The Precipice

I met this musician a couple of weeks ago, I've seen him preform three times. His gift is so gorgeous and has such depth. When I first approached him to tell him how much I appreciated it, I knew instantly that he couldn't yet fathom how powerful and gifted he was. But it's great to see people on the precipice you know? There is something about that ledge before you just swim in who you were born to be that just amazes and delights me. WIthout even knowing him I know the coming months are going to be one of ledge balancing for him. But I didn't wanna come off like a weirdo, so I didn't say anything. haha.

Last night he said in conversation "I don't know you know. I just don't know where I'm going." and as he said it, I don't think he even believed it. When you have gifts like that, you know. You try to deny it for a long time because of what those gifts mean. But they are such a piece of your fabric.

I met this anthropologist that is in the same place. His gifts are so there for everyone to see. But I could tell he has this "Why was I given these pieces, now what do I do with them?" There is such crippling doubt there. And I can tell he's in the middle of a soul search, I wish I could say "yo, its gonna be okay. You have been chosen. Scary but doable." But really, people don't need that, cause at base. You know. I mean if someone else can see you and know, you know.

People are so beautiful.

My Tia gave me a sarape once. It has beautiful colors in it. When you take your time and really look at it, I mean really look, those colors are amazing in there vibrance. They have almost a glitter to them. When put together, they are a comfort for me and a couple of generations of women before me. I think it's this thing you could probably skip over, but it's art is art.

I think people are just like that. Just brilliant and vibrant but if you aren't really watching. You could miss it. That moment when the folds of their colors open up and put the light in them that they were meant to bless the world with.

The tough part is accepting that about yourself right? I mean who am I? And that humility is a blessing and curse at the same time. Almost like that "Who let me sneak in and do this? Obviously I came under the radar." And when you are at the precipice, its scary, because you just start to understand your purpose, and purpose is great and hella freaky.

But damn, that ledge is like staring into art before it gets created. To all the people that I see at that ledge, I just honor your journey. Light the world up mofo's cause it needs it. It needs you.

Acting Like I'm 21 on Easter Weekend

So I just got home from my Friday evening. My body is totally wiped. I have to rally though, I got stuff to do and you can't ignore a sunny day in San Francisco, its a sin and being Easter Sunday. Can't be sinnin.

Every once in awhile, I think you need a weekend where you just kinda while out and have fun. I can't say I'm a major partier, I love things that are fun and low-key (very SF). Well, thats not totally true, I go through phases. But I got my dance on fierce this weekend, =c) And it was really good times. My liver will be in recovery for a second, but what can you do.

I gotta tell you, I love being a girl. Everything about it is so appealing to me. I love dressin up, I love dancin around, and as independent as my ass is, if I'm honest with myself, I love all the stereotypical girly things. At the same time, I really enjoy being the kind of girl that will take one outfit and rework it three ways, not make a fuss about it and keep charging through and having fun. I know I have a strong uber-feminine presence and I love the hell out of it.

As any one of my overthought ramblings I did tons of thinking with Andra this weekend. Thank God for growing man. I love the place I'm in. My heart aches sometimes for the girl I used to be. But not aches in a feel sorry for her way, more like a "it's okay boo boo, it gets better" kinda way. It's crazy to comprehend how blind you are to yourself sometimes. All the great pieces just seem to be laid to the weigh side. It took me 25 years to acknowledge myself as a pretty girl. That's 25 years of wanting to rework my face and body into someone else's version of beautiful. It is obscene how tiring that is. That doesn't mean I don't wanna keep working on myself physically, I think out of respect to myself, I want to do that. But to even just marginally let go of some of that baggage is like breathing in a different way.

Thank God that I get to dip back to having fun the way I did in less "preoccupied" times, but can still have the heart and knowledge that I grew into.

Good Easy Days

So my night was great and so was my day. They deserve homage sometimes, those really good days.

Woke up on Andra's couch
Saw the Devil Wears Prada and quoted lines with Andra
Got up and went to Cafe Lo Cubano
Talked about every topic under the sun over a havana chicken sandwich
Drove back to Andra's apartment to get my iPod
Blasted Dez Hope music while Andra drove us to the movies
Went to the mall and tried on perfumes
Watched 300 on IMAX (Thouroughly enjoyed abdominal muscles that were 15 feet high)
Played at the MAC counter with new gay boyfriend Jason who does great makeup
Decided we needed to go out dancing
Drove back, still talking about everything under the sun
Went to Walgreen's so we could buy hygenie supplies (esp toothbrush for me)
Carefuly took a shower making sure not to get my newly makeup'ed face wet
Put on dirty yesterday clothes on newly good smelling body
Had another glass of Bailey's and Milk (as God intended milk to taste)
Danced around Andra's apartment
Now will head to Medjool to enjoy tunes with newly good smelling body in yesterday smelly clothes. haha

I love good days, every once in awhile, they should be recorded for posterity. Hope you had a good one too. =c)

Strong Women

As a woman you create so much of your identity based on the women you have in your life. Everything that you do, everything you are, you get permission for by the women that surround you. Now, don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean that you are sitting there waiting for approval (at least if you're lucky and grounded you aren't). But you are a girl and you have these thoughts that society never gives you permission for. Everything about you and who you are in your assertiveness, your sexuality, and your emotions is created in tandem with the women around you as you all help create each other. I would say that we aren't raised with a sense of easy disclosure. I'm not even sure if this makes sense but its like, there is this sisterhood to womanhood and you realize you aren't a freak when you are around women that show you, "hey, you are totally normal."

I have been blessed with strong women. At all ages I have just had these partners and sisters in my gal pals. I trust the women in my life implicitly. I know they keep my secrets, bring my game up, push my boundaries, call me out, esteem my gifts, and encourage the "fun" me. I have so much inner monologue, the "fun me" part is actually pretty important.

So I write this particular blog entry as an homage to those women. Thank you for showing me that its okay to be me. For having enough security in yourselves and who you are to encourage my growth and not be intimidated by it. For being just as good on your own as you are with men. But mostly, for honoring this sisterhood with your hearts and honesty. Thank you for teaching me and my scars that its okay to be sexy, ballsy, bawdy, independent, dependent, soft, emotional, fierce, scared, scarred, ghetto, classy, smart, silly and at peace. I owe you my life for giving me permission to be myself. And the beautiful thing about you all is that you are always so adamant about showing me that we owe each other nothing but that this is the way it should be. I concur.

Obviously Pretty Girls Part Two

I am not an obviously pretty girl. I may have explained this distinction before but in the event I haven't, an obviously pretty girl is the kind of girl that the world readily, speedily, and many times overtly acknowledges as beautiful. Not in the, wow, she's a full package kinda way. Not in the, she cleans up good, kinda way. Not in the, when you look at her when she talks she's beautiful kinda way. Obviously pretty girls have the body (thin/big boobs/tall or petite), the features, but mostly, they are the women that from a very early age were told over and over how pretty they were. So the muscle they developed there was the one that let them lean on their looks to get what they want. In short its the attitude. They know how to use it to their advantage.

And don't pretend like you haven't met that girl more than a handful of times. Fellas, you in particular seem to fall all over yourselves when you meet her. She can also be the "super cute" girl. So cute you just wanna squeeze her and put her in your pocket. Which is why she, like OP girl, can get away with ANYTHING... at least until you get sick of being dragged around on a leash. That is not to say that an OPG couldn't extend way past this. In fact, most...if not all of them do. But I watch consistently as my sisters in this camp struggle, cause guys have a hard time calling them out on their shit. Mostly because of the validation tied to having them on their arm.

Now before anyone tries to tell me, that this is a low self-esteemy/judgemental/self-effacing/mean thing to say... I'm not saying I'm not pretty. I'm just saying I've never been raised as an OPG. I'm the presence girl. The one that gets prettier as you get to know her because she's got so much in her. Not to say that I'm bad to look at, its just not the muscle I developed to lean on. We all have those muscles I believe. It just depends on where we create it. I think one of the first ones we build as women (and maybe even as men?) is the pretty muscle or the personality muscle.

I would venture to say that obviously pretty girls have many times a tougher time with the issues attached to that particular social sect than the rest of the population. At least I would rather have the issues that are attached with my side of the green grass. I can't imagine being constantly and consistently identified as a sexual object. Which of course, has its roots in many of the things I write about regularly, but I digress.

I feel as a "regular" girl you get the shot to work your way into different arenas. You get to develop your other muscles so much, you have to work harder... for everything. You get to flesh out who you are with the world around you, instead of with the people who can see more to you than the validation your presence provides.

I dissect this only because I've really been looking at the muscles I've developed lately. What they mean and how I could develop the others. Is it an innate attitude do you think or is it a learned behavior from validation in a certain area? I'm curious. Are you born to be that person or do you become her/him? Just a few things to ponder.