Today’s Word is… HURTBAE

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So the other day on Twitter, not long after the timeline was basking in the glow of Valentine’s Day, showing off gifts, boasting how they started with a DM now they here and whathaveyou I had noticed a video was going viral.  I largely ignored it at first because in an age of vine and snapchat, a 7 minute video is pretty much a Martin Scorsese film.  Eventually, I gave in and watched.  Broken, a video from TheScene.com or as the stweets would call it #HurtBae, featured an ex couple seeking closure, and by closure the woman, Kourtney asked her ex, Leonard how and why he cheated and he pretended to care and jedi mind tricked her into thinking the entire breakup was a mutual thing.  The video itself was moving, I suppose but it made me wonder…WHY DO WE BOTHER WITH CLOSURE?  #HurtBae and her ex don’t live in the same state, she supposedly has a new man, a good man, so why did she even volunteer for this?  There was nothing this inward was going to say that was going to change anything.  He attempted to guilt trip her about her about her insecurity and why she didn’t just leave if he was clearly ain’t shit.  (I really don’t want to call dude a sociopath because he is only like 23, but this dude might be a sociopath).

I’ve touched on this last year, closure doesn’t work because the other person clearly doesn’t care that much.  They didn’t care about your feelings when they had you, why would they when they don’t.  #HurtBae wanted him to care so bad, wanted him to see that he broke her, and his only emotion was mild inconvenience.  Even after the video has gone viral and he doesn’t regret how he came off, he is just annoyed black twitter still flaming him. He started off calling her his best friend but looked her dead in her face as she cried and didn’t even attempt to reach out and console her (cuz, sociopath).  Hell, I’ve confronted cheaters and still ended up being the one consoling them (cuz, sucker), it’s just…instinct. How do you just sit and let someone cry in front of you? Someone you care for?

 

Unbothered.

Then to the elephant in the room, why did you cheat?  The answer is the same for why anyone does anything they wasn’t supposed to do…they thought they could get away with it.  If I go into a store, the clerk is so engrossed with their phone they refuse to do their damn job and I just walk out with my stuff because clearly they don’t want my money.  Rationalized? Yes. Still wrong tho.  (*sips stolen water*).  Asking someone why did they cheat is giving them an excuse to blame you for being wrong.  Fuck all of that, B.  It doesn’t matter what reasons you have, you were wrong, you knew you were wrong and you thought you could get away with it, or in dude’s case he KNEW #HurtBae wasn’t about to do shit.

I don’t know if Broken is a one off or a series, I would hope the former because I don’t see how it’s productive.  Forgiveness is very overrated.  Sometimes it’s easier to be like, “you hurt me, so fuck you” and keep it moving.  It’s not bitter, it’s not resentment, why place the burden on yourself to make them see that they was wrong?  Whether ol boy grows and learns from this wasn’t going to happen based on that conversation.  When I was her age (oh shit, I’m old), I was driving myself mad trying to get someone I loved to just try and see things my way.  Now, I just chill and wait for karma (because it’s unethical to pray for things to happen to people).  Maybe one day she’s going to wake up and realize she became everything I hoped she wouldn’t, hell maybe she already has.  I wouldn’t know. Don’t care neither.  Treat it just like I treat a certain segment of our “great” nation, when they are still poor, uneducated, uninsured and realize their mans changed sold them tragic beans, I’ll be chilling.  For #HurtBae, when ol boy is in his 30s, losing his hair, getting dogged out by the woman he wants to do right by and scrolling her social media, he might then realize he slipped up.  Because that’s how closure actually works.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… APPRECIATION

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I like Valentine’s Day, it follows my typical formula of favorite holidays: positive, inclusive and not historically linked to white oppression.  I enjoy the holiday for what it is even though I haven’t had the most luck with it personally; I mean there was the time I was blown off so she could attend her godson’s birthday party with her ex, the time it got ruined because I wouldn’t tell her how much I tipped the attractive waitress, oh and the time when a certain someone went on about how she never got flowers before, I don’t just go and get some red roses, nah that’s basic I get a custom bouquet in her favorite colors, and she basically like these are very pretty, good looks fam.  You know how hard it is to track down some lilies in fucking February…wait, why do I like this day again?  Oh, I guess I love love and shit.  Ultimately, Valentine’s Day is about appreciating your partner, something that gets lost in the sauce, lost in the game so often.  Especially for my brethren.  Where the love, B?  Do men even get Valentine’s Day gifts?  Is that a thing? They have man crates now…it’s basically a gift basket but because of fragile masculinity they put it in a crate and you can open it with a crowbar.  This is really a thing.

Man Crates….yeah, well….YOU’RE A gift basket.

We seem to have reached two extremes, women who act as though their mere presence is appreciation and well, #PickMe twitter. The former, you take her on a weekend getaway for your anniversary and she might swallow and call it even.  The latter, you text a compliment and she might write an entire essay about how she prayed for this kind of love.  I can’t deal with neither; just give me something in the middle.

So, how do you show a man some appreciation?  Hell, I’m not even entirely sure how I want to be appreciated.  For the most part, I equate access with appreciation.  “I wouldn’t be out with you if I didn’t like you” or “You’ve done UVWXY and Z and I’m still dealing with your ass” were kinda hard to argue with.  Sex was even harder. (cuz you know people all place different value on sex and all that other stuff I don’t feel like getting into right now, maybe another post, probably not though).  I would say that’s how it goes for most men, we are affirmed by access whether its a phone number, accepting a date or a come thru. For the most part we carry on in relationships where we’re validated but maybe not valued if that makes any sense.   I would also say for most men their love language is physical touch, (but shoutout to the men like, yeah sex is lit but I like gifts more though…I can respeck it).  I’m a touch and quality time guy myself, so there’s not much complaining on my end either.

I dug a little deeper and asked a handful of women, without using sex how would they show a man they appreciated him.   The answers varied from simply telling him to wait why can’t we have sex again (gotta love the pick mes yo).  The most common answer, food.  I was expecting more genuine compliments, support their hobbies, thank yous, affirmations…you know, to bust the myth that a man is so simple all he needs is sex, food, and peace.  But the more I think about it…that’s a solid hand.  Maybe we are that simple.  Quality time is cool and all but turns out my love language is actually pasta.  So I guess this valentines day, show that special someone how special they are…feed them.  Or I guess, you can just get the nigga a man crate.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… SUPERCALLOUSMISOGYNISTICRACISTNAZIPOTUS

So first, I’m sure that is and will be the longest word in the history of SFW.  And second, I swore I was going to take a Trump break but well, it’s been a long week.  This….is…the…remix.  

           

1/22/17 – So I read the inauguration speech, because the sound of Mango Mousellini’s voice makes me want to jump out of a window.  I didn’t expect much, but I found myself shocked how blatantly divisive it was.  There was little to no message about coming together, it was a rally cry for all of his supporters. As millions protested his inauguration  (some of which voted for him), Toupee Fiasco sits upon his throne with no incentive to win them over, he’s already secured a 4 year bye. (So he thinks). 

The black President was never afforded such luxury.  Not that he even wanted to.
Every word hyper analyzed, Obama was tasked with palliating white fear that he would be the BLACK President, appealing to his base only.  The revolution has been televised. Black people can barely enjoy February, BET, Black Girls are Magic without first swimming across a lake of white tears as they complain about exclusion.  What little we have, we are expected to share, as the new President of the United States openly gloats about how he and his supporters have successfully deboed the country back and it’s normalized. This country is conditioned to fear the black revolutionary; a black Trump couldn’t exist.  Not even a black Bernie. The black president will always have to hold white people’s hands and tell them he won’t abandon them.  The orange one…he just points to the electoral map like a #Scoreboardt.  

1/25/17- Richard Spencer got punched again. The New Edition Movie has been a pleasant distraction from a lot of the nonsense.  It’s the little things. 

1/27/17- You know how they say the pen is mightier than the sword? Persimmon Putin has shown how mighty it can be as he’s made white supremacy go platinum in its first week. 2001 Islamophobia is back with a vengence and he didnt even need to buy a 9/11 with his trap money.  He enacted a muslim ban, because he could.  Lord help us all if theres an actual attack and the country is in a panic.

I weep for the bill, sitting on Capitol Hill, as the Supercallousmisogynisticracistnazipotus seems to have decided that even with a fully supported Congress he can just rule via executive orders. Congress argued against Obama’s use of EOs, but allow Trump to cook because if and when it blows up they can say they didn’t do it. Cowards.

1/29/17- One of the biggest struggles of being a black man in America is the duality of having privilege and being oppressed at the same time. So far, Trump has gone after women, Mexicans, immigrants but has yet to do anything specifically to ME, but I remain in constant fear that time will be up soon enough.  So I find myself looking upon the wreckage and can’t help but see the irony in seeing the world react to everyone being treated like black people. 

From slavery, Jim Crow, redlining, prison industrial complex, war on drugs, student debt, underemployment,  gentrificiation…this country has been legally attacking us for generations only to be responded to with gaslighting.  “I didn’t own slaves”, “we elected a black president”, “racism is a dated concept”.  Even our own bought into the rhetoric using black on black crime and respectability politics to rationalize an undeserved war waged against us.  

But….this isn’t about me. Yet.  Edward Littlehands is distracted for the moment going after refugees. A country “founded” on religious freedom and Give Me Your Tired… is turning innocent people away because they believe that they may turn on the America who by the way are bombing the fuck out of them.   It’s being sold as a precautionary measure but Boston Marathon bombers? Russian.  Dylan Roof?  All American boy. Automatic rifles? Still able to be purchased by civilians. So tell me more how blocking immigrants is keeping us safe?

Terror isn’t a religion or a skin color.  It isn’t even something you can actually wage war against.  You can make it into whatever you want it to be and then attack that (you know like “drugs”)  

1/30/17- I don’t care what your politics are…if you think this would be the first 10 days under Hillary you’re insane.  That is all.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… TRUMPOCALYPSE

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It’s been a long 73 days between election night and the inauguration.  I’m not quite sure what stage of grief I’m on but it surely isn’t “acceptance”. Not sure if it ever will be.  Each day, each story I found myself losing my mind or wondering if America lost theirs.  I decided to journal through it. Alas we are here at inauguration and I figured no better time than to share some of my musings. I’ll warn you now, it’s pretty long. That’s what she said.  Alas, I bring you my 73 days of hell or as I call it…

The Trumpocalypse.

11/11/16- I just can’t see it. I can’t see this man giving state of the union addresses, I can’t see him getting off the plane and meeting foreign leaders, I can’t see a Presidential chart and his smug con man smile being at the end. Donald Trump is going to be President of the United States. For real. Not in some tongue in cheek satire, but real life. My future kids are going to learn about him in history books. January 20, 2021 can’t come soon enough.

11/14/16- I’m finding some delicious irony in white people feeling attacked as if this is their fault. (It is). They have resorted to safety pins, protests and long winded Facebook statuses because they hate being associated with their hateful skinfolk. They want to be treated as individuals, they are not a monolith, and they should not be held responsible for every Billy Bob and Margaret that broke America. I say hahahahahahahahahaha

11/16/16- Practicing self care via laughter…Black Twitter has provided us with “what do I look like I do for a living”, a Shirley Cesar trap cover, and a new Kermit meme. Calls to give the Great Trumpkin a chance are growing even though since being elected, he’s done nothing but frown, and tweet retractions to things that are very easily fact checked. It’s as though he has no idea how the internet works. God bless America.

11/21/16- I usually enjoy I told you so, it’s a freeing feeling, like hitting a fullcourt shot on the first try or walking away with a phone number and not an Instagram @. I warned folks about the false equivalencies, to stop listening to their social studies challenged cousin on Facebook…instead people raked Hillary through the coals for likes and clicks. People who tried to keep an open mind already have a bitter taste of crow as the Hate Trumpkin is very much is who we thought he was. This man has conflicts of interest all over the world, and is backed by a congress who will never have the stones to humiliate the party and impeach him so we have at least 2 years with an orange Tyrant. But hey at least he didn’t call us Superpredators 20 years ago. (He just treated the Central park 5 as such). God help America.

11/27/16- As Toupee Fiasco tweets freely about his desire to trample on the first amendment without a hint of irony, people have made a last ditch effort to Jill Stein’s recount. Effort, it is because there is absolutely no way to reverse the outcome (no refunds) which is all but futile because as I’ve been saying for the past fortnight and a half….white people lied, B. 62 million votes and they still trying to point the finger at the real racists. Did they vote accidentally? Are they so white they assumed leaving it blank was the proper way to vote? Who knows. I just want this inauguration to come and go and for the Dems to grow a pair and fight back instead of Monday morning quarterbacking.

11/28/16- The new Secretary of Education [Betsy DaVos] doesn’t believe in public schools. The new Secretary of Education doesn’t believe in PUBLIC SCHOOLS. THE NEW SECRETARY OF EDUCATION DOESN’T BELIEVE IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS

12/13/16- A blonde haired Kanye West meets with Darth Cheeto, while Macklemore spits on the F*ck Donald Trump remix. This year can end now.

12/19/16- As Dwight P Poe pretends to be stunned by news of the Russian hacking like Hillary didn’t literally say this in the second debate; we have arrived at confirmation day. The electorates will confirm Toupee Fiasco as our next “Precedent” (Thanks Hamilton. I’m glad you got clapped). I refuse to let the dwights off that easily because 63 million votes didn’t fall out the sky, they didn’t come from emails, and 25 year old superpredator quotes. There are decepticons among us, not to be trusted, because whIle they talk big and bad online, numbers don’t lie. For all I know, Keith Olbermann voted for Trump for the career boost after failing spectacularly in his ESPN return stint. (He’s been killing it btw but I don’t trust anybody, word to Stone Cold). Every person who switches lanes without signaling, Trump voter. Cowboys fan? Trump voter. Puts ketchup on their fries instead of dipping? Trump voter. Stay woke.

12/30/16- As Toupee Fiasco plans for inauguration, he finds himself in a strange place. 63 million supporters, not a friend in the world. Only person who seems to be unashamed to be seen with him is his daughter who is also his first lady because his own wife doesn’t want to be with him. The Decepticons are fickle creatures, they are the Angela Yee to Trump’s Gucci Mane. Trump who has built a brand on being lavish and extravagant, his Inauguration will be the blandest thing ever. It’s a high school assembly, pillow princesses, The OA, Mike and Mike in the morning, white people potato salad, coconut water, J Cole albums and RC Cola wrapped into one. I actually feel worst for Obama who has to attend, he’s been throwing the most turnt parties in DC the past year and is forced to attend the white mediocrity strugglefest. He rather be at a security briefing, or a press conference….speaking of, is Trump ever going to do any of those things? Ess em ayche. Happy New Year.

1/3/17- We have exhausted all other options. All that is left is…the troll. Unlike racists who trolled the President for 8 years whilst reaping benefits of health care, an auto bailout, Lily Ledbetter, and 5% unemployment; I wish I could say the same about the TwitterFingers-in-Chief. All I can do is sit semi comfortably above the poverty line and watch as the same poor uneducated people who elected him get hit harder than Ronda Rousey. It feels cruel. Enh, well.

1/6/17- 

Yesterday morning as I was getting ready for work, a story on the news caught my attention. The sheriff for Bristol county was being sworn in for his 4th term, he then would use his 15 seconds of fame to make a pitch to the Cheeto-Elect; “aye I got this free labor if you need it big dawg”. Even being well aware of the 13th amendment, the caucdacity of offering prison labor publicly literally 5 minutes into a new term, it startled me. I couldn’t believe it so I had to look it up, no way that actually happened…it did. So I shared on twitter with a quip “inward, that’s slavery.” and got ready for work. I check my phone later and see thousands of responses from the dwight p poe talking about “well we feed and shelter them with our taxes, they need to work”. “I don’t share empathy with criminals”. Without a hint of irony, regular degular schmegular dwights were sounding no different than slavemasters in the movies they fake cry in and want to give Oscars to. The same people who rebuke the idea of white privilege because they didn’t own slaves and are otherwise unremarkable can’t see the fault in an elected official literally selling free labor to build a wall that is supposed to be saving jobs in the first place. People read history books and wonder how people sat by and let such awful things happen…it’s because (white) people are evil, B. Entitled, selfish, evil people.

1/10/17- Golden showers, B?  Is this House of Cards? Somewhere Hillary is pissed at how NOW that Trumped Up, Trickle Down zinger would land better.  For what it’s worth, I don’t believe it, but I fear worst is coming. Urine for a long 4 years, America.

1/11/17- Last night, as I watched the farewell address of the President I acknowledge, I couldn’t help but think how remarkable he is, how surreal it is this black dude has been President for as long as I could vote. How he speaks of this country with such optimism, it’s almost childlike, I almost wish I could see the country through his eyes.  Then I watch Trump’s press conference. He’s cheeto dusted Mayor Quimby. He is inarticulate, inept, and so transparently corrupt, I don’t know how I can take 4 years of this. I just picture the next state of the union as he spews lies upon lies while Race Bannon and the teacher from Glee nod along. I sit in fear at what secrets Russia actually has over them, and the sacrifices they will make to keep it that way. The idea that Obama had to be as perfect as possible and Trump can just exist in his own mediocrity is troublesome.  I then see an article on Vox breaking down his “unique” manner of speaking. It goes on about how he is to be heard and not quoted. Cute. But the reality is HE DOESN’T KNOW WORDS, B. “Hacking duffence” isn’t some New York linguistic, he just doesn’t know what cybersecurity is. This isn’t normal, it never will be. *sigh* At this point, it’s starting to feel like talking to the moon. It’s going to be a long 4 years.

1/12/17- Hasn’t even been a full day. At 1:30am, Obamacare was murdered. Congress grabbed Lucille and took a beating to it. Preexisting conditions? Gone. Staying on your parents insurance til 26? Gone. Their replacement? Well….they’ll get around to it. With no plan in place, Democrats will be forced to accept whatever plan is given or fight it as 36,000 people a year die waiting. This isn’t the plot of an action movie, this is real life. How could well meaning politicians do this?  I truly don’t believe people run for office planning to do harm. Yet, the idea of Obamacare being called Obamacare, was too much for them. Maybe in hindsight we should’ve kept it known as the ACA (which some still don’t realize is the same thing).  Me, I’m 27, in good health, private insurance, and in a state that has insurance just in case. (I guess because we didn’t call it Romneycare no one felt the need to destroy it). In that regard, I’ll probably be alright. But for people waking up having no idea what they will do? It’s heartbreaking. All because of a name, man. A name.

1/20/17- It’s official. Donald J. Trump is the President of the United States.  My President’s a hack, my Passat is Blue. I said a little while back, that Barack Obama, a Harvard educated biracial married father, was everything America pretended it was.  America IS Trump, a narcissistic, thrice divorced “billionaire”, who tweets too much and is loud and wrong about everything.  For 8 years we had this incredible black man stand as the face of a “post racial” America but that’s not what this country is.  We’re out of shape, broke, with a spray tan.  This IS Trump’s America, and we deserve all that shame that comes with this fact.  Maybe I’ve finally reached acceptance. Or as close as I will ever get.  I wrote this entry in advance, as I plan to spend my Friday ignoring any and everything Inauguration related.  Self care is important. I can’t bury myself forever, I will be back knucking, bucking and ready to fight.  Just not today.    I can’t believe this country did this to ourselves.

-Stan-

 

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Today’s Word is… FENCES

So after an eventful day that involved a flat tire, a dirty macking tow driver, a joyride with a Jamaican delivery driver, an Uber kidnapping attempt, a curve and a bottle of wine (my life is a Seinfeld episode)…I eventually saw Fences. I had heard such great reviews I broke my usual only go to the movie theatre for blockbusters rule and checked it out.  What really made me intrigued was I seen a clip going around of James Earl Jones and Denzel’s play performances in a who did it better, and while the question was dumb what scene itself spoke to me.  The son, Cory, asked his father “why don’t you like me?”  You would think at this point there would be a denial, an apology, and a hug while sitcom music played.  Instead, the father, Troy, responds with a passionate rant about providing, responsibility, respect and to answer his question liking his ass wasn’t part of the deal.  (Sidenote: watching the clips, Mufasa is taken dead seriously while Denzel’s damn near has a laugh track…wonder why that is).  But that scene right there, was my father. He provided, he disciplined, he handled business.  I turned out pretty dope so props to him.  I could call him today if I needed anything. Call him to talk just to chat, talk about the game, not necessarily.  It’s a reality we are both aware of, promise to work to be better at, over the years we’ve had more father/son outings but it always returns back to normal after a while. Now, I love my father, he loves me…but we aren’t friends. I struggle with that sometimes. 

In some regard I sound…ungrateful, I didn’t want for much, material wise.  Most of my friends don’t even know theirs.  And frankly, he’s the only parent I have left.  My sisters adore him, so my indifference goes off as smoothly as telling J Cole fans he’s been making the same album for 5 years. Even in Fences, Troy is a drunk and an adulterer and it’s easy to follow along as Cory becomes too through with him.  In my life, my father isn’t perfect but he took care of his children.  Now I’m  grown and I don’t necessarily need anything from him…so what do we do here?  Cory eventually found himself, as a grown man, defiant of his father; I guess I fear appearing the same.  I also feel like the buck should stop somewhere, that passing down generations of tough love and indifference can’t be healthy.  That maybe it gets better with time, my father and grandfather weren’t close, that went down to me and I guess it’s on me to end the cycle so to speak.

We aren’t our parents, working the same old job for 30 years to pay off our mortgage before we can retire in an empty nest.  Millennials wonder why not do something different? As society shifts views on masculinity, sexuality, mental health, the I’m the parent tough love,  do what I say because you’re in my house, try Jesus but you best not try me mentality…who knows if it’ll work on (whatever we gonna call these little niglets generation).   “I’m not one of ya lil friends” should be in the NMAAHC if it isn’t already.  I was raised with tough love, I got beatings, told to man up, lectured on respectability politics, had a list of chores every weekend and left home at 18. I’m certain this next generation will be raised different. Because society is different.  

At the end of Fences, Cory/Troy never mended (ba-dum-tss) their relationship and the moral of the story was, he wasn’t perfect but he was yours.  I feel like that’s where I’m at right now.  That I can chalk it up to it being a different era. Of course, we’re both still here so it’s not too late to change the dynamic, maybe I’ll ask him if he’s seen it. He’d probably be team Troy. Parents, man. 

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… READY

 

I never really believed in being “ready” for a relationship.  What was there to be ready for?  You want me or you don’t. Find someone you like,  be with that person, fin. To me, not yet means not you.  I can look back at the times when I was “working on me” or “needed time” and honestly say it was just never going to be them. (Sorry)   I know myself, and I know I’m not that selfless to pass up on someone special to work on me.  Someone “cool”? Probably. Even now, I could say I’m chilling on the dating front…the right person comes along and I’ll jump right off that cliff.  I don’t know no better. It’s the flaw of the romantic; to go with the possibility, the potential, the idea that you can go through it together. It’s sweet, but admittedly naive.  Life isn’t like the movies. 

In the romantic comedy,  the jaded, heartbroken career person gets pressured by their best friend to go on the date in the first place, they are charmed by the person, then they screw it up because jaded and heartbroken, and then they realize the error of their ways, and it’s happily ever after.  In real life, someone tells you they aren’t ready for a relationship, you try tirelessly to win them over to no avail, at best y’all are sleeping together, at worst you’re just “a friend”.  It cuts you like a knife, that they can’t see that this can be their forever but you also can’t bring yourself to leave because they make you happy. You’ve convinced yourself that one day your efforts will be rewarded, but they never are. You get fed up.  You call them out, you talk about everything you do for them…they will retort tell you they never asked you to.  You’ll be checkmated because they are absolutely right.   

Like the Great Auntie Maya says, When someone shows you who they are, believe them.  They tell you they aren’t ready for a relationship, believe them.  They change their mind…well… I’m torn.  My gut would say don’t; they had a chance and passed, now for all you know someone they DID want curved them and here they is coming back to you.  Keep your heart, 3 stacks.  My head would say, good… now make her earn YOU.  But I’m working on being a better person in 2017. My heart would say, this is still the person who made you excited about what’s possible again.  Yes, they are late to them the party but they arrived nonetheless.  
A lesson I’m still learning: everyone just won’t see things my way. (The world would be so much better if they did, instead we have Bigots in Chief and people still eating bland blood colored chocolate and calling it “velvet”).  As someone who knows what he wants the second he sees it, I can’t take it (too) personally when someone may just be too busy with work, or needs to work on themselves first, has their reservations, or kinda hates men at the moment.  That sometimes people just aren’t with trying to fix things on the fly.  (Inefficient, really…but I digress). So while for me, “not ready for a relationship” is a soft curve but for others it can mean just that.  Next thing you know you gonna tell me dogs actually eat homework.  

Pursuer privilege is also a factor here. If I’m not ready for a relationship, I can simply stop dating, stop entertaining, just chill.  I don’t really have to worry about someone coming along who is everything I want and having to really assess if I’m ready to do this. (Because women I’m don’t/shouldn’t shoot shots…but that’s another post).  For me to pursue someone on my own accord and then say I’m not ready.  It’s not me, it’s them.  Even if maybe I pursued them and they just went 0-60 with it, again…not my actual readiness for a relationship it’s my readiness for theirs. Saying I’m not ready, just sounds cleaner…and after I leave y’all this game don’t say I never gave you nothing:

(If they actually didn’t know what they wanted, they wouldn’t be shopping in the first place.)
Happy New Year. 

-Stan-

 

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Today’s Word is… TWENTYSEVENTEEN

Still technically a word. 

My 2016 started with kissing a girl I wouldn't see again this year, missing a girl I would hope to spend this year with, a new promotion and a good deed. (So I was out seen this homeless woman who asked for a coffee, I'm still in good spirits I'm like sure, come inside with me, I order my coffee and I tell them and whatever she's having.  She gets like 8 things.  And the change.  I couldn't even be mad.) I was still riding high.  I don't even remember what even happened in 2015, but apparently I was really glad it was over. And if the previous night was be any inclination, 2016 was about to be lit.  It was bout to be my year. Twenty Tristeen, B.  


Well….it wasn’t 


It was the opposite of lit. Dark. Dull. Extinguished.  2016 was cranberry sauce, bad credit, charley horses during sex, the Cleveland Browns, and Lena Dunham all wrapped into one.  2016 just lingered like a foul smell.  Playing it back in my mind…March was dope, May was dope, July was dope; that's 3 hot months in a 12 month average.  Prince is dead, Donald Trump is next President, and our hoverboards still don't hover. It was that kinda year.  


After the past year, you can't help but look at 2017 like a knight in shining armor.  A fresh start, new energy, and most importantly, a re up on vacation time.  I'm someone who does get into the New Year thing just as my mother did. She would have the black eyed peas and cabbage on deck (with my collard greens on the side because I hate cabbage and I'm blessed and highly favored).  She ensured a man walked through the door first (is that patriarchy?), there was no laundry undone, we had money in our pockets.  She was all about bringing new positive and energy into each new year, regardless of how right or wrong she was about the year prior.

I'm #NewYearHive. It and Labor Day are probably my favorite holidays (because how many other holidays do we have that isn't historically inaccurate or over commercialized).  I enjoy New Years Eve shenanigans, as well as my new favorite tradition of laughing at people who don't seem to understand how Uber surges work.  You paid $250 to go 6 miles.  Sucks to be you. Yes, it's simply just a day, but I'm for positivity, progress and relief from fuckshit.  If people want to use 1/1/17 to make some changes in their life, who am I to judge (even though the Y gets filled with a bunch of resoluters who hog benches, take a bunch of selfies and won't be here after Valentines Day anydamnway).  It's a time to sit back and really assess the past year and the lessons learned.  Pour a little out for the ones who won't be with you in the next year literally and figuratively and appreciate the ones who will.

Even as someone who likes New Year's, I still don't do resolutions in the traditional sense.  I just hope to travel, eat good and laugh a lot.  I didn't have any resolutions going into this year, and there's none going out.  I mean sure, I have some steps to take in my career, put a little more effort into some side hustles, grow, live, learn and all that good stuff.  (The fact I could only come up with those generic ass goal exactly why I don't do New Year's Resolutions).

So I'm looking forward to 2017, and whatever it may bring.  Hopefully, this time next year I'm writing about all the great things that's happened, and I'm even more excited for 2018, because that's how New Years works, there's always optimism on the other end.  See y'all next year.

-Stan-

 

 
  

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