Blargity

Here's the thing about disappointment, it stings. It cuts like a knife in a surprising way and leaves me somewhat paralyzed after its attack. More than any other word to describe turmoil, feelings of disappointment hurt me the most. These are the feelings I lie awake thinking about at night, replaying in my mind at work and stressing about in my dreams. Sucky. It take a lot for me to get to this point, I'm not constantly walking around in a state of emotional turmoil or anything. But when it does happen, it really F*cks with my mind, son.

This too shall pass, right?!

Not as easy as it sounds...

THIS

Black. Girls. Rock.

Tonight I watched BET's "Black Girls Rock" awards show. It was awesome! Me no know how to 'splain. It was just amazing! You have got to watch it! Especially the perfomance of "Four Women". Not ONCE was there a man on the stage, beyond like one guitarist! It was empowering and brilliant. All women are beautiful and special, not just the Black ones, but there's something still under-appreciated (word check?) about Black women, especially as projected by the media. How many times have you sung the songs about black women's asses, thighs, lips, nails done/hair done, sex in the club? All the time. Admit it. I have too. This is fun, it's a form of entertainment...ENTERTAIN-MENT. NOT reality, NOT encouragement, NOT progression for my people, NOT inspiration, NOT intelligence. "Black Girls Rock" was the reality, encouragement, progression, inspiration and intelligence Black girls need to see. When you're a Black pre-teen, teenager, shit adult, sometimes you forget your worth because you're too busy singing about your ass while flaunting it. I grew up in the tundra that is, Minnesota. Yeah. Minnesota. Great place to grow up in a lot of ways (very little crime, the 'burbs, beautiful summers, cabins, lakes, PRINCE for goodness sake) but as far as seeing a lot of positive Black girls and women outside of my own house and social circles, my options were limited. So, I did what everyone else did, I watched TV and listened to music and read YM and Seventeen magazine to pass the time until high school graduation. And what did I see? Skinny White women. Don't get me wrong, I have love for ALL women. But let's be honest, Skinny White women are EVERYWHERE in the media. Not medium sized Asian women. Not voluptuous Hispanic women. Not tall and slender Black women. This does something to you while you're growing up, it makes you feel different and not always in good way. More in a "why does your hair do THAT? Why do you look white, but you say you're black? Why are your legs so big?"way. You want to say "Because! That's what my mom, sister, aunt, cousins and grandma look like!", but you just don't know how. Not yet. But maybe, MAYBE had the "Black Girls Rock" award show existed during my adolescence, I wouldn't have to.

PS- Google "Black Women" and search for images, it's pretty amazing what comes up. Damnshame.com\thislifeisnotallaboutsex.

XOXO,

T

T-Boz, T-Dubb(s), T-Wells, T-Mack, T-Dawg, Weezy, Trace-Dog, Tres-de-Leche

These are the names I've been called. And these are only the ones GUYS have called me. And, more specifically, guy-friends. Why? I mean, I don't really get it. Something about my name is very nicknamable to guys. I have never in my life told anyone to call me anything but Tracy. It's just that my name isn't short for anything long, it's five small letters, two syllables and it's pretty much just there. So when guys in my life started with the nicknames, I was curious but never overly concerned...until now. I mean, what's IN a nickname? Break it down for me. Is it that I'm cool and so deserve a homie-esque moniker? Or maybe just because Tracy Wells is kinda plain and could use a spruce up? Or, OR, maybe it's that my name is easy to make into something better? I have no idea. Seriously. These are all guesses. Maybe one day someone will let me in on the secret. In the meantime, I guess it's just important that you SAY MY NAME!

XOXO,

T

UPDATE 11/8/10: Trace Minerals. Geez.

On that new tip

So, it's been awhile. I'm sorry, my bad. It's just...yeah, yeah, I've been busy. NO! It's not you really, it's been... it's just that well, I've had a lot on my mind and every time I feel ready to talk--you're not available. I'm not blaming you. It's just we have to be in person to communicate and that takes time. I even write notes on yellow work post-its about things I want to talk to you about. I do! Really! I shove them in the book I'm reading and then into my purse. Now? Oh, Water For Elephants. Yeah it's good, I recommend it. So anyway, I just want to say I'm sorry. What? Well I guess I can share a little.

So lots of thoughts to discuss, but it all comes down to this: I'm happy! Really! I am. I really can't complain about sh*t. Yay! I mean I have worries, yeah, and I'm getting super anxious and inpatient at work, but overall things are good. Who? Oh. Well, I'm not sure.

What else? Oo! Well my vaca planning is FINALLY getting into motion for the year (YEAR!), which is exciting. India, L.A. and MS here I come! My friend from work, Leah and my Mom respectively. I know it's gonna be a crazy good time ;)

I made Tetrazzini and cooked apples tonight. I know!!! I can't wait til' tomorrow when all the ingredients have marinated together, it's soooo much better the next day. Well luckily it hasn't been too hot to cook. I also did laundry. It's pretty much the bane of my existence. Why?? Right. You must've never had to haul your draws, towels and sheets down 4 bustling NYC blocks, in a cart that has unhinged and relentless wires poking out of it that's sufficiently filleted your legs, to a run down laundry cave run by that random guy you saw at that sh*tty Euro-trash mega club once (ONCE) in the Meatpacking and now he acts like he knows you. Oh! And it's always busy in that joint. Always. And if you don't watch your clothes with hawk-like persistence the mean mom-lady-owner will grab them out and throw them to sit scared and lifeless in a dirty crazy-wheeling break-your-back cart. Oh! And halfway through your loads you ALWAYS run out of detergent, no matter how much you start out with. Why? Because you always OCD-out and use too much because you're afraid to pick up whatever was left behind in the washer you're using.*

*Huh! Look at that. I guess I CAN find something to complain about. I guess it's a gift!?

But yet and still (don't you HATE when people say that? Does it even make sense?) things are good.

I promise to do better with us, k? K.

XOXO,

T

I wanna play!

Well since nobody invited me to play "blog chain", I'll invite my damn self. I'll try to follow the rules and use only one word, but sometimes I just can't!

Hair: Brown.

Your Mother: Incredible

Your Father: SMART

Favorite Food: Cheese

Dream Last Night: Dunno

Favorite Drink: Sparkly Water

Room You’re In: Living

Hobby: Jewelry

Fear: Complacency

Where Were You Last Night? Bed

Something You Aren’t: Boring

Muffins: Where?!

Wish List Item: Vacations

Where You Grew Up: Minnesota

What Are You Wearing: Obama shirt

Your Pet: Nope

Friends: Mighty

Something You’re Not Wearing: Out

Favorite Store: Macy's (I be lyin')

Favorite Color: Black

Last Time You Laughed: Earlier

Your Best Friend: Strange

Place You Go Over And Over: Target

Person You E-Mail Regularly: Heather

Favorite Place To Eat: Ethiopia

And now I pass it on to Diana (www.loveandthequarterlife.blogspot.com)! You'd BETTER PLAY! :)

XOXO,

T

I'm Sense AND Sensibility

What up? I'm back. No excuse for the absence. It is what it is, folks.

Once again, ONCE AGAIN, life is imitating art. Just finished the classic Sense and Sensibility, which has been on my list of didn't-read-it-in-high-school-now-I-gotta-make-time-for-it book list for a while now. Anyway, it was amazing of course. Not only that, it literally was parallel to life events that were happening while I was reading it. Examples:

My Life

1. I'm no longer sharing with my closest ppl (that includes yall) the details of my dating life

S&S

Elinor: "From their (her sister and mom) counsel, or their conversation she knew she could receive no assistance, their tenderness and sorrow must add to her distress, while her self-command would neither receive encouragement from their example nor from their praise. She was stronger alone (AMEN, I say), and her own good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as...it was possible for them to be"

My Life

2. The Official Trouble Apology happened. And if you don't know who Trouble is, you don't need to (see above). Mine wasn't quite as elegant as the below, but the sentiment was the same.

S&S

Willoughby apologizing for his horrible behavior: "I mean- said he, with serious energy-if I can, to make you hate me one degree less than you do now. I mean to offer some kind of explanation, some kind of apology, for the past; to open my whole heart to you, and by convincing you, that though I have been always a blockhead, I have not been always a rascal, to obtain something like forgiveness from (you)..."

My Life

3. The reason that I was even able to listen to the above apology, and almost the exact words I said to Trouble, are because I give all of my heart and not pieces. These sentiments, reflected in the book, I read in the book after I said them. Creeepy.

S&S

In describing how Marianne loved: "Marianne could never love by halves"

My Life

4. Two single sisters and me open to the possibilities of love, in a crazy city.

S&S

Two single sisters and Marianne open to the possibilities of love, in a crazy city.

So, what does this all MEAN? Good timing to read this book of course! But what else? Did my life get shaped by what I read? Am I reading (puns are fun) too much into this? Perhaps not. The bottom line is, with men, women, gossip, big cities, marriage, engagements, hussies and Trouble, things never change. From 18th century England to 21st century New York, shit's the same.

XOXO,

T