The Road to Embracing My Womanhood: Part One

Music: Destiny's Child "Jumpin, Jumpin"
Mood: Optimistic and weary

Hey hey now!!!!

Seriously, I didn't know that "Jumpin Jumpin" was gonna be the song playing when I started typing. How ironic. The lyrics say:

"Ladies leave your man at home, the club is full of ballas and their pockets full grown. 

And all you fellas leave ya girl with her friends cause it's 11:30 and the club is jumpin jumpin."

Let me go ahead and say, this blog post is NOT about getting to the club to meet some full grown pocketed ballas. Also, I do not do clubs. Not my scene. And 11:30 is so past my bedtime. And if I'm not asleep I'm under my blankets eating something with peanut butter on it and watching Adult Swim. BUT this post is about my reconnecting with everything about myself that screams "I am woman!"

Come. Buckle up. Ride with me on my journey of self-discovery. (Did that sound creepy at all? I was totally trying to put that vibe out there.)

Side ponytail. Can I hashtag that?

Back in the beginning of times, the 80's, I spent my young days as a girly girl. I enjoyed dressing up in my mom's heels, shoulder puffed dresses and magenta Fashion Fair lipsticks. I loathed all things physical. Sports, exercise (with the exception of Jazzericising, I could throw on some leg warmers in a second.), crossing monkey bars or climbing the rope in gym class. It wasn't that I just hated those things, but I was pretty scared of most of it. So let's see, likes to dress up, check, hated physical activity, check, boy crazy, oh yes, checkity check check!!! I was boy crazy as far back as I can remember. Elvis Presley and Davey Jones were some of my earliest crushes I can remember. In 2nd grade I heard a boy cuss in front of the classroom and I thought "Oh, well well. What are those words? I like him!"

Pink bedding, pink curtain, Fred Savage and NKOTB on my walls and my lady love Cabbage Patch Ricky Hetta in my arms. Oh and the rollers. Can't forget those.

By time I got to middle school, it was the 90's, leggings were prevalent in my closet (as they are today), and my cheeks were chubby as all get out. 

Side ponytails, scrunchies and cherry flavored chapstick helped me identify with my sprouting womanhood. Hahaha. Sorry. That's hilarious! 

My boy craziness went up a notch now that I had more 12 year old prospects to choose from. They made me giddy, childish, self-conscious and talk like a baby. I couldn't control it, the voice that is, still can't. 

In 1995 I entered high school. 

Cleveland Heights High School that is!!!! GO TIGERS! 

Y'all dont' know!

"Bone Bone Bone Bone Bone Bone Bone Bone Bone, 

tell me what cha gonna do, 

when there ain't no where to hide, 

when judgement comes for you 

cause it's gonna come...Hey now... "

Bone Thug. Look how Bizzy's hair blows in the winds of East Cleveland.

For the mother frickin record Bone Thugs-n-Harmony were not from Cleveland Heights and I was not from E. 99th but I dare you to try and tell anybody from Heights that they didn't really have a true connection with Bone!! You're liable to get caught up in a social room squabble.

Are we all thinking the same thing? Stacey Dash was too old to be playing a teenager!

Anywho, back on track. By this time my eyebrows were plucked and then drawn back in, my lips were lined with black pencil and filled in with deep plum Wet-n-Wild lip color (#508 to be exact), my closet was organized by color, Clueless was my Bible and I wrote down what I wore everyday as to not repeat an outfit for at least 45 days...I don't know if that was me being a young woman, or just being shallow....Yeahhhhh, I'm not gonna answer that.

     

My diaries were littered with boys names and "Oh my goodness, he talked to me!"- stories. My girlfriends and I found clothes not only to be an interest, or a passion, but a talent. Ah yes! It was a gift to be able to match my knee highs with the proper mini skirt and then the right feathery topped ink pen. Right? That's a gift, right. (Imagine me searching aimlessly for your approval.)

My only interest in sports were that games provided some social fun and our basketball team was pretty frickin' stellar so we got to visit Thee Ohio State University for state championship games. Our football team wassssss not so hot. I was a "trainer" for the team. What many may have perceived as me being a Water Girl was really a difficult job as a Sports Athletic Trainer. Oh my, sounds so dignified! Hahahahaha. Sorry, it's really funny to look back. One of the dificult "job" requirements was to ride on the school bus with the football team to and from games. Usually on the way to a game I'd be scoping the fellas, and on the way home scrunching my nose up from their sweaty fumes and covering my ears from hearing them talk smack about the team that just beat their lil Tiger tail feathers.....

.....I really feel like I have so much more to say. Therefore, so you may get back to your life and stop reading this blog because it is as engulfing as all three Fifty Shades books, I will stop for now. Stay tuned for more excitement of my adventures of wearing weaves, dressing like I was club kickin' it at all times, and eventually even becoming a wife and mother, and leaving the mascara behind.

Seriously, thanks for reading this cause I know you're at work and have other stuff you should be doing.

Dreaming in Pop!

Mood: Anxiously Awaiting for my Coffee to do the damn thing!
Music: No Doubt "Hella Good"

Whooopppeeeee! Hello friends. No I didn't suddenly become too cool for school and stop writing blog posts. Or maybe I did? What had happened was, (hahaha), Life! LIFE! Life is crazy busy. And when I'm not busy, Ize ty-ud.

When I finally fell asleep last night I ended up having quite a dream. Heard of the group One Direction? They're five guys from London doing the whole boy band takes over the world - girls cry their eyes out - thing. I don't dislike them but I don't follow them really either. I have heard there current hit "What Makes You Beautiful". It's cute and catchy and I have fond memories of my cousins dancing to it. But as far as the latest issue of Tiger Beat with them on the cover, I haven't bought it yet and don't plan on it. (PS, Is Tiger Beat still out there?)

Back to my dream. I must have been a teenager. I was hanging out at my dad's church, like I did very often when I was young (not doing Bible study but being a hooligan). My sister Courtney and my childhood friend Rebecca were with me. Some how or other One Direction showed up outside the church and...well...easiest way to say this, they fell in love with us. We only talked to them through the door. By some weird miracle thingy that only happens in dreams, we suddenly had two more girlfriends with us. We couldn't get over the fact that there was 5 guys, 5 famous British guys at that, and 5 of us. (I even sleep with math on the brain.)

Please note that outside of the one dark haired member of the band, who is of course the hottest, I could not in real life pick those other cats out of a line up. So in my dream, they kind of had blurry faces. But I knew who they were.

So, in the dream, after the initial love at first sight encounter with One Direction we secretly plan to have a slumber party with them! Whaaaaat? Oooooooh (in the voice of kids teasing on a playground). Me, Courtney and Rebecca planned out the lies we would tell our moms about spending the night over each others house to watch a NKOTB special on HBO. But really we were going to be at some fancy hotel, with glass walls mind you, with One Direction.

When the guys showed up, first we just gazed at them, through glass doors, each of us looking at our respective One Directionee, like a prison visit. At some point we do actually spend time in the same room together, drinking huge glasses of white wine and doing synchronized dances. Just as my One Direction guy drops to a knee to, (get ready to tear up), PROPOSE to me, my dream perspective leaves the room and takes a huge look from the top of the hotel and I see people running all over the place.

Turns out Shaq has showed up with a camera crew to film a reality show called "BUSTED", where he catches, and interviews, kids who lied to their parents. People were running all over the hotel. Up and down stairs, in and out of corridors, like on Scooby Doo. The only person I could make out was Shaq because he was like three stories tall. He was running really fast. Suddenly I'm back inside the hotel and I'm running frantically with everyone else. I don't want to get busted. Then my son Bear runs up to me with his arms reaching for me to pick him up. I scoop up my sweet boy and run with him, knowing that Shaq is just steps away..away..away...awake. Then I am awake.

The dream is over. It's 6:30 am in real life. I am a little peeved that my One Direction boyfriend never proposed to me, but I don't have time to focus on that. The real world was waiting. I don't know what the dream meant and I don't really care to. If The Sandman chooses to send me to some alternate glass wall reality where I run from Shaq and have London boys falling in love with me, okay.

(Please note, I did Google the ages of the members of One Direction before typing this up. They are all over 18. Praise God)