometimes hold on to shit we shouldn’t. To be OCD is to have issues with control. And sometimes the best medicine is to simply admit you either don’t have control, never did, or that you simply need to let go. Sometimes things work out much better if you lovingly steer as opposed to trying to control. Perhaps when I’m confident she’d be willing to really listen to her baby brother, we can discuss.

All in all, things are obviously gaining perspective, and I’m just letting things move as they may. Sometimes, when you really want something to happen, it’s better to let go and let God.