Oh Canada

I'm in Montreal.  Been up here since April 16th, gonna be here till May 5.  Visiting my mom's bff and her 3 sons whom I've known all my life and therefore call my cousins.  I'm having a good time.  The last time I came up I was with my brother Jesse, and was not in a good head space at all.  Let's be real I was deep in a depression back in '03 and didn't have a good time, at all.  7 years is long time and thankfully I'm healthy and in great spirits.  I've been enjoying the quality time with moms and taking in some of the charm of Quebec.  One thing I've realized while in another country is that pop culture is not some general knowledge that crosses all cultural bounds.  It is very particular to age, race, culture, exposure, etc.  My sense of humor doesn't always translate (literally and figuratively) up here.  Case in point, I had to Youtube a Colt 45 commercial to show my cousin who Billy D. Williams was so that I could then explain a reference ("works every time") someone made while I was playing poker on Facebook.  Long story long, it dawned on me that no, everyone does not know who the smoothest black man in America is!  What a revelation.  So in a personal sense it's a further reminder that the world that revolve around me and the way that I interact with it.  Culture is pockets of subjective perspectives, joined together in the human experience.  While in Canada I'm realizing a lot of things, how much I missed out on by not having siblings, and that my grasp of French isn't completely gone, and also that spring time up here has its redeeming qualities, but these people need to get a grip, hockey isn't all that!

Fixation

This morning I need to talk about body image.  I just finished watching a documentary "America the Beautiful" about our fixation on unrealistic standards of beauty.  It struck a nerve with me especially now that the summer season is upon us and suddenly Facebook is inundated with stats touting gym, diet, and other things no one really worries about in the winter.  I have always felt like the biggest girl in every circle.  When I had a larger chest it was on the back-burner as I was being sexualized so that I didn't have a chance to feel fat.  When I was the smallest I've been in my adult life it was only after having an emotional breakdown my first year of college, I was skinny because of stress.  Not a good time to feel beautiful.  My body image has been fairly regular, having my most difficult times from middle through high school when I had a 36DDD chest.  Since 18 and my breast reduction, (now a 38D) I've been fixated on my stomach.  It's never flat, I feel like if it just disappeared I would be beautiful.  My clothes would fall correctly and I would be attractive and sexy.  After removing parts of my breasts in an unnecessary surgery I still don't feel pretty.  Think about it.  It's fucked up.  I always say to people, I love my body except my stomach.  My stomach should be the part I love the very most.  It is my womanhood.  I hope to one day bear children and it will become my crowning glory, growing life, nurturing a being.  A wise man once said:

B*tches need to stop blaming all your problems on us. Stop tellin' a n*gga, "You f*cked up my self-esteem." B*tch it's called SELF-ESTEEM! It's esteem of your motherf*ckin' self. How am I gonna f*ck up how you feel about you simple b*tch?

 That wise man was Katt Williams.  Beyond the crude language, he has a point.  It's impossible at the end of the day to blame outside sources for how I feel about myself.  I can pinpoint influences that have been negative or of detriment, but only I wake up everyday and critique my body in my full length mirror before I go into the shower.  Only I obsess over my stomach in bed at night, wishing it away, only I feel insecure when men tell me I'm beautiful.  That's me.  I do a lot of self degradation with little outside help.  The media may fuel the flame, my mother may ignite my fire at times, but only I keep it burning.  And so even as I have a date this morning with my friend Schnovey to go walking and shop for a fruit and veggies only diet (she also hates only her tummy), I do so with trepidation.  I have very unhealthy eating habits and I know that if I had a weaker constitution I could fall victim to an eating disorder, it's a slippery slope.  So this spring and summer I am going to work on building my self esteem, feeling less paranoid in society (I'm EXTREMELY self-conscious always feeling like people are dissecting me, it informs my actions when driving sometimes, I have anxiety at red lights wondering if the next car is looking at me, it's crazy!) and loving every part of me everyday.  Even if I aspire to lose weight and change my outward appearance, I want and need to maintain a positive self image.  Forever.  Period.

Handling Difficult Situations

I suck at life.  Have I started a blog with this line before?  Probably. Today more than any day I am really internalizing this statement.  It's fucked up how much I blame my mother for my misery.  Her absence has sent me spiraling into this emotional free-fall with no ability to brace myself for impact.  She was supposed to be home today.  Instead she decided to stay in Miami for an undisclosed amount of time.  She ran away from her problems.  Simple and plain.  It just so happened the worst natural disaster in the history of her native country happened in the interim.  I wonder how much she has learned in her 53 years, and I pray I don't repeat many of her poor choices.  Our lives are bound together through finance, emotion,  and obligation.  We have a bizarre dynamic where many times I play the parental role then regress emotionally to match her immaturity.  It's exhausting.  Sometimes she's a wonderful mom, that mom my friends used to envy when I was growing up because she was so fun and relaxed.  I know I missed out on many life lessons from her, things like discipline and self-control.  She has some enabling qualities, and many issues with money management.  She's a very unique, free spirit, can be  so loving, dynamic and charming, but she has these glaring emotional disabilities, and in this way we're just alike.  Oh God.  I'm so much like her.  I have to assert myself when she comes home, take the reigns of my life, and cut the fucking cord.  I'm 3 years from 30 and my life is floundering in mediocrity.  I see so many opportunities, paths, choices I can make.  I need her to help me get there.  I need her to be there for me just long enough for me to get out of here.  I need her to grow up, if only for a little while.

Workplace Tension

...is the dumbest kind of tension.  It is so insignificant in the grand scheme of life, and for someone like me who completely forgets all about work once I clock out, it's pretty entertaining.  I just don't care.  I have a pretty laid back job that involves sitting in front of a computer, printing wedding registries, registering couples, helping them decide on china patterns, and ringing up customers in the home store of Macy's.  All in all a fluff job with a decent pay for someone who has yet to finish college.  Now, all that said, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to effectively perform said duties.  I'm no Einstein, but I am very intelligent and more computer literate than anyone in my department, save my manager [he happens to be in school for IT].  My skills are vital to moving things along much of the time.  I'm everyone's go-to for computer/printer issues and even some register functions.  Therefore I can see how sometimes my technological IQ can be intimidating.  I am the youngest person in my dept. [only 7 people including me], my manager just turned 30.  The next closest in age is 40 and then it goes all the way up to 73 or so.  No one here is really a peer that I would socialize with in my natural environment.  And therefore many typical tensions may arise.  Racial, socio-economic, generational, these differences cause undue complications on a day to day basis;

*people hold in stupid things they think you did and bring them up with such a passive-aggressive casual accusation it makes me want to die laughing.

*some people are simply over-qualified for this position and refuse to tone down their professionalism.  There is such a thing as being too good.  It's just Macy's.

*I simply do not get paid enough to care enough to do too much.  Period.  Cut the check!

*I enjoy customer service but only when the customer respects me as a person doing a job and not a servant fulfilling my destiny.  Get a grip you ignorant insult to humanity.

But even after all of that, the people at this job are like a second family.  Sometimes we argue and don't like each other so much, but there's something about the workplace that causes you to be more open about your personal life than is necessary or even appropriate.  A bond is formed and a professional love develops.  Some of these people I will never forget.

Unconsciously

I wrote this poem 7/4/00, 3 weeks later I met Benito.  Life is funny.

I am desperately seeking.  At times I'm positive it's ineffable.  Substitutions are titled boyfriends, then exes, then bitter memories and anger, frustration, the lack of an adequate vocabulary.  I look elsewhere, for things less tangible and flawed, a concept, an emotional destination similar to inner-peace.  At times I think I'm crazy or depressed and cringe because the act of allowing the notion to run rampant in my thought process makes me sane.  I desperately seek a loophole.  Instant mental health.  Void of this torturous, pathetic, self-evaluation.  I'm devoured by confusion and fatigue.  I need options.  Constantly.  I'm lackadaisical, dare I say indifferent, overly sentimental and easily influenced.  Weak yet stubborn, free and savagely limited.  I'm ordinary AMPLIFIED, chaos condensed, packed in this shell pretentious people judge recklessly.  I'm a hopeless romantic, who can effortlessly distance myself from human affection.  I probably won't call you when I'm supposed to.  I'll stare at the caller I.D. in suffocating disappointment, you irritate me, don't love me, hate me or submerge yourself in your own existence.  Don't embrace me, not until I've found what I'm seeking.    - Pascalle Arnold

13 on the phone---

 I think that in a way, Brian is like a (the first word that comes to mind is) box.  I pour myself into him and he closes. - Excerpt from my diary dated 5/10/96

I still have little to no ability to communicate effectively with men.  When I was a teenager, and had my very first crush, talking on the phone was always a disaster.  Absolutely awkward.  Where most households are filled with conversation and social conditioning, mine was much quieter and introverted, my father would work on his computer, watch TV, sleep, and I would be left to my own devices.  So when it came to meaningless banter, I was at a loss.  A complete and utter, painfully uncomfortable loss.  Looking back on it, I feel the same uneasy embarrassment as I did while listening to my object of desire breath on the phone.  I always waited for them to initiate conversation.   Now talking on the phone is a talent, relating to men in a social setting is instinctual, but expressing deep emotions and frustrations brings me back to that place in my mind, 13, no experience with boys, nothing to say and no knowledge of how, even if I did.  It frustrates me because I am so connected to my thoughts when writing, they ease out of my psyche with form and purpose, but when in the presence of someone whom I love or care for, I am bone dry.  It's an irony that is not lost on me, yet a handicap I cannot conquer.

Do Not Pass Go

Some situations just cry out, no hell no!  Do not swoop down and try to help this person, they do not pass go, they do not collect $200.  No matter what your history is with a person, as soon as you make the first realization that they have lied to you with the ease of say, slipping into a coma, you immediately approach every "emergency" they have with warranted trepidation.  In layman's terms,  it's not a go.  When things seem etch-a-sketchy and your intuition tells you to stay your ass at home, hang up the phone, put that mess on silent, and stay in your PJs.  I'm responsible for no one but me.  Especially when I don't trust you as far as I can throw you.  Naw boo boo, being cute ain't cutting it in the '10s, I'm grown and getting older, can't and won't do it.  Can't roll the dice on my own piece of mind :o/

100% Funky

If I had to keep it 100 and/or keep it funky, as is the common request these days, this would be the state of affairs on the dating front.  The honest truth is startling, and can be hard to accept, but it is what it is!  I have a lot of loose ends, a lot of unfinished business with many different people, of whose feelings I can't speak for, but overall I can conclude that none of these men are the one for me.  In the interest of being direct and getting to the heart of each situation, I will only allow one sentence per person to illustrate what I feel is the lowdown.

Benito: Though difficult to sum up in one sentence, he is the antidote to my happiness, his personal instability and drama keep me feeling inexplicably obligated to be there for him.

Lenny: He is the biggest disappointment seeing as he was my archetype of true love for so long, sadly in adulthood he turned out to be a trifling adulterer.

Dontes:  Has just resurfaced in my life after being locked up again, and he seemingly still has feelings for me, only the shallow/superficial part of me finds this appealing.

Michael:  I wish I liked him as much as I want to, certain aspects of his personality turn me off, although I'll say he is the best match for me at this point in my life.

Sahir:  Is an amalgamation of every guy I've dealt with and regretted, my attraction to him is causing me to make many, many, many poor decisions.

Justin:  I am a glutton for guys that just aren't that into me, I realize he has his reasons for keeping me at arms reach but it has taken quite the emotional toll over the years.

Terrence:  I can honestly say I love Terrence more than any guy, in a healthy way, and his being in my life has been a blessing, if only he weren't so religious.

Kelvin:  I really like his novelty, he's so unique, intelligent, and we go on genuine dates, he's a keeper most definitely.

Zackery:  Had it not been for his misgivings with personal hygiene, we might still be together, he had a passion for me that is yet unparalleled and inspired me to no end.

And yet, NONE of these prospects has ever really breached the topic of a committed relationship, not w/o ulterior motives or some incongruities in the dating time-line, or worst of all, me initiating the discussion.  It's all so disheartening, to think that I am not the kind of girl that a man would want to lock down and forsake his single status on Facebook, makes you reconsider your market value, if you know what I mean, and that's as funky as it gets.

Publish Post

2 days off

Yesterday I got some errands done [plates/registration for the new whip] and went to happy hour @ TGIF with Schnovey.  It was great.  We always have ridiculous amounts of fun together.  That's my homey.  After that I went to my Grandmother's house and brought her a gift I'd had for her.  We talked for awhile.  When I brought up wanting to have 4 kids she said are there any prospects?  I said yea maybe one person except he's really religious [like her] and I don't want my children to grow up religiously oppressed, or forced to believe something w/o learning all that's out there.  She said that was "the devil" and I decided to forfeit the conversation.  I don't know what made me think that she was going to be open-minded about the fact that I'm not that beat for the greatest story ever told.  I left her house with another photo album to scan into my computer and a Lenox figurine of a black woman/angel with a baby.  I actually hate Lenox figurines because that off white/cream color they use is so dated and the pieces are usually hideous.  Leaving her home I went to hang with my sweety Terrence.  His boy Romaine was there, we had a good time hanging out, he's one of my favorite people, I tell him that all the time.  The next day I took him downtown so he could see about a new gig and he got me Subway, when I got home it was a wrap I was knocked the fuck out.  I had a weird dream, someone was getting married on the first floor of the beautiful southern style home with huge rooms and a wrap-around porch and my mother and cousin Mookie were there.  Last night I had a dream about Justin, which was equally weird, but judging by the way he treated me in that dream, it had a lot of truth in it and I take it as a warning.  Listen to your dreams people!  If of course, you can remember them [sometimes I can't].  Anyhow back to work, hope I see some cuties tomorrow [one in particular]! 

The Great [borough? city?] of Long Island

Naw didn't go to Long Island.  But had the damnedest time tryna have a good time tonight!  I got home from work and was determined to go out and enjoy myself.  First day of 2010, need to get it poppin, right?  Mannnn, I see my play cousin Jessie is going to support his pops down in Clark.  So I drag my homey Schnovey and we roll down there.  It's at the Crown Plaza Hotel...as soon as we pull in our parking space some dude hops out his pickup with a Kangol and a navy blue stepper suit on, that should have been all the warning we needed!  We get into the lobby and the party is non-existent, at 11:30, J arrives shortly after, we all take a group pic and decide to go to TFIG on 22.  Mannnn, it's stuffed to the gills up in there.  But we're next so we say let's wait <@ 12am> until a table opens up.  Finally one does and these two big burly bitches, who already had two stools at the bar, tell me that they were waiting for the table.  They sit their wack asses down and we are left to wait at the bar.  I hated on them the entire night, many Hungry Hungry Hippo references were made! They weren't even having a good time with eachother, what a waste.  Meanwhile we had a ball at the bar ki-ki-ing it up.  A little after 1am we finally get a table but the kitchen is closed.  We left immediately after only having had 3 Long Islands and an order of fries.  But it was exactly what I needed, if you can't party like a rock star, atleast laugh like a lunatic.