The World…As I See It: Alas, An Idol I Am Not

Enjoy the musical stylings of someone I just saw in concert but doubt would be chosen by American Idol either.  (Not that I’m comparing, just saying)

Corinne Bailey Rae “Closer”

This week I auditioned for Season 10 of American Idol.  (I couldn’t believe it’d been 10 years.  I must confess I can only remember 7 of the 9.  Is that bad? Oh well…)  The process is simple (an initial cattle call with the producers) and very early( I had to be in line by 5 am.  I only see that type of morning by accident).  Anyway, after waiting for 7 hours, I was told I would not be the next American Idol.  There was the initial pang of disappointment but then I picked up my purse and started to move on (figuratively and literally, it was a cattle call after all).

Being told you’re not good enough should have more of an impact if you really wanted something, right?  Sure, being a part of American Idol would’ve been a dream come true but for some reason I wasn’t all that surprised and therefore not all that disappointed.  I hadn’t really been able to envision myself in Hollywood, meeting Ryan Seacrest and trying to make teenagers and middle-aged moms simultaneously fall in love with me enough to text in votes.  It just sounded like something I needed to do.

(Plus, I may have just set myself up.  I chose to sing “My Funny Valentine.”  It’s a great song but since my valentine this year turned out to be a bust, I may have still had that bad energy around the song…. Just a thought.)

I love music.  Nothing moves me as much as sounds.  Words alone have minimal power.  And while images can be beautiful, nothing can twist or fill my heart as much as a good song.  And I pretty much love it all.  While r&b and jazz are what I listen to the most, I can appreciate a good country, rock or classical song.  I like to mix it up.  Borrow my iPod someday and you’ll understand.  Give me something new to learn about.

However, my love for music never fully translated into loving to be a performer.  I love singing.  I enjoy being on stage and hearing my voice over a PA system.  But that’s never been what I missed.  I’ve missed hearing all of the sounds meld.  I miss performing with a band.  I miss almost getting distracted by the bass line and missing my cues.  I miss forgetting there’s a crowd or audience and vibing with the other people on stage whether it was with a viola in my hand in orchestra, donning a robe in choir or 4 inch heels at a club with a band.

I also love writing.  It’s not necessarily the process that I love because I don’t really have a process.  Some songs start and never get finished while others are completed in two hours.  However, I think it’s cool to hear other people sing what you wrote.  They can styilze it as much as they want but in the end the song is mine, my words.  That’s kind of a cool feeling, I must admit.

And I’m also good.  I know we’re all supposed to be somewhat humble but I’ll accept that amongst other things, singing is a talent I possess, a talent I was given.  Unfortunately, I never felt pushed enough to really hone my skill.  Instead, I relied upon what came naturally and easily.  If I can be good without practicing, who needs to be amazing?  That kind of attitude probably has something to do with not being chosen.  But I don’t care how amazing you are, it’s hard to display that in 5-7 seconds.  I need to warm up.  🙂

Regardless, music is a part of me but being famous may not be in the stars.  And that’s just fine.  Despite having a certain level of talent, I never really had the desire.  Fame is great and I’m not knocking it.  If I had the opportunity, I’m sure I’d jump.  But while it’s not a reality and I can be happy that my career does not depend as heavily on what I can do as what I look like.  Hair, make-up, personal trainers and plastic surgery do not help me do my job.  I think that’s often more important than the talent in music nowadays.  I accept that American Idol is not meant for me.  But at least I tried, I can’t complain if I don’t try, right?

Plus, I refuse to believe I wasn’t good enough.  I just wasn’t what they were looking for.  That has to be closer to the truth.  Haha.

On to the next adventure,

Jo’van

August 14, 2010
Categories: The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

The World…As I See It: Important People vs. Important Experiences

This song came on Pandora as I was proofreading and I didn’t have any other ideas for the post….

Our life is made up of essentially two things: important people and important experiences.  The distinction may be too subtle to normally distinguish but it’s a concept that I’ve played with for awhile.  As I see it, there are people who mean something to you and memories that mean something to you and they may not always be of equal importance.

Let’s say for instance, you had a school friend growing up who decided for some reason to end the friendship.  The pain, confusion of that one-sided decision may have stuck with you and taught you something.  Maybe it’s that people can be flaky or not every friend is meant to be a best friend.  Or you had a co-worker who routinely threw people under the bus when the pressure was on.  Although you no longer wanted to have a relationship with that person, you learned something from them.  You learned how to cover your ass and be prepared to avoid people like that in the future.  Or an ex who liked you best in a t-shirt, jeans and no make-up.  Maybe from/with him you learned other people could see you as pretty without all of the artificial additions.  A stranger checking you ID at the airport told you you should smile more b/c your smile’s so nice on your license.  (That’s actually happened but in my defense I wasn’t smiling b/c it was 6 in the morning and I was the airport…)

Then we switch to the people. Maybe there was a special teacher who was the first person not blood related to to see your potential and encourage you.  An old friend you grew apart from but had no problem starting up where you left off 10 years later.  An ex who made you realize it is possible to hate someone you love.  A choir director you thought hated you but it was just that they expected more of you.  A boss who knew you were worth more than your paycheck.

The possibilities could be endless and easily intermingled.  Generally important people are a part of our important experiences.  The distinction for me is whether I think more about how I felt and what I learned than what they said and where they are now.  Everyone enters our lives for a reason.  Some are meant to teach us something and disappear into the sea of faces while others are specially designed for us and our needs.  Count your blessings for the important people wherever they may be and however long it’s been since they touched your life.

Jo’van

May 9, 2010
Categories: The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Shades of Understanding: Why I Should Really Celebrate Cinco de Mayo

A repost from last year but it still works. 🙂

Yes, I just love this song and Carlos Santana’s Mexican so it works, right?  Rob Thomas’ wife (the lady in the window) is Puerto Rican.  Close enough…

Cinco de Mayo!!!  For many people, May 5th has something to do with a Mexican battle and is a perfect excuse to gorge on chips and salsa, inhale soft shell tacos and drink a lot of (if not too many) Corona’s and Mexican Martinis.  Traditionally for me, Cinco de Mayo celebrations are about finding the most colorful dress you have and preparing to drink to oblivion (or most often in my case watching other people drink to oblivion).  There’s been very little history or real knowledge associated with the date.  But today I learned something new about the holiday.  Who knew Cinco de Mayo had a (near) direct relationship to the emancipation of slavery?

I learned this through a post titled “Market Research: Cinco de Mayo Isn’t Indepence Day” on Advertising Age’s The Big Tent blog.  According to the Fayetville Observer (North Carolina):

“During this time, Confederate General Robert E. Lee was enjoying success, and had the French defeated México at Puebla, France would have aided the South in the American Civil War in order to free Southern ports of the Union Blockade. The Mexicans had won a great victory that kept Napoleon III from supplying the confederate rebels for another year, allowing the United States to build the greatest army the world had ever seen.”

While there’s a lot more to it, the success of the Mexicans over the French aided in the Yankees over the Confederates.  Viva la Mexico!

Toasting her Corona,

Jo’van

May 5, 2010
Categories: Shades of Understanding (Race Relations), The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Romantic Cynic: Can’t Rationalize Away Missing Someone

Keri Hilson’s “Energy”

It’s been a few weeks since I returned to single (hopefully not fully returning to perpetual singledom but we’ll just have to see…) and I’m wondering why it continues to weigh on my mind.  It’s not that I’m taking it badly per se.  In fact, I’ve realized and rationalized this particular breakup enough to be able to list out what I learned and prepare to carry those lessons into the next relationship (maybe).  Plus, being two relatively mature and rational people, we ended things on “good terms.”  Neither hates the other person or feels overly guilty (my personal gauges for a clean break).   That’s great, right?

Normally upon ending a relationship, there are some strong feelings.  You either can’t stand the person and relish in being angry, are heartbroken and wallow in your misery, or know you didn’t treat that person fairly and hide from your guilt.  Those are all feelings I understand, can rationalize and know how to handle.  Unfortunately, I don’t find myself able to relate to any or just one of these reactions.

I am both hurt and angry that someone I cared about no longer cares about me.  Although I can’t help but wonder if I cared so much because he’d become a regular part of my life in a relatively short period of time or if I made him a regular part of my life in such a short period of time because I cared so much.  Semantics.  The important thing is that I cared, had gotten used to having him around and now he’s not.  A man I developed affection for was no longer willing to play an active role in my life.  And to be completely honest, I wasn’t all that willing to play the part he wanted me to play in his.

But I also feel a little guilty for not being able to ignore how my actions and emotions might have been interpreted and received.  I was told point-blank what was needed of me and I only gave what wasn’t vulnerable.  Although there were questionable and shady going-ons, I decided to just enjoy myself with him, with us.  So in addition to hurt, anger and guilt, I now just feel normal again; single, in control, not bitter but guarded.  The problem is that that normal is no longer necessarily the desired feeling.  I was enjoying feeling special again.

As I find myself evaluating this lose, I am annoyed that I genuinely miss him. But the thing that annoys me more is having to admit (and therefore address) that I miss us even more.

Missing a person is normal.  It’s natural.  It makes sense.  If you spend enough voluntary (important distinction) time with someone, you’re bound to grow fond of them, close to them.  If they happen to be attractive, available and of the gender of your preference, it’s quite possible that fondness could develop into a more physical expression.  Once they’re gone (for whatever reason), you’d have to be extremely cold or indifferent not to miss that person and/or being with them.

However, what I’m begrudgingly realizing is that I also really miss the thought and feeling of being a part of an us. I miss a hand on the small of my back.  A whispering baritone voice sending chills down my spine.  Hoping someone in particular left you that blinking message on your phone.  Knowing someone wants to see you after a long day at work.  Daydreaming.  Feeling attractive.  Worrying about being attractive for/to one person in particular rather than any and no one.  Having an excuse to even entertain the idea of being sexy.  Smiling for no reason anyone around you will understand.  Not wanting to be alone and having one person who’ll enjoy just being with you, no agendas.  Not understanding why but believing someone considers you more special and finding comfort in that.  I miss being a happy choice.

While it’d be great if we’d gotten comfortable enough to do and feel those things (consistently) for each other, I understand it simply wasn’t meant to happen for us.  And while I can’t possibly understand why it would be difficult to be in a relationship with me :-), there’s no point worrying why one person in particular wouldn’t choose to.  The most important thing to note is the “not.”  Not having it/him/us doesn’t make me less.  I’m perfectly happy, capable and whole single.  I’m used to single.  Single’s comfortable.  But as painful as it is for such a fiercely independent person to admit, having it/him/us did make me feel a little more.  I’m just kind of missing that more.  I’d forgotten that special.

Failing to rationalize away missing being someone to someone,

Jo’van

April 15, 2010
Categories: Romantic Cynic (Love And Lookalikes), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

No Patience for You: Why I Am Not a Fan of Outdoor Cat Owners

My roommate and I recently moved and I am so excited.  We’ve upgraded from a 2nd floor apartment to a house with a fenced in backyard, much larger kitchen, 2-car garage, amongst other things.  The rent’s a little higher but well worth it, more space for us and more space for our two dogs.  Now we can wake up and just kick the dogs outside to do their business rather than have to get dressed, leash them, etc.  With every good thing, comes a bad.  We now are responsible for maintaining a yard; mowing the lawn, trimming the trees and hedges, etc.  With all that we’re getting, that’s not so bad.  The lawnmower’s even included.  So what’s my issue?  Our neighbor’s cats.

The lady next door to us has at least 6 outdoor cats.  The one time I’ve spoken with her, I counted a half a dozen cats sitting in her yard, climbing on our fence, sitting on her front porch, sitting on top of my car and rubbing up against my leg.  Jokes about crazy cat ladies aside, I agree anyone is should be able to have as many pets and they like and can take care of.  As long as you keep a clean home, feed and care for them, cats are generally independent animals, often considered the easiest of the huggable domestic animals.  And despite the fact that I’m allergic to them, I don’t dislike cats.  My problems are usually with their owners.

As a sensitive dog owner, I am generally annoyed by the concept of outdoor cats.  Anytime my dogs growl at someone or something, poop in public and I have to search for a bag, lick themselves when other people are around our do just about anything else that’s not considered “best behavior”, I get embarrassed.  Yes, I know they are just dogs and will do things dog-like.  And I love them for it.  However, as a pet owner, I realize they are my responsibility.  If they scare a child at the park, I’m responsible.  When Rodman bit someone last winter, I was responsible.  When they poop in public, I’m responsible for cleaning it up. And on and on.  They are our furry children.  However, it seems outdoor cat owners do not feel this same level of public responsibility.

Outdoor cats are notorious for annoying non-cat owners/lovers.  Between the cats in this neighborhood, those at our old apartment complex, and those my neighbors had growing up, outdoor cats have sprayed my house (worse, my bedroom window), walked all over our cars, entered our yard as they like, fought under my bedroom window, gotten entirely too comfortable in my car when the door was open unloading groceries, pranced into and around our home, aggravated our dogs and treated our flower beds as personal litter boxes.  While these are all things “cats just do”, they would only happen if/when their owners decide to let their domesticated animals roam free.

If I were to let my dog roam free, he would quickly be picked up by the city, sent to the pound until I claim him, adopted out or put down.  I can’t simply put bowls for food and water on my front porch and consider my job as a pet owner done.  If my dog takes a dump in/on someone’s yard, I’m responsible for cleaning it up.   (I realize all dog owners do not do this but it is the common and legal expectation.)  Where are the cat owners when their 15 lbs cats poop in our flower bed right next to the front door?  My dog’s 15 lbs.  Their poop’s the same size.  Can I just leave it?  What about if their cat’s sick?  If/when my dogs sniff (or eat, yes, I have a cat poop eating dog) the cat feces, will anyone else be paying for the vet bills if the cat has worms?  The only way to prevent this would be still leashing our dogs and observing them as they are out and about in our own yard.  What’s the point then?

And what about me?  I’m allergic to cat dander.  Typically, I just sneeze and my eyes burn.  In severe cases, however, my throat constricts and I feel like I’m having as asthma attack.  I understand my allergies are not my neighbor’s fault.  But when she pointed out one of her cats (I can’t remember its name) and told me that’s the one that’ll climb into your car and hang out in your home, I mentioned to her that I’m allergic.  She seemed completely unphased.  I continued, letting her know that if a cat enters my car or home, I might have complications.  She just stared at me blankly.  I wondered if I’d mentioned a bb gun to prevent that from happening if she’d have reacted then…

With this woman, I realize there’s not going to be anything that we’re going to be able to do.  She’s obviously lived this way for quite some time and sees no issue with her roaming, flea-carrying, poop and dander depositing fur balls.  My roommate’s purchased a variety of anti-cat products for the yard and I’ve decided to let the dogs out into the yard anytime I see one of those cats looking for their next litter box spot.  Outside of that, I just have to live with it.  I wish no ill will for the cats and I hope Café, our 80 lb mutt, never gets a hold of one of her cats.  But I can’t help but wonder if I could send her my doctor’s bills after an asthma attack, car detailing bills after one’s nestled itself in my passenger seat or train Rodman to shit in her yard without picking it up…

Annoyed and plotting,

Jo’van

April 11, 2010
Categories: No Patience For You (SIGH), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

The World…As I See It: Differing Interpretations

This song doesn’t exactly fit but I just heard it this week and wanted to share.  Vivian Green’s “Save Me”

When you meet someone and get to know them, whoever they are to you is simply whoever they are.  Your time, experiences, conversations define who and what that person is.  Whether they’re smart, silly, mean, a hard ass or a push over, you know them.  Or at least you know a part of them.  I doubt most people are naïve enough to think they know everything about someone else, but you do grow to consider yourself an expert of sorts.

I recently got to know a new person.   We spent enough time together for me to feel comfortable in my judgment of that person and their character.  Not everything is/was perfect and positive but the negative just helps define the character.  I got to know this person.  Good, bad, indifferent, laughter, arguments, I got to know this person.

Along comes a mutual friend to redefine that person.  They’ve known the new person longer and in different lights.  The things I’d chosen to ignore were BIG deals for the friend.  The issues they’d experienced were foreign to me (although I could usually see it if I really wanted to admit it).   While I trust my friend and take their opinions to heart, how do I reconcile these two interpretations of one person?

Were the things I learned life altering?  No.  Did I just discover this person is a murderer, rapist, chronic cheater, child hater, secret prostitute/gigolo or anything that severe or ridiculous?  No, not at all.  They’re just not the person I believed or wanted to believe they were.  The things I excused hoping they were momentary may turn out to just be genuine character flaws.  So now what?

Nothing really.  Unless the new information is so shocking I lose respect for the person, it’s just new information.  Now, it may make me question the nature and/or intensity of my relationship with this person, but it’s not necessarily a deal breaker.  It could just force new contract negotiations.

Hopefully, new information about any situation just makes you evaluate what you know and how you feel about someone.  And in this case, it’s done just that for me.  This new information validates the unpleasant gut feelings I had but tried to suppress while also forcing me defend things I understood better.  In the end, I am a curious person.  I am analytical AND emotional.  I want as much information as possible to feel my opinions are valid and my reactions are aligned with reality.  Sometimes that level of information can only be gleaned from other people’s perspectives.  No matter how unpleasant or disappointing.

Regaining faith in my gut again,

Jo’van

April 8, 2010
Categories: The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Eye of the Beholder: Anticipating Beauty

TLC’s “Unpretty”  (Remix featuring 2Pac – His rap really doesn’t fit but that’s kind of why I like it…)

Sitting under the dryer at the hair salon, I can’t help but wonder “Why am I doing this to myself?”.  Every 4-8 weeks, I’m paying someone to straighten this, highlight that, thread those, wax that.  On special occasions, I pay more to have this cut, those painted or that lasered.  (I’m no longer just talking about the hair on the top of my head.)  To keep in line with the costly exterior upgrades, I also pay to have access to those weights and run on that treadmill.  In short, I’m a normal, healthy, self-conscious, vain 25-year-old woman.

Now, I understand all of these “services” are voluntary but I see most of them as necessary to stay in line with my contemporaries and expectations.  And to be completely honest, I feel better about myself and my appearance afterwards.  No one believes my hair’s naturally straight with red highlights, eyebrows perfectly arched, or that my toes naturally appear in various shades of reds and purples.  BUT I imagine more people would notice bushy eyebrows, kinky (and not in the attractive afro style) hair, and a mustache.  I do what I can and what I think I need to.  (Sometimes not the same things.)

A few months ago, I went to see Chris Rock’s documentary “Good Hair”.  If you’re at all interested and/or curious about the processes, costs, stigmas, and assumptions about black hair, I’d highly recommend the film.  As my friend and I found ourselves laughing and nodding our heads in agreement with the commentators, one particular moment, or better statement, stuck with me.

A well-known, arguably renowned, hair stylist preparing for a major hair show and competition decided to go the extra mile for vanity and try Botox.  The costs and pain were worth it for him to look his best.  After the procedure, once the bleeding had stopped, he looked in the mirror and said, “I don’t feel as beautiful as I anticipated.”  I couldn’t help but laugh and wonder “Do we ever?”.  This man’s in the business of making people look and feel better and he’s still unsatisfied with himself.  Of all the people, shouldn’t he have more realistic, and therefore more achievable, expectations?

For good or bad, God made me whatever I am.  While I’m not considering anything as drastic as plastic surgery (although an upper lip and cup sizes proportional to my backside would be nice…), my actions are, in effect, trying to improve on His design.  He loves me hairy legged, nappy headed and ashy.  I should be able to too.  And you know, I do love myself.  I just like myself more well put together.  Hair, make-up, outfits, shoes, they’re all a front.  The question really isn’t “if I’m putting up a front with my efforts” but “if I can accept and admit a front’s all it is.”

Not anticipating beauty (just hoping really hard for it),

Jo’van

March 31, 2010
Categories: Eye of the Beholder (Self-Image), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

Romantic Cynic: Not Reaping the Benefits

This song’s a bit more extreme than what I’m going through but aren’t most?  I heard it for the first time during my make-yourself-miserable phase of the mourning period and it stuck with me.  This is essentially what I felt he was saying to me.  Or maybe what I was hoping he was saying…  (Plus, I needed a guitar riff to honor the ex.  Most sappy r&b songs just don’t have those.)

Rascal Flatts “I Feel Bad”

I recently got out of a decent relationship with a good guy.  To be more specific, I was let go.  Much like being laid off, I saw it coming but just tried to keep smiling and pretend as if nothing was happening, waiting for the cloud to pass over.  No one wants to admit they were the one broken up with.  But I find a level of comfort in at least being intelligent and sensitive enough to not be surprised.

Anyway, 3 1/2 months in, things just weren’t working the way they should.  If we were really being honest with each other and ourselves, the same thing could’ve been said a little earlier.  1 1/2 months in, it wasn’t really working…enough.

We looked great on paper; considering the other person to be attractive, intelligent, intriguing, funny, promising.  A 14 year difference and “jungle fever” only made things more interesting.  (The latter not being a real issue but an issue just the same at times when I made it one.)

As much as I’d like to list out all of our problems and why I knew this wasn’t going to work and pat myself on the back for knowing ahead of time but trying, I just can’t.  Sure, there were things that made me raise an eyebrow or made him take a step back.  We liked different things.  When I was ready to slow down, he was ready to speed up.  Our life experiences were drastically different.  (Shit, he actually remembered the 80s! 🙂 )  His confidence can come off smug or arrogant.  My unease can come off defensive, or, worse, indifferent.  But in the end, I’d say it truly came down to one big thing that when ignored, made all of the small things eventually blow up in our faces.

This was the first “real” relationship I’ve had in quite some time, 8 years or so; of relationships altogether, nearly 4.  I don’t have a good explanation for such extreme breaks.  My feelings have been hurt.  I may have even been burned in the past.  But I can’t say that my heart was broken or that I was bitter.  Instead, I found some undue comfort in preventing those things.  Much like other actions generally tied to relationships, abstinence is the only true way to prevent…

For all intensive purposes, I would say this man is a good (not perfect, but good) man and, equally important, could have been good for me.  Unfortunately, I just wasn’t able to do what should come naturally.  Better said, I wouldn’t allow myself to do what did.

For whatever reason, I told myself not to get too excited.  I guess I thought if I kept my reactions calm and under control, I’d be able to prevent going overboard.  I went so far as to downplay my happiness and appreciation around friends, choosing to refer to him by a less than flattering but endearing nickname rather than simply using his name, avoiding the term boyfriend, trying so hard to not appear invested and vulnerable.  Unfortunately, that did not work for him and therefore we did not work.  I was actually dating a man who wanted to know what I was feeling and thinking about us.  He was the first one to speak of an us and call me his girlfriend.  I should have been ecstatic.

This is a longer post.  Depending on your reading speed, you might be in need of another song to get you through the second half.  Sade’s “Soldier of Love”

I was expecting games and slow, if at all, growth.  He offered (and similarly expected) straight honesty and a clear path to deeper.  Once I realized that he was being honest, not playing any games, I truly froze up.  I didnt’ know what to do.  It’s easy to dismiss and/or play along with something fake.  You just tell yourself you’re having a good time, going with the flow, intentionally not getting too invested, not even allowing yourself to daydream things’ll turn into something else.  Realizing someone you genuinely like may actually genuinely like you too should be exciting.  For me, however, it was terrifying and I, unfortunately and unintentionally, shut down.  Externally,  I was there, agreeing, participating, but not really giving.

I wanted to give.  Everything in me wanted to enjoy being happy and do what I could to try to make him as happy.  We both deserved that much.  And to be fair, I did give but it was only the things I’m generally comfortable giving.  I gave my time, my attention, my affection.  I didn’t give the things he went so far as to ask for; my emotions, concerns, fears, joys.

Every time I started to say or do something risky, I caught myself.  There weren’t any voices screaming in my head or flashbacks of horrible experiences.  I just didn’t trust myself, didn’t know how or where to start.  So I never did.  I was so worried what other people would think and whether my efforts/feelings would be understood or enough for him.  Unfortunately, instead of appearing scared, I simply appeared cold.  I cared way more than I let on and nobody understood that until I was upset it was lost.  I did a great job of protecting myself.  (Go me!)  In a sad way, I think I knew not trying would end it but at least I’d play some part in the decision; feeling  some sense of control albeit not positive.

While I wish I could have stepped up and done whatever my head/heart/gut wanted to do in the moment in this situation instead of overthinking and running, I still don’t really have any regrets.  I WILL be that woman eventually, maybe even as soon as next time.  I have the capacity.  I just didn’t have the confidence.  And I think it took me experiencing something that could have been real, could have been something, and essentially ruining it to get it.  His inability, or better unwillingness, to stick around hoping anymore very well might’ve been the swift kick in the ass I needed to wake up.

Despite our failure as a couple, I’m very happy to have considered this man a part of my life.  I don’t know if we’ll be friends but hope we’ll at least be friendly.  If I had a regret, it would be that he won’t be able to reap the benefits of his frustrations with me.  I’ve given more to less deserving people.  (Sad commentary, I know.)  Well…actually… I probably haven’t.  They just got more of the same…

I think I needed a  buffer to get me back into the mindset of dating to do more than satisfy a curiosity or a feeling of loneliness.  I needed something shallow for the sake of shallow but fun, a test run if you will, to get me ready for something potentially real.  Too bad this opportunity, this man didn’t come along after that buffer, rather than partially serving as it.  Things might’ve been different.  We still might not have worked out but it would’ve been because of something that happened between us, rather than something everyone from my mother to bandmate recognize to just be a part of who I am (right now), an onion if you will.  (Please note the Shrek reference.)
But he didn’t come along later, things aren’t different and you know, that’s just fine.  I’m just fine either way.

(Although, I must say, it’s a little frustrating not to be able to say something promising failed because it wasn’t meant to be, rather than being able to narrow it down to your inability to accept being happy as a realistic option.  A really wordy way to say we might’ve still failed but I wish I hadn’t have given myself an easy out.)

Ending the mourning process,

Jo’van

March 27, 2010
Categories: Romantic Cynic (Love And Lookalikes), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: 2 Comments

Shades of Understanding: John Mayer’s White Supremacist Dick

He’s douche-baggiest single to date….

John Mayer has been in the news lately.  Instead of dating another tabloid-worthy Hollywood blonde, he’s speaking with PlayBoy and performing an ill-advised brain dump.  Now, I’m a John Mayer fan.  I know that he comes off as, and probably is, a royal douche bag.  But what can I say?  I like his music.  Much like Robin Thicke, he’s a guilty pleasure I feel no need to defend.  I’ll just politely change the music if someone doesn’t care to listen to him whine in my car.

Unfortunately, John Mayer is one of the many recent celebrities who believe and, more importantly, who reporters and fans believe should be heard.  Everyone has an opinion, famous or not.  With the ever-expanding array of access points to celebrities, we learn more than we may need to about our favorite pop stars, rappers, actors and athletes.  Some know how to just be good at what they do without sharing the details of their personal lives (for example Beyonce).  While others attempt to revive dead careers by allowing us access to EVERYTHING (for example Bret Michaels).  Either way, as the fans/consumers, we have to decide just how much we care.  John Mayer’s latest interview reminds me why it’s best to just appreciate the music.  I don’t need to necessarily appreciate the person.

The only reason I paid any attention to this interview was all of the drama following it.  Aside from sharing unsavory details about his obsessions with porn and masturbating, interesting comments about exes and unnecessarily using the N-word to justify a hood pass, John Mayer is apparently not interested in sleeping with black women.  Shocking, I know!  But who cares?   As a black woman, I’m not all that interested in sleeping with him either.  My heart’s not broken.

PlayBoy: Do black women throw themselves at you? 

Mayer: I don’t think I open myself to it. My dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock. I’m going to start dating separately from my dick.

I’m not trying to downplay the possible connotations.  Maybe John is a racist.  Maybe he considers his overworked dick too good for a little chocolate.  While eliminating the possibility of a fruitful relationship with a “sista” is unfortunate, it’s not innately wrong.  As long as John sees no problem with other people doing it, he’s completely entitled to his preferences.  If I were to say I prefer black men over white, does that make me a racist or just aware of my preferences?  Somehow I feel Usher wouldn’t be shunned for saying he prefers to date black women…

When probed by the reporter, John admits that he has found some black women attractive.

Mayer: I always thought Holly Robinson Peete was gorgeous. Every white dude loved Hilary from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. And Kerry Washington. She’s superhot, and she’s also white-girl crazy. Kerry Washington would break your heart like a white girl. Just all of a sudden she’d be like, “Yeah, I sucked his dick. Whatever.” And you’d be like, “What? We weren’t talking about that.” That’s what “Heartbreak Warfare” is all about, when a girl uses jealousy as a tactic.

Funny.  I don’t know if that statement is more offensive to black women or white women.  I wonder how he thinks a black woman breaks your heart.  And are all white women manipulative bitches?  Oh John, it may not be that chocolate’s your problem.  You just might like people as immature as you are.

When this interview came out and all of the SHOCKED responses started, I thought there had to be more to this story.  I don’t regularly read PlayBoy articles so I had to look it up.  After reading the entire article, I was more bored and annoyed than offended or outraged.  I understand why these shocked responses about racial comments came out.  Aside from describing a generally goodie two-shoes ex as being sexual napalm, there really wasn’t anything else all that interesting to mention.  John Mayer seems like an intelligent person who attempts to balance sounding important and indifferent.  Somehow he generally manages to just sound like a douche.

What I found more interesting was his description of “being black.”  As a black person, I don’t know if I can describe being black.  Sure, I could spout out historical facts and statistics, but I really feel it’s about experiences related to those facts and stats.  Thank goodness John Mayer could explain it to me.

Mayer: What is being black? It’s making the most of your life, not taking a single moment for granted. Taking something that’s seen as a struggle and making it work for you, or you’ll die inside. Not to say that my struggle is like the collective struggle of black America. But maybe my struggle is similar to one black dude’s.

I’m happy you realize your struggles aren’t necessarily equivalent to ours, John.  Very happy.  Now tell me about being Latino or Asian…

Let me state for the record, “I don’t understand why any man would not be attracted to black women.”  We come in all shapes and sizes, features and attributes.  It’s a pity any man would deny himself the love a good black woman but if that’s what he so chooses to do, the fault is on him.  There are plenty of men, black, white and other, who can appreciate our beauty.  Why should we care about John Mayer’s lose?

(Plus, he’s just young and naive.  Everyone knows black women age exceptionally well.  For the most part, our skin stays taut.  Fewer wrinkles, fewer apparent birthdays.  Black don’t crack, baby.  AND we don’t have to tan.  This beautiful bronzed look is year-round, free and natural.  🙂 )

Not feeliing slighted by John Mayer in the least,

Jo’van

March 7, 2010
Categories: Shades of Understanding (Race Relations), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

The World…As I See It: Sometimes I Just Need a Hug

Monica knew what I’m going through.  We just want/need different responses.

Today is just one of those days (or in the words of Monica “one of dem days”).  I feel emotionally and physically drained, stressed about work and my home situation, missing the support system I used to rely so heavily upon but ignore and all I want to do is go to sleep.  It doesn’t help that Eve is here for her monthly visit.  In addition to what I would call normal daily stressors, Eve shortens my attention span, level of patience and ability to react appropriately to small annoyances.  In short, I’m PMSing and it’s not all that fun.

According to WomensHealth.gov, PMS can include a number of physical and emotional issues.  In my case, acne, feeling tired, upset stomach, backache, muscle pain, trouble concentrating or remembering, tension, irritability, mood swings and anxiety or depression.  A.K.A. I’m a mess.  These symptoms start a few days before and generally last throughout.  PMDD is essentially more severe PMS.  If  Iwere to go with the description on the site, I may actually be suffering from that.  But whatever it is, I don’t care for it.

PMS is nothing new.  Most women experience it and most men learn to deal with it.  Everyone’s collection and severity of syptoms are unique but there’s a common trend: We’re not completely ourselves.  Or should I say we’re heightened versions of ourselves.  For whatever reason, I take that personally.  I am angry every month that I’m angry every month.  Rather than be naive enough to ask why or really blame Eve, I am naive enough to believe I can control it.  They are afterall my body, my brain, my emotions.  I’ll excuse myself the physical limitations.  The human body can only take so much.  Debilitating cramps at points worthy of muscle relaxers and codeine are understandable.  Pop a couple Aleve, fire up the heating pad and succumb to the fetal position.  But overly emotional and not completely in control?  Not my cup of tea.

I feel I should be able to maintain my general even keel when things are going on inside my body.  I definitely have bitchy tendencies.  But for the most part, I can control it.  Chemical changes are just changes.  This is my body dammit.  I want to be in control.  But I’m obviously not.  Eve comes and I lose my ability to function gracefully.  Things that aren’t a big deal send me off the deep end, comments that wouldn’t phase me seem like personal insults and I lose the general constraints on my mouth.  Or should I say the response processing delay is completely removed.  There is no filter…with my friends and family.  (For the most part, I can keep it together around those responsible for my paycheck.)

The most distressing symptom, however, is the unhappiness.  I don’t feel depressed but I also don’t care to really do much or be around that many people (according to the commercials those are the symptoms…).  I bounce back to normal as soon it’s over but I can’t imagine I’m easy to deal with during.  I either don’t want to be around you or run the risk of jumping down your throat.  At this time, my ideal day would include spending most of it in bed with good movies, good books, good ice cream, some carb loaded food like pasta or potatoes, snuggling with my puppy and maybe a patient, understanding man.  If he’s around, I need him to stay quiet and hold me.  Sometimes I just need a hug.

As much as I like to be in control and not rely on another person, if I’m comfortable enough to be around you when I’m not completely comfortable with myself, I need you to tread lightly.  My guards go up quickly and may impale you.  I probably don’t mean what I say but I’ll probably say it with a vengeance and not be all that willing to back down soon after.  I understand why people wouldn’t want to be around me these 3-7 days.  It’s easy to pity the physical discomfort.  The emotional rollercoaster, not so much.

If/when you hear me mention Eve, run away or just give me hug.  It won’t fix anything but it sure makes me feel better.  Plus, it’s harder for me to be mean to you if you’re just being sweet.  Sometimes words aren’t enough.  Even bitches need reassurance.

Crawling toward a pillow,

Jo’van

March 4, 2010
Categories: The World...As I See It (Everything Else), Whole Truth, The . Tags: , , , , , , , , . Author: tjovand . Comments: Leave a comment

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