My friend N and I recently had a “wraparound” conversation…it started out on one topic, wrapped around another, AND even wrapped around to another day.

After being on “vacay” for the last 10 months (WOW, has it been that long??), I decided to wade back into the waters of Corporate America, see what was what. So, last month, I polished up my resume and floated it over the horizon. I’ve gotten more nibbles than I was expecting. I had two interviews today with two follow-ups on later this week. Honestly? I think I could have a new gig by next week. (Yea me! …I think)

Monday night, my convo with N centered around “remember when you were dating XYZ?”. He happened to run into someone he dated years ago. Can I tell ya’ll something? She DEFINITELY was NOT for him. Seriously. Something was not right about her. Took him a while to see it but when that chick flipped? Dude was out of there so fast, he set the air on fire. So I’m laughing at him when he brings up MY “XYZ”. I thought he was a decent guy; he was funny, attentive, etc. N was like, “Um…Dude was also shady as hell. He answered EVERY question like he was thinking up a lie.” LOL WTH? LOL N said, “Jaizy, if you asked Dude how he was doing, he would go ‘Huh? Whatchu say? Um, how am I doing?’ like he needed time to think up an answer.”

I hadn’t really noticed that. But I did notice some other things which is why I stopped seeing him. N’s point was it took me too dayum long to see that I could do better.

*Sigh*

What does this have to do with my job search? Hang on. Dang! I’m tryna paint a picture here.

After revising my resume and posting it to some job boards, etc., I was pleasantly surprised by inquiries I received - the volume, the TYPES of inquiries, the locations, etc. So when we talked the other night, I was feeling myself to a degree, singing, “This is why I’m hot, this is why I’m hot…this is why…this is why…this is why I’m hot!” (I know. I need therapy. Um, MORE therapy.) Some of the jobs are things I’m really NOT interested in - I’m qualified, just not interested - but many of them are viable. Hence, my rendition of “This is why I’m hot”.

During a phone interview with a headhunter Monday, salary came up. Based on the job he’s pushing, I give him a range. Yesterday, I met with a different headhunter and she quoted her client’s salary to me. (DAYUM!! I’m trying sooooo hard not to be dazzled by the $$ but again I say to you, D-A-Y-U-M!!). There’s a GI-NORMOUS disparity between the 2nd salary and what I made at “Da Place” (I’d love to feign surprise but I’ve ALWAYS known I was underpaid. Still. DAYUM!!). There was also a noticeable difference between salaries offered for both prospective jobs. I’d like to think it’s because one is non-profit. *shrug*

When I told N the range I gave for the first job, he was mor-ti-fied. I do know that I probably would never have asked for the salary offered at interview #2. Do I think I’m worth that? Yes. Does my resume/work history support that? Yes.

So why wouldn’t I have asked for it? That was N’s question to me.

Ready for the wraparound?

He said to me, “You’ve never known your real value. You always sell yourself short.”

Suddenly I’m not sure if we’re still talking about the potential job…or…something else….

THE WAR HAS ENDED….

Yes folks, the macaroni-n-cheese war has ended. After a minor skirmish in Aisle 4 of our local Walmart where my mother proceeded to be sufficiently shocked to find I was NOT putting eggs in my version. She fired first – telling me how she makes her version and wondering (AGAIN) if “they” were going to like my version. I remind my mother that I will leave her in the store – yes, even on Thanksgiving Eve. Another shopper tried to referee reminding us that it was Thanksgiving and, according to this would-be referee, “just get the turkey, dressing and cranberry sauce right and things will be fine”. My mother and I looked at this poor woman like she had 4 heads and we kindly broke it down for her. Another person came by and weighed in on the seriousness of the situation. Order was restored and we finished our shopping.
Thursday AM, we stirred up some breakfast, pressed someone into dishwashing detail, and then shooed them all out of the kitchen so we could finish our dishes. I ended up making two pans of mac-n-cheese. BigSis#2 and her hubby arrived after breakfast while the dish was sill in the oven. I was going to change so asked if they would keep an eye on the mac-n-cheese…it was “done”, it just needed to brown. I mentioned it didn’t need to cook as long since I don’t use eggs. BigSis#2’s head snapped around as she said, “Whaddya mean you don’t use eggs??!! How can you NOT use eggs?” Oh, if you coulda seen the little smirk on my mom’s face – she thought she had an ally in her even plan to overthrow my version…she thought she had me against the ropes.

I smiled, reminded BigSis#2 that she’d had my version before and even if she didn’t remember then, she would later. (Conceited? No. Just convinced. Ha!) Can I tell you that having made that extra pan saved us? Folks got up looking for more the next day. Ha!

The war is over. My mother conceded victory where the macaroni-n-cheese was concerned. BUT…ya’ll better check on my aunt….she went down in the sweet potato pie wars. It wasn’t pretty…my mom took her down before the first slice was finished. Nope people, not pretty at all.

Hope you had a safe and enjoyable holiday!

(Note: Let the record show, my mother ‘casually’ mentioned she’d make the mac-n-cheese for Christmas. In my house? I’on think so Ms. Lady! *Sigh* I thought the war was over…maybe the enemy is just dropping back to revise her…um…THEIR strategy. *SMH*)

When my fam is acting a little…um…”extra” (or when they’re late to my book event!!), I tell people that I’m adopted. I have confirmation.

After all the festivities of Thanksgiving Day, the house is quiet. My mother and I are sitting here watching “Guess Who” while my nephew D tries to outmaneuver his many female suitors (it’s quite interesting to watch).

We were watching a commercial advertising the board game “Candy Land”. My mother started laughing, saying we should get that game. (Don’t ask me why. I’m telling you I’m adopted!) She tells me a story about families that she worked for years ago (private duty nursing/home health aide) always talking about the game and she didn’t know anything about it since we hadn’t played with it

That sent us back down memory lane as I reminisced about the games we played growing up. I laughed and said we played games like “hot-bread-and-butter”, “Old Red Devil”, “Concentration”, etc. My mom starts reminiscing about how she and her siblings used to make frog houses.

FROG HOUSES.

F.R.O.G. H.O.U.S.E.S.

*Crickets*

My dear mother goes on to say they’d bury their foot in wet sand, let it get firm, pull their foot out and call the “cave” that was created a “frog house”. They’d build a fence around the house…like a brick wall…only made of mud.

*CRIC-KETS*

Between laughs, I asked my mom if they ever saw a frog take up residence in said “house”. Or how did they decide it was meant for a frog?

Why did my mother look at ME like I was the crazy one? (Lemme go check that eggnog….)

Live DELICIOULSY!

Thanksgiving is a day away. Yea!! I’m looking forward to it more this year than I have in the last few years. We’ve had some heavy-duty “stuff” hit our family this year and it’ll good to just come together, laugh, talk about the good old days, make some “good new days”, talk junk over a spirited game of pokeno and just enjoy life.

I think it was my turn to host but given the current state of affairs, I knew I couldn’t get things ready so we’re gathering at my Mom’s. THAT alone is going to be interesting – packing about 17 people into my Mom’s tiny house. We ‘bout to get close, for real.

So, my Mom and I were talking about the menu and when she was going to start cooking, etc. The time-honored tradition of macaroni/cheese came up. Mac/cheese is big for a lot of people but my family takes it to a whole ‘notha level and my Mom’s recipe has always been referred to reverentially. About 4-5 years back, I hosted Turkey Day. Mom & I were grocery shopping and as I picked up things for mac/cheese, Mom would say, “I don’t use that in MY mac/cheese.” I smiled…the first few times. When Moms said “You forgot the XYZ – what kind of mac/cheese are you making? I ALWAYS use XYZ in my mac/cheese.”, I said (as politely as I could), “I’m not making YOUR mac/cheese.” Weeeeelllll, you can just imagine the look of incredulosity on her face (I know it’s not a “real” word but it soooo describes the look on my Mom’s face. She gave me the “Li’l-girl-I’ll-slap-you-straight-outta-ya-craziness” look.)

We got home and I stirred up my version with Mom issuing a snippy “Hmph” every now and then. (I like to think it was extra seasoning. LOL) She said, “Well, it LOOKS good but I’m not sure they’re gonna eat that version.” Puhlease. It was the FIRST of the dishes to disappear…no seconds for the day after. Ha! Cause I’m a pro-fes-sion-al. Fa’ sho’.

So…we’re talking about T-day dinner this year and my Mom offers me the opportunity to prepare the mac/cheese again this year. That is MAJOR for our family. MAJOR I’m telling you. So I’m all giggly and excited (some days, it doesn’t take much LOL), thinking to myself, “She’s passing the torch. Wow!” And then my over-active imagination kicked in and I became a wee-bit suspicious. “Of your own MOTHER?!” you ask, shocked. YES PEOPLE – my own MOTHER. WAKE UP – WE’RE TALKING MACARONI-N-CHEESE HERE PEOPLE!!

Yes, these days I’m looking at my mother differently. Watching for signs that she’s trying to set me up…or maybe she’s been replaced by a cyborg. Something is amiss. (Somebody stop that dayum Western movie showdown music from playing will ya?!)

What I once thought was her passing the torch now feels more like her throwing down the gauntlet. Here I thought we were having one of those Kung Fu moments, “Snatch the pebble from my hand Grasshopper.” Scoff if you will people – this is a serious RED ALERT! My mom has been known to get up from her sickbed to stir up a pan of mac/cheese. She’s a soldier in the mac/cheese army people! Green beret. Purple heart. Special forces. Covert ops and all that jazz!

Nevertheless, I’m ‘bout to do the dayum thang. She tried to throw me off by asking all sweetly if I was going to prepare the dish at my house and then transport it to her house. Ha! She really thinks I’m a rookie, huh? You DO NOT prepare mac/cheese beforehand. It must be cooked at the hosting home the day of the event.

Ahhhh, so she wants to turn up the heat, eh?

Weeelllll, I gots something for her. I’m wound her with my lip-smacking mac/cheese and clip her wings when I walk in with…..

SWEET POTATO PIE.

Yeah, I do declare war Baby!

I’m going in!

All is fair in love, war, macaroni-n-cheese…and sweet potato pie.

(Ya’ll can tie pieces of poetry around your trees until I make it home. Just know that I love you all.)

Enjoy your holiday! And if you don’t “celebrate”/recognize the day, enjoy yourself anyway - whatever you do.

Live DELICIOUSLY!

Two days until Thanskgiving. I’m looking forward to just spending some down time with my family and friends, hanging out in my Mom’s house that will be ’swole up’ with company, bursting at the seams with laughter and lots of “member when” conversations. Playing cards (um, ok WATCHING THEM play cards), making up silly games and even sillier songs for my nieces/nephews. The last few weeks have been crazy – my oldest childhood friends lost their dad; another friend had a mild stroke; another had her blood pressure hit numbers way beyond the danger zone. Add that to my FM flare-ups/exhaustion and some other oddities that I refuse to give time, attention or energy. It’s been a rough year for my family so this window of downtime is going to be that much more precious, that much more memorable.

Princess So Fabulous and I haven’t done our ‘Christmas Workshop’ in a few years so it’s time to revive the tradition. Hmmm…considering we now have a 4yr old and a 2yr old in the fold (plus 5 & 2-yr old cousins on hand this year), we might have to make alternative plans. But we can at least begin to plan our items and make lists of supplies. I think we’ll make personalized Christmas cards this year, complete with original drawings by the Princess. (They’re all the rage you know!) In the meantime, I’ll gather all that hyperactivity into my Mom’s kitchen, make the Princess my ‘supervisor’ and stir up homemade cookies with the kids.

I’ve got an awesome gift idea twirling around in my head for my siblings. Not sure I can pull it off though but I’m gonna do some investigative work. Hopefully I can get it done in time for Christmas. We’ll see. My grandmother has been on my mind a lot lately. I keep forgetting to ask my mom if she has any of Gram’s quilts/blankets. Some of that material would make the perfect accompaniment for what I have in mind. Lawdy, so many ideas, so little energy.

That reminds me – I need to get hopping where gifts are concerned. I haven’t purchased nary a one. Up until last night, I hadn’t made a single decision as to what anyone was getting. Even more surprising, BigBro#4 and wife JUST started shopping this past weekend. They’re usually done with most of their gifts wrapped by this time of year. If you only saw how much they buy, you’d understand why they start so early. Whew!

Last year I skipped the Christmas decorations. Mostly because I was knee-deep in preparations for my book release party and was already frazzled. But I’m ready to work it out this year. My plan was to buy a prelit tree this year but it may have to wait until next year. My mom says I’m missing the best part – stringing the lights – but since I have ‘unannounced’ episodes of muscle weakness, I’m trying to simplify where I can. I’m dusting off my collection of Afrocentric ornaments, hoping to add a few more to the collection, trying to decide where I’m gonna put my Mom’s favorite chair (it’s in the Christmas tree spot. So many decisions…Hmmm, I guess since I got out of hosting Thanksgiving, I may be on Christmas detail. We’ll see.

Yep, plans are in effect for this holiday season. Just need to figure out who’s hosting Christmas. Then it’s on to planning my birthday. Whoo-hoo!!

Yeah, Turkey Day should be very interesting. I overheard BigSis#2 asking Mom about liquor. Um…don’t nobody drink but “Uncle Pete”. Stay tuned folks. Between that and the macaroni-n-cheese showdown of 2007….it might get ugly. LOL (Come by tomorrow, I’ll put you up on the mac/cheese showdown.)

The Coffee or the Cup

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.

Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups - porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite -telling them to help themselves to the coffee.

When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said:
“If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving
behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only
The best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. Be
assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee. In most cases it
is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink. What
all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went
for the best cups.. . And then you began eyeing each other’s cups.

Now consider this: Life is the coffee; the jobs, money and position in society
are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, and the type of cup we have does not define, nor change the quality of life we live.Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee God has provided us.”

God brews the coffee, not the cups……….

Enjoy your coffee!

~ Author Unknown ~

I tried to climb the mountain today. As i inched my way up the path, I felt out of breath and I had to turn back.

I tried to climb the mountain today. But it was so hot outside, I thought I had better stay in my nice air-conditioned house and rest up for tomorrow’s attempt.

I tried to climb the mountain today. On my journey, darkness started to fall and I was full of fear, so I had to return to a safe place.

I was ready to climb the mountain today. But I had so many other things to do, so instead of climbing the mountain, I took care of much more important tasks. I washed my car, mowed the grass, and watched the big game. Today the mountain will just have to wait.

I was going to climb the mountain today. But as I stared at the mountain in its majestic beauty, I knew I had no chance of making it to the top, so I figured why even begin trying.

I have forgotten about climbing the mountain today, until a friend came by and asked me what I was up to lately. I told him I was thinking about climbing that mountain some day. I went on and on about how I was going to accomplish this task.

Finally he said, “I just got back from climbing that mountain. For the longest time, I told myself I was trying to climb that mountain but never made any progress.

“I almost let the dream of making it to the top die. I came up with every excuse of why I could not make it up the mountain, but never once did I give myself a reason why I could. One day as I stared at the mountain and pondered, I realized that if I didn’t make an attempt at this dream all my dreams will eventually die.

“The next morning, I started my climb,” he continued. “It was not easy, and at times I wanted to quit. But no matter what I faced, I placed one foot in front of the other, keeping a steady pace. When the wind tried to blow me over the edge, I kept walking. When the voices inside my head screamed, ‘STOP!’, I focused on my goal, never letting it out of sight, and I kept moving forward. At times, I was ready to quit, but I knew I had come too far. Time and time again, I reassured myself that I was going to finish this journey. I struggled to make it to the top but I climbed the mountain!

“I have to be going,” my friend said. “Tomorrow is a new day to accomplish more dreams. By the way, what are you going to do tomorrow?”

I looked at him, with intensity and confidence in my eyes and said, “I have a mountain to climb.”

– Gary Barnes

Make no mistake about it: we all have mountains we must climb if we are to be who we are truly meant to be, to live our lives to the fullest, to step into our purpose.

We can “try” to climb the mountain….or we can actually climb the mountain.

Note: Do not let yourself be sidetracked the “hills” that you proclaim to be a mountain. Don’t be fooled by what’s really a molehill.

I believe Yoda said it best, “There is no TRY…only DO.”

What’s YOUR mountain?

Live Deliciously!

<

**** I actually wrote this post last November. November 16 to be exact. After watching Robin Roberts discuss her battle with cancer on air, airing video of having her head shaved, modeling during Fashion Week. Yesterday, Robin took off her wig. She no longer intends to wear a wig. She is as she has always been - a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful spirit. What a picture of courage and grace.

You can watch the on-air clip here:
Robin Roberts Au Naturale

YESTERDAY….

Robin Roberts shared more of her story regarding her battle against cancer. Yesterday she aired the video of having her head shaved. Many people who have cancer and go through chemotherapy lose their hair. Robin says other survivors told her to be proactive, to be preemptive…to cut her hair BEFORE it started falling out. She didn’t. She waited. And so, after discovering that it was coming out when touched, she sat down in a chair, had them put the cape around her and let her stylist shave her head. She told the story about wearing a wig on air so that the viewers aren’t distracted from the story, not because she wants to hide or deny the truth of her story. She shared pictures of herself without the wig…

That story moved me to tears.

Oddly enough, just the day before, I wrote a poem called “His Hands” that made reference to a woman losing her hair…and her breasts…to cancer. (I’m not sure if the folks who read it made that connection since I never “named” cancer as the villain in that piece).

I don’t know why I wrote it. I carried that piece around with me all day yesterday…mentally, emotionally. I couldn’t shake it. I don’t know why.

Do I know folk who’ve battled cancer? Yes.

My mom lost her best friend to cancer years ago. I don’t remember her being sick - I remember them telling us she had cancer, the next thing I remember she was in the hospital and then….

I know a group of ladies, about 5-6 of them who worked together for years. Of the 5-6 of them, all but one has battled some form of cancer - for most of them it was breast cancer. Of the 5-6 of them, only two are still with us.

I know males who are battling some form of cancer too.

I don’t know why that poem tugged at my conscious, waiting to be birthed on paper. All I know is, I wrote it two yesterdays ago. One yesterday ago, I watched Robin Roberts’ story of hair loss. I pulled out that poem, read it again, ran my hands through my head full of 2-strand twists, and uttered a
prayer through my own tears.

As people of color - especially women - we spent years talking about “good hair” vs. “bad hair”. What a waste of time and energy. “Good hair” is HEALTHY hair. Period. End of story. Permed. Natural. Texlaxed.

So many of us have yet to make peace with whatever kind of hair we have. We frown on folks who wear their hair natural, we talk about folks who deal with the “creamy crack”. In the end, what does it really matter?

“I am not my hair. I am not my skin. I’m am the soul that lives within.”

Love yourself - all of you. Embrace all that you are. Be bold. Be beautiful. BE.

Live from your soul,
~ J ~

We interrupt this non-stop rotation of Ledisi, (”Lost & Found”…do NOT sleep on this ya’ll - this sister is f-i-e-r-c-e with TWO F’s!), Jill Scott (”The Real Thing”), and Alicia Keys (”As I Am”) to share one of my favorite songs from Keyshia Cole’s “Just Like You” CD….

LOSING YOU…featuring Anthony Hamilton (No, it’s not the “official video”)

Whew! Fan me! Tell me that Anthony Hamilton does not MAKE this song?!?!

Baby, I know what you’ve been through.
So I’m here to relieve you.
Remind you.
Renew you.
Rebuild you.
Girl, I’ll do whatever it takes just to reshape what he mess up.
Cuz real love needs real love.
And I’m here love cuz I need you.

“I’m here to RELIEVE you, RENEW you, REBUILD you…RESHAPE what he mess up…”

Say that? Mean it? “And the walls came tumbling down….”

…reminds me of a conversation I had with someone about bruising easy…administering time & attention to said wounds…

*SWOON*

Play if ya want to. I’m just saying….

When does a life experience or situation become BAGGAGE? Or do you automatically see what might be a “life experience” or situation as BAGGAGE? Some people do.

See, I think there’s a difference between someone having a life experience vs. someone having BAGGAGE.

A divorce can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Being a single parent can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Growing up without your mother/father/both…can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Losing a job or your business can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Having an illness can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
A broken heart can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Poor finances/bankruptcy can be a life experience…or it can be BAGGAGE.
Etc, etc etc.

To me, the distinction is how you carry that experience. If you “pack lightly” – owning the pieces of the experience that truly belong to you, those that you are responsible for – the things you did/didn’t do, those that will help you be better the next time…to me, that’s a life experience. It can help you move forward, do better, be better, heal. While that experience may have helped shape you, it doesn’t DEFINE or CONFINE you. It isn’t the first thing people see, notice or hear about you.

If you pack without even looking through the situation and you’re dragging it around behind you or waving it like an announcement…if you use it as an excuse or a crutch to “explain” why you can’t do XYZ…if it becomes that sad song you sing automatically (you treat it like elevator music…it’s ALWAYS playing in your life)…THAT to me? BAGGAGE!

You let it keep you from moving ahead, dreaming, making plans, doing better. It is literally dead weight but for some reason, you insist on carrying it around instead of lightening your load.

A few weeks back, I had lunch with a friend who happens to be a former coworker. She asked about a specific situation I’d dealt with in the workplace, one she witnessed herself…and asked me what I thought the root cause was (she thought it racism…I chocked it up to sheer stupidity. *shrug*) During that conversation, I shared a few other things with her. Her mouth dropped open. She was floored. I remembered her saying to me, “I had no idea you’d been through all that. You never said a word. You never let it stop you or slow you down.” I shrugged and said to her, “It was just another experience, something I lived and learned my way through.” Truth is, for a person of color who is also female in a world dominated by folk who don’t look like me, it’s par for the course. EXPERIENCE.

I could have easily have let it become BAGGAGE…but see, we each control our our conversion factor. Remember that folks - YOU control the conversion of an experience to BAGGAGE…or BAGGAGE (real, perceived, inherited, etc.) to experience. Make it do what it do.

A friend of mine said it’s possible that we “inherit” baggage. You know…”generational curses”…alcoholism, domestic violence, promiscuity, etc. (Their example centered around the children of An.na Nic.ole Sm.ith, Bri.tany Spe.ars, etc.) True. “Hand-me-down BAGGAGE”. Like it’s “vintage” or something. (NOTE: Please please please be careful of the legacy you’re leaving for your loved ones.) BUT…I think it’s possible to unpack some of that ish. No, it’s not easy but it CAN be done. Trust. I know this to be true. First hand. Hell, I’m still sorting through some stuff…I know its BAGGAGE, I know it’s not mine but we’ve grown accustomed to each other.

Just like you get used to certain things, BAGGAGE gets used to being carried. That’s the thing about BAGGAGE. Once you drop it, stop shoving it into closets, hiding it under the bed…once you let the light of day hit it consistently…you’ll find in many cases you got stuff with someone else’s baggage claim ticket. You find that, like spandex, it’s no longer in vogue, it doesn’t fit…and most importantly, it doesn’t look good on you.

Sifting through the remnants of all that stuff can be tiring. But not as tiring as continuing to carry it around when it serves no purpose…other than to keep you living small. If that’s your thing, more power to you…and your baggage.

Me? I aim to pack light as I move deeper into this journey called life.

Teaching Men to Cheat CORRECTLY….

W.T.F.??

Seriously.

WTF?

The topic on the Tom Joyner Morning Show today is “The Man is Mine”. To break it down, it’s about cheating, sharing, when you found out he was cheating, etc.

This sister came on to promote a book she’s writing - something like “The Official Woman’s Guide to How a Man Should Cheat”. For real.

She says her book will detail

* the best times of day to cheat (between 7am-7pm)
* who to cheat with
* sexual acts/positions to avoid (she recommends that there is no face-to-face sex where you’re gazing into each other’s eyes and no kissing - mouth to mouth…”too intimate” and coud lead the woman to believe the situation is more than what it is)
* how to avoid being caught

She also says that women talk too much, nag too much, we’re tired all the time, and that women aren’t really holding it down in the kitchen or the bedroom. (Hmmm…didn’t Damon Wayans just say the same thing? U-G-H) Oh yeah, she also says we’re either the woman being cheated on or the woman he’s cheating with. Check it out for yourself: http://www.blackamericaweb.com/site.aspx/tjms/listen/cheater

(Not to be outdone, there’s another book on the market that gives you over 800 signs that he’s cheating. You know what worries me about THAT book? I think I said it before but I’ll repeat it: the book gives over 800 “signs” and you know out there somewhere, someone isn’t going to believe their partner is cheating until they can check off each and every one of them. *smh*)

*SIGH*

SWEET JESUS PART THE SKY.

Last week, I mentioned being invited to facilitate what I was calling “Conversations & Couples” sessions. Um, I don’t think I’m on this list as moderator anymore. See, the very first ‘conversation’ my friend wanted to host had to do with cheating. Now, I love good conversation - whether it’s one-on-one or in a group. And, I’m not opposed to a dialogue on cheating.

HOWSOMEVER, I’m not a fan of dialogue for sensation, controversy, etc. The very first topic on his list was “Who Cheats More – Men or Women”. Now, I’ve heard those kinds of discussions before. It’s ugly. Painful. Divisive. I’ve never been around one, heard one or read about it where it didn’t become ugly. I don’t see the point in the discussion so I choose to take my energy elsewhere. B seems to think it can be productive…but he can’t explain to me how.

Cheating is such a volatile topic. It’s almost impossible to have a conversation about it without injecting your personal experience in the dialogue. It’s like lighting a stick of dynamite and expecting it to be a sparkler.

B says I’m being too ‘idealistic’ – he said it like it’s an illness. I’ve been called that before. *shrug* Sometimes I am. It’s not that I don’t think people cheat, it’s not like I think cheating is simply going to stop one day. I just can’t see the rationale behind the weighing and measuring of who cheats more. It’s not that I think women DON’T cheat - I know better. Nor do I think ALL men cheat. But think about it: you’re in a relationship, your partner comes in and admits to cheating. Are you really going to stop and run through the stats in your mind and figure out how his/her cheating tips the scales? Hell to da naw!

In that moment, you’re most likely not going to hear anything else that’s said – not the who, what, why, when, how or why of it all – you simply hear the words, “Um…I’ve been seeing someone else”. And when you come to, you simply pray that you didn’t choke said partner to death…just til said partner became woozy. (Ooops. Had a flashback. ‘Scuse me.)

Okay…for the record, he didn’t get choked. He did, however, have to patch a huge hole in the wall after that lead crystal ashtray was lobbed at his head. To quote Maxwell Smart, “Missed him by that much.” Yeah, Zahara ain’t the only one with a mean throwing arm. *wink*