One Closes, Four Open

I am less one friend today.

I take full responsibility for my part even though there are still moments when I find myself wondering how it could have happened. I mean, I’m 35. Shouldn’t we stop losing friends at some point? How junior high to say the words, “I’m not her friend anymore.”

All kinds of relationships are at the mercy of personality drifts. Sometimes you find yourselves going in different directions. Sometimes you find yourselves going in the same direction, but with different ideas on how to end up where you both want to be.

I started to feel like I couldn’t trust things told to me and their life choices were incomprehensible. I began to feel like there was a weird competition going on for the attention and friendship of others. The list goes on. But I didn’t confront it. Later, I told a mutual friend that it’s “the stink breath syndrome.” If you have a friend that you don’t want to be around because their breath stinks, you probably won’t speak up. You’re not trying to hurt the person’s feelings. You just want your space. That is how I felt.

I told my Dad I felt awful about judging. How is it being a friend when you pull away because of someone’s life choices? Shouldn’t a real friend just accept people for who they are? My Dad said, “Friends are the perfect people to judge. There’s nothing wrong with saying, ‘I like you, but you lie. I like you, but you steal. I like you, but your hair is fucked up.’ When you say you’re not gonna judge, what you’re really saying is that you’re willing to lie to yourself about who this person really is.”

I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect perfection. But I need to feel like I’m having an honest friendship. I can’t worry about whether or not what my friends are telling me is the truth. If someone admits to stretching the truth and beating the system in other areas of their life, it’s only natural to question what they tell you.

As Maya Angelou says, “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.”

I didn’t listen to the opinions or warnings of others. I didn’t take into account that this person had just ended a friendship with a handful of other people. I told myself that that their experience doesn’t have to be mine.

Later, after a falling out with a mutual friend, she deleted me from Facebook. Something I should have done awhile ago, but we were involved in a project together and I didn’t want to make it “weird” for the others involved. As the smoke clears and war stories are compared, I realize that my instincts were right. Lies were told, even about how things ended, but that’s okay.

I said to my mother, “Hell, maybe I have all the friends I’m meant to have.”

And I have great ones: Sophie, Amy, Mike, Bette, Richard, Tara, David, Tobias and those are just the tangible ones that I can see, touch, call, etc. I’ve met some great “virtual” ones, too.

I will not cut myself off though. To do so would be to deny myself the possibility of new friendships and endeavors.

Because of the generosity of my friend Alegra, I am participating in a beautiful anthology that celebrates motherhood and the written word. Milk and Ink: A Mosaic of Motherhood features many of my writer friends (who also happen to be Moms) as well as some lovely writers/poets I’m just getting to know. All proceeds from the book sales will go to support Mama Hope, a charitable organization doing great work for the women and children of Africa.

Recently, I became more involved in getting this book off the ground (it will be available in November of this year), and in doing so strengthened two budding friendships – Jordan and Tomi (pronounced TOMMY) – and solidified another (Alegra). These three ladies have done an excellent job of editing the wonderful pieces submitted to the anthology and are working tirelessly in getting it ready for print.

I’ve been working with my friend and boss, Kevin Palmer, in rebuilding and revamping the website so that it better serves the needs of Milk and Ink. First, it needs to be a place where we can promote the book, but also promote and support a community of writers. Not just mothers who write, but all writers. Finally, once the book is released, we will be transitioning the spirit of Milk and Ink into an online literary magazine.

I was thrilled and honored to be asked to serve as a co-editor with Alegra, Jordan, and Tomi. We have so many exciting things planned. We’ve spent many days juggling our husbands, jobs, homes, and kids only to dive into a massive email/IM creative session in the evenings – tired, but fueled by an excitement for, and faith in, this project.

It’s sad when things come to an end, but I am overjoyed by this new beginning.

It would really mean a lot to me if you could give Milk and Ink a follow on Twitter.

Also, tell your friends. Once the site is up and running, I’ll be promoting it more and asking for further support.

Auntie Good Pussy

I want to tell you about my real life friends. Tangible people that I see, feel, talk to, love.

About David:

David and I met when I worked at MCI in Alpharetta.

My boss also happened to be my next door neighbor – a gay man we shall call Lawrence. I was Lawrence’s assistant. As a manager Lawrence had a medium-sized staff, but those that reported directly to him had it made. I was one of his direct reports, obviously, and became good friends with two others – Dee (project manager) and Derrick (supervisor). We had the corporate Amex cards, company laptops, the luxury to “work from home,” etc.

A typical lunch break – especially when Lawrence was out of town on business – would last two hours…at least. It was not unusual for me to drive about two minutes to North Point mall, hit up Macy’s for two pairs of shoes, a purse, Old Navy for some jeans, Victoria’s Secret for some new bras, MAC for lip gloss, Bath and Body Works for lotions, and then have the nerve to go eat in a restaurant for 45 minutes. You’d walk past my cubicle at 4pm to find my ass trying on new shoes. I was a hot ass mess.

When Lawrence announced he was hiring a friend of his we (Dee, Derrick, and I) were like, “Hmph, why?” We didn’t want some new guy coming in and fucking up our flow. The new guy was David. The first week or so I was pretty shady to David. And trust me, when Nina throws shade…she throws serious shade. (Don’t ask me why I slipped into third person)

I would do things like take my purse and leave it at my friend Shay’s cubicle (it was closer to the exit) so when lunch time rolled around and David saw me get up to leave my cubicle (his was across from mine) he would think I was going to the bathroom or something and not ask, “What are you doing for lunch?” Or, if I was really crafty I’d grab an empty folder or something so it looked like I was off to a meeting.

I would quickly grab my purse from Shay’s desk and head for the parking lot. Dee would dip out ten minutes later and Derrick five minutes before that. We’d all meet up at some place like The Cheesecake Factory or California Pizza Kitchen and have a good laugh over lunch while sipping on martinis. See, we couldn’t just let anyone in our circle. We didn’t want to lose our cushy jobs because of a snitch.

Then shortly after he started I was out for two weeks to have my tonsils removed. When I returned to the office I was like a lioness – I didn’t want some other bitch moving in on my territory. These were my friends, my co-conspirators. There was only room for one fabulous diva in our circle and I was it. But, while I was gone everyone else got to know David and insisted he was cool. I warmed to him soon after and then we were glued at the hips.

They started calling us Will and Grace. It was not uncommon to hear laughs coming from our cubicles. All day. The worst was when it was really quiet on the floor and all you would hear was us typing away. Clack-click-clack. Then one of us would bust out laughing. Dead giveaway that we’d been IM’ing each other. If Lawrence wanted to meet with David, Dee, or Derrick I would consult their schedules first – you know, in case that day they planned on dipping out early or taking a long lunch. Yeah, I had their backs before my manager’s. Sue me.

David and I would take smoke breaks together. (Yeah, I stopped after I had my tonsils removed) We went on Weight Watchers together though his fine ass didn’t need it. But I appreciated the support. David has a way of being my biggest supporter….

While totally having body issues – I’m so damn tall and curvy and sometimes I love it and other times I hate it because for 24 years of my life I was skinny..downright bony – I said this while watching a Mariah Carey video:

Nina: I want my body to look like that. Like Mariah’s.

David: Bitch, your body does look like that.

Awwww….then there are times…

David: You remind me of Tyra.

Nina: Aww, really?

David: Yeah, you’re both tall and pretty….

Nina: Thanks!

David:…and ghetto.

(My sister had a similiar compliment once but hers ended with, “…and you’re both corny.”)

David puts up with me. Not many people can. He judges me, but in a loving way. You should have seen his face the day I came strutting into work with a khaki skirt that though it fell below the knee clinged to every curve….and a split up the side…each side. The ass and legs were like whoa.  And I had on these shoes…

Then there was the time Dee sewed this long ass weave in for me. I mean, to my ass long. And I was at my cubicle trying not to sit on the damn thing and I just felt someone looking at me. It was David.

David: Bitch, I want you to cut that damn weave.

And don’t even get me started on my faux bags. Especially the Prada ones. He hated them!! (His dog’s name is Prada) One night, two summers ago, we were at my house drinking, eating pizza, and watching Big Brother 6. He glanced at my faux Prada on the coffee table.

David: Does Prada even make a bag like that?

Nina: Snob.

David is the one that came up with the name La-La for Lawrence. Don’t ask me where it came from or why. But we began calling that man La-La behind his back. It was not uncommon for me to get an IM from Dee, Derrick, David, or Shay asking, “What time La-La leaving?”  Cause let me tell you, when La-La was away the mice played. Though I had it a bit harder than the others cause if he left to go home early I couldn’t follow right behind him because he’d see my black ass pulling into my garage. Remember, he lived next door.

So, one day David sends this IM….

What time is La-La leaving?

….to La-La.

Lawrence comes strutting around to our cubicles, “So, you guys call me La-La, huh?” We could have kicked. David’s. ass. He totally redeemed himself by finding a replacement name so perfect, so fucking awesome, it brought tears to our eyes the first time we heard it. Uncle Peaches. Later, Peaches for short.

What time is Peaches leaving?

Then in the summer of 2005 I got laid off. I didn’t care. As a matter of fact, when we were first told that the layoffs were coming I was praying I was on the list. Nice severance package and I’d be done with that damn place? Fine by me. Because of our personal relationship, Peaches told me early though he wasn’t supposed to. By the time the big day had rolled around I’d already taken all my personal shit (The Sims 2, writing projects, pictures, emails, IMs, etc.) off the laptop, cleaned out my desk, and stocked up on office supplies. Don’t judge me.

Where some people came in that day (a Friday) all sad and scared, my ass came strutting in wearing low rise jeans, brown heels, with a cute little brown top and fabulous cleavage, a hot ass weave, nails done, eyebrows fierce. I went to Peaches’ desk.

Peaches: Damn, look at you!

Nina: Can I go first?

I was more than ready to get the fuck up outta there. I had my rental car packed in the parking lot. I got laid off, hopped in my ride, and drove down to Destin, Florida where I read by the hotel pool, shopped, went out to eat, went to the movies, and shook my ass (and weave) in many nightclubs by the beach all weekend.

That’s how I roll, bitches.

(Key to a successful marriage? Ladies, do something like that at least twice a year. I did. Pack your favorite CDs, clothes, and shoes and go shake your ass.)

David was laid off in the next round of lay-offs a few months after me. While I went back to school he went to real estate school. David now sells fabulous houses in Atlanta (not to mention the bad ass house he lives in), drives an awesome car (I want it!), and just lives this fabulous life of vacations, and good friends, and just…a good life.

I missed David. We still talk on the phone and IM, but we don’t see each other as much as we used to. He makes fun of my Myspace “popularity” and is pissed because he’s not in my Top Friends. I tell him that it’s a pain in the ass to try and find his profile amongst 900+ people to put him up there, but Tobias (his boyfriend) is so that should mean something.

You can just imagine how happy I was when David called last night at 7:45pm…

David: Is your house clean?

Nina: Yes.

It wasn’t.

David: ‘Cause I want to come over and watch Big Brother and So You Think You Can Dance and I don’t want to hear any shit about it.

Nina: Come on over!

Donny and I hung out with David and had such a good time.

I always ask him if the cute boys that I want to molest on So You Think You Can Dance are gay. I’m in lust with Danny. As we watched him dance tonight….

David: Nina, even if he was straight would you want a man that could spin around like that?

Nina: Uh, yeah. If he looked like that he could twirl his ass around all he wanted. I’d be like, “Get up on the coffee table, baby.”

Then….

Nina: You always say the boys I like on here are gay.

David: Well, it’s not like I’m one of those gay guys that want all guys to be gay. You just keep picking the ones that happen to be gay…on reality dance shows…that can do pirouettes.

David and Nina on Women

Nina: Pasha (So You Think You Can Dance contestant) is hot.

David: Yeah, but he has that gap.

Nina: I have a gap!  See, my friend Frogger on Myspace said the same thing about his gap – that it had to go, and I told her that I have one and she wrote back, “So do I. It’s hot on women. It means we’re better in bed.”

David: Women get on my nerves with that. Yall always coming up with some shit to make you feel better about yourselves. Like my Aunt talking ’bout because she has hair on her chest that means her pussy is good. Talking ’bout, “Just call me Auntie Good Pussy.

And I damn near pissed myself laughing. There was no way I was not going to title this blog that.

I love David.

More Conversations That Made Me Laugh

Last night I had so many things on my plate, so I almost didn’t answer the phone when I saw an unfamiliar number on the caller ID. I’m glad I did though. It was my sister, Naiemah, who I wrote about in my blog the other day.

Remember I said she was kinda ghetto, but in that lovable, funny, way? Well, here’s why:

Nina: Hello.
Naiemah: Finally!
Nina: Hey girl, what’s up?
Naiemah: You never answer your phone, heifer. The closest I get to seeing you is watching the Tyra Banks Show.

Hmm, that smelled like a compliment and I immediately wondered if she was next going to ask for money.

Naiemah: I have to watch her show to remember what you look like. Except she has that big ole forehead.

Yeah, she’s ’bout to ask for a loan.

Naiemah: And y’all are both real corny.

Nevermind.

I ask her about moving back to Brooklyn. Was she scared? Has it improved? Does it depress her to see people we grew up with living in the same neighborhoods?  I mean, as she was talking to me she was walking her two sons to McDonald’s.  Meanwhile, my bourgie, suburban, snobby, hoity-toity, ass couldn’t imagine strolling down a Brooklyn street that close to sundown.

Naiemah: It’s not so bad. The area has changed a lot. I don’t mind seeing people we grew up with. Sometimes I wish they wouldn’t speak to me, but I don’t mind seeing them.

Nina: Do you have friends?

Naiemah: I got close to two girls in my neighborhood. One I wish I didn’t.

Nina: Why?

Naiemah: We got into it and she tried to jump bad. I almost beat her ass then I remembered I’m pregnant.

I told you.

Eight years ago today I pushed Kali out of my vagina. I spent hours last night coloring and rolling out fondant to make the roses for her birthday cake. It was truly a labor of love. It will take me several more hours tonight to finish making them.

As we got ready for school this morning….

Kali: Eight years ago I was in your belly.
Nina: Yup, then I pushed you out.
Kali: What do you mean?
Nina: I pushed you out.
Kali: Of your belly?
Nina: No, my vagina.

She looks faint.

Kali: What?!
Nina: I thought you knew.
Kali: No, I thought I was in your belly.
Nina: Yes, but I pushed you out of my vagina.
Kali: Why?
Nina: Because that’s the way it works.
Kali: No, I mean why are you telling me this now?

And then she went to school looking totally disgusted.

Funny Conversations That Made Me Laugh

On the phone with Tara:

Tara: You make me laugh.
Nina: Why?
Tara: Because you do stuff that if anyone else did it, it wouldn’t be okay. But if you do it, it’s okay.
Nina: Awww. Is that bad?
Tara: No, not at all. You make me laugh. It’s like you live in your own little world.
Nina: OK, this is starting to sound bad.

In bed with Donny who snores, but swears he doesn’t.  My head is on his chest and he starts snoring lightly.

Nina: Wake up. You’re snoring.
Donny: Huh? I wasn’t cause I wasn’t sleeping.
Nina: You were totally sleeping and snoring.
Donny: Nina, I’m telling you I wasn’t sleeping. I was thinking.
Nina: Thinking about what? Sleeping? Cause your ass was snoring.

Yesterday morning, Donny and I are in the master bathroom and realize that we didn’t have sex the night before as planned.

Donny: You fell asleep on me.
Nina: I did not! You fell asleep on me! However, I was too tired to have sex so I let you stay asleep.
Donny: No, you fell asleep first.

(For the record, I didn’t. I watched 48 Hours Mystery while his ass snored.)

Nina: That doesn’t even sound right because you never had a problem waking me up for sex before. I’m not tryna hear that. You fell asleep first.

Then he starts bitching and moaning about my hair all over the bathroom and me leaving the soap in the tub.

Nina: You know what? I’m gonna fall asleep on your ass for a week if you keep it up.

On the phone with my Mom…

Nina: She’s going to be dead before she’s 40.
Mom: Nina! That’s your cousin.
Nina: That doesn’t make it less true.

The other day I was playing X-Box and Kali was sitting next to me watching.

Kali: I tooted.
Nina: I know, I heard it.

A few seconds passed.

Kali: It stinks.
Nina: I know, I smell it.

Yesterday I was staring at Kali from across the room because 1. she’s damn cute and 2. I’m starting to get small glimpses at what she’s going to look like as a teenager and I’m not happy. Too damn good looking. Without even turning to look at me she says:

Kali: Mommy, I know you’re staring at me.
Nina: Sorry.
Kali: Daddy, I know why Mommy was staring at me.
Donny: Why?
Kali: Because I’m cute.
Nina: Kali!!!
Kali: What? You say it all the time.
Nina: Yes, but it’s okay if other people say you’re good looking. Then you just say thank you. But if you walk around saying you’re good looking it comes off as conceited.
Kali: Well, good thing I don’t know what that means.

IMmoral Support

So I ordered pizza last night cause David and Tobias were coming over. In preparation, I only had like 5pts the whole day and had worked out that morning for an hour. I did really well too, only had three slices and 2 diet cokes w/ lemon.

Now today, David is at work and sends me an IM:

David: Do not eat any of that leftover pizza.
Me: I’m not.

Pause in which I suddenly remember there is pizza to be had and David is undoubtedly wondering if I’m lying.

Me: Even though it is calling my name.
David: Tell that pizza to shut the hell up.

I love my friends.

Part 2

So after spending a week in Tennessee on business my husband was due to come home last Friday.  IM convo between David and I:

David: What you doing?

Nina: About to make the icing for Donny’s welcome home cake.

David: What?  If you baked him a welcome home cake, Ima fuck you up.

Nina: I did.

David: Ok. Ass whippin’ for you.

Nina: Why?

David: First of all, you don’t bake a welcome home cake for someone that’s been gone less than a week.  You just saw him Sunday.  Hell, I just saw him Sunday.  Fuck a welcome home cake, you need to give him some welcome home sex