Senior year, revisited

I recently had the unexpected 'pleasure' of catching up with an old high school friend. She and I were once very close during a time when flare jeans were still super cool, Leonardo DiCaprio was still hot as the sun and Tom Cruise had a thin shred of dignity left. You might not remember those days but I certainly do.

Anyway, Tina and I started talking again. But, I can't forget that Tina's personality in high school took an unexpected turn for the worse. Originally, she was sweet and charming. The cute but dumpy friend you could depend on when you were sick from school and needed good notes. She was a confidant, a hip music lover (she liked Dave Matthews Band before I knew who the hell they were) and more importantly she was funny. Something like the perfect addition to my tiny band of friends back then. But out of nowhere she became moody. She started spreading gossip like wild fire. She alienated me with her better-than-thou attitude and I eventually let go. I figured, "Hey, I don't need to take this shit for the sake of friendship. I'd rather be alone."

Fast forward to about last month. I got a strange email from my old friend. I can't say that our relationship ended badly. We just fell away from each other. But it was still shocking to hear from her. Out of blue thin air. We started talking, anyway. I thought to myself, "Self, why not give her another chance? Isn't it umpteen years since high school finished out? How do you know she hasn't changed?"

With that I launched head-first into the kooky and complicated details of my life up til now. She responded to the email with her own life story and threw in some quirky tales about a few of our old acquaintances. In a separate email, I asked about a couple of people she didn't mention. I received a full-page report on the lives, loves, traumas and betrayals of our entire old crew. It was jarring, to say the least. She still does that. So... what if my love situation turns sour? (G-d in Heaven forbid: divorce!!) I can expect to have my business splattered around the streets like last weeks issue of OK magazine in a mud puddle or what? It makes me cautious to see that she still thirsts to spread and incubate rumors and gossip. And then it made me wonder.... how much can a person really change in a handful of years? I don't know *looks in mirror* I really can't say.

Brainstormin on a Saturday mornin'... cuz I can't shop!

That's right folks. Every once in a (blue moon) while I get overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions and I turn, like most red-blooded American women do, to retail therapy. Jeans, blouses, jewelry, fragrances, just personal shopping. Somehow digging through the racks or pulling on that 14th pair of pumps evens out your mood. And you suddenly feel like you're staring at a blank canvas in front of you; all the problems are sectioned off like vibrant colors and you can paint the picture you want to see. When you reach that point it doesn't matter if you leave the store with a killer sale item or if you leave empty handed. You've jarred that problem from its comfortable nest and you can go on with your life because of it. Or. At least, that's how it works for me... since I'm broke and all.

But this weekend is different. This weekend, the amount of gas I'd use to go to Payless or Dots and rummage around, wouldn't even be worth it. So, I'm in the house and trying to talk myself into cleaning up the carpets and doing some floor exercises (Cat. Hair. Galore!). Of course, it's despicable how much I've neglected you as well. I'm sorry for that. I'm not sure how I can channel this antsy bundle of mental energy but I think blogging helps. It's therapeutic in a way. My idea? Now that's something that's been driving me batty...

You know how most black female magazines are about one type of black woman? I mean absolutely no disrespect. BUT... I am not the type of black woman they're targeting. I'm a strange gal with a desire for interracial dating (I married outside my race) and an equally strong desire to never perm again. And yet, when I look through these magazines I see beautiful black women with protein-enriched, bone-straight hair. I see these women with families of 3 black children and a handsome black man by their sides. Some of them even have a tight-knit fabric of black girlfriends, all divalicious and fabulous in a "Waiting To Exhale" sort of way. I can't say that I wish I were this kind of black woman, because that would be denying the love I have for who I am and who I will become (the mother of interracial children). And I can't (and won't) say that what I see is stupid and unrealistic. It's simply not my reality. I need an outlet, a way to interact with black women who share my reality. For this reason, I've been thinking about starting up a forum or a magazine or something bigger for women/wives/mothers/lovers like me. Women who know what I've been through and what I will go through (how many times have I gotten the 'race trader' bit thrown at me?)

I know it's no small enterprise, starting up a magazine. In fact, I know it's damn hard. One of my favorite magazines, Shop Etc., has recently shut it's doors and turned off all lights. The price of production was too much for them. And mailing. And all the other smaller details that we don't think about like having photographers, writers and editors on staff. Despite numerous commercial sponsorships and advertising, they didn't make it.

But... here's a new "but". I recently did an exercise called "future write up". I typed out what I thought my ideal and dream job would be like. The most mundane detail, like what kind of coffee I would drink to the clothes I would have to wear. To the most important ones, like my salary and who would work under or above me. I came out with what looked like the desire to be an Editor-in-chief of a NYC based magazine. Maybe this is all coming together... like some finely sculpted and freshly sanded pieces of a puzzle. Maybe this is destiny calling and maybe I should answer. But how?

Happy New Year.

Bah Humbug. A foot of snow, and half foot more promised. February has been brutal and it's not quite over. Yay, winter.

New Year, New Me

At least, that's what I like to think. Who doesn't? The calendars change and we all start writing a different year at the end of our dates. 2007. Well, so far this year has been a big challenge. My grandmother passed away on January 1st at 9am. I wasn't as close to her as I would've liked to have been. But she and I weren't enemies (like my other grandmother and I). I'll miss her a great deal. I even flew to NY on extremely short notice to attend her memorial service. It was every bit the jumbled and strange mix of people I thought it would be. To be related to people and barely know them... how crazy is that?