A Cancerian Expelling New Job Stress at Four AM…With Much Success, I Might Add.

A Cancerian Expelling New Job Stress at Four AM…With Much Success, I Might Add..

A Cancerian Expelling New Job Stress at Four AM…With Much Success, I Might Add.

  

    I don’t always know what to expect with a new job, especially when people discover that I’m a lesbian. Not that I’m closeted but because I appear straight to most straight people.  Somehow, my co-workers often react to me as if I’ve lied to them in some way. I know this because when I meet people without my girlfriend, they seem to like me.  After they began to notice that the woman with me all of the time is my partner and not my bestie, the air in the room gets a little chillier.

     Sometimes I wonder if it’s better just to announce to the world, well future employers, that I’m a big ol’ lesbo.  I’ve heard so many non-feminine appearing people put people like me into a box. We have some sort of ‘femme privilege’, apparently.  Not really, I say.

    Other times I wonder if people simply wish that I would just be closeted. They want to like me. They want me to feel comfortable. If only I kept my business to myself, I could be happy in their midst. But, why should I hide away my family as if we’re guilty? Everyone else brings their children to school or has their husband pick them up.  I am a vital member of this society and a damn good citizen. It’s my right to live my life the way I choose.

     Well, maybe this is the price one pays to live a life out loud. It’s a small one, in my opinion. So what if people have their issues? That’s their baggage.  I just needed to write all of this down to purge that negative energy from my system.  I am determined to be successful at this job. I love what I do.  It’s time to put that active happiness energy to work…and get up to make breakfast for my awesome family.

Between a rock and a Hard Place: The Trials and Tribulations of an Upwardly Mobile Black Woman.

It’s about 9:00 o’clock pm on the night of my first day as a public school teacher…except the school cancelled the position. For some reason, one that was only slightly explained to me, I no longer have a job. Not because I’ve done anything wrong, but  I just happened to be last hired, first fired. Wow. That blows.

I’ve been a woman for a long time but getting news like this on a day like today, it’s enough to make a girl jump in front of a bus.  What’s the problem? Is it me? I promise that I really try my hardest to do my best all of the time. That’s what our mothers taught us right? We have to be the brightest and the happiest and the most efficient all of the time so that no one mistakes us for angry or mean or lazy. Black girl problems.

The loss of this job most likely isn’t racially motivated. It’s just that I can only see it through my two black eyes. Eyes dotted by this knew punch to the face. Wow. Mere days away from the first day of school and I’m back to square one.

Now this all happened this morning so I have been a wreck all day. I left the school and came home to think, strategize and get back on the job search merry go round. I called unemployment. I called my folks in high places.  I tried calling my mom but she wasn’t home and my best friend didn’t pick up so I didn’t really get a chance to decompress. My girlfriend’s been great but…I just feel kind of like a failure right now so, yeah.

Money. Money. Money. We all need it but for some us the relationship has been so rocky! At times like this, I can’t stop thinking. My mind spins on its own crazy axis and I feel as if I’m going insane. I believe in The American Dream. I’ve been trying to pull myself up by my bootstraps. I vote and pay taxes. Why can’t I find my piece of the pie? Let me off this ride, sir. I want to be free of this crazy cycle of fighting for a job over and over.  I need a vacation from this job hunt!

So, what’s girl to do? I’ve cried. I’ve cursed. I’ve felt sorry for myself. I’ve applied for fifteen jobs and called my re-employment specialist. I’ve done everything I possibly can so, why do I feel so useless?

I start my 21 day meditation journey tonight.  It’s to expand my happiness.

I sure could use some of that right now.

It’s Like a Bad Date That Could’ve Been Better…

It’s Like a Bad Date That Could’ve Been Better….

It’s Like a Bad Date That Could’ve Been Better…

                I really want to love Tyler Perry movies. I do. I love that we have a brother in Hollywood, well…actually,  Atlanta, making moves and giving a lot of our favorite stars a lot of work. I really, really love Tyler Perry the man…but he’s gotta stop making movies for black women.

                I would even go so far as to say he should stop writing movies for women. Tyler Perry’s latest work, The Single Mom’s Club, could’ve been so much better. He had really, really good actresses in the lead parts. Hat’s off to Nia Long, Wendi McLendon-Covey, Zulay Henao, Cocoa Brown and Amy Smart for doing the best they could with such a horrendous script.  I wanted to feel something except anger and frustration with their characters. Each one of the parts was a canned formula that played on all of the worst stereotypes of black women but two were painted white and one was latina. Let’s see there’s a Mammy, a Sapphire, Goldigger, Jezebel and the all suffering yet saintly Madonna. See why it’s so frustrating? These women have been reduced to nothing but air. I love the actresses but their parts were terrible. 

                Shamefully, I now must skip all of the male characters because they pretty much are just there to embellish the flaws of the females. Tyler Perry, of course, takes the best male role for himself and, of course, he is the romantic interest of the Madonna character, played by Nia Long.  It’s almost physically painful to watch him try to pull off this part. What can I say? His wig was bad. His acting was bad. That surprise kiss he gave to Nia Long was really, really bad.  I don’t know. Without coming off as catty, I just wish someone else had played the part. Just like I wished someone else had played the lead in Good Deeds. Great cast, good story but …his ego ruined it. I wanted to cry.

                This is my suggestion.  It would be awesome if he hired a team of innovative and exciting screenwriters, maybe even have a contest open to the public like a contest or something to find them, to write ten new screenplays. They would vote to produce the top three and BOOM.  New material that women and men want to see on the big screen and it’ll be something everyone can enjoy.

                I mean, all jokes aside, we love the fact that Tyler Perry makes movies and gives good people, good jobs. But wouldn’t it be nice to see a good movie come from his company? Black people want something that we don’t watch due to some sense of warped black guilt. Heck, isn’t that what everyone wants from a movie, to enjoy it?

                I want the next date with this movie maker to go well. I fully expect to walk into a theater, buy my ticket to the next Tyler Perry film and walk out satisfied. If not, I will end our relationship.

On the spot.