...welcome to the musings of the flawless amour...

Thursday, March 29, 2012

So, You're Telling Me We Can't Be Friends?

During my daily visit to Clutch Magazine, I ran into an article by Arielle Loren about dating older men.  An interesting piece that made me consider readjusting my "policy" (another post for another day) but what stood out to me about Loren's post was a small tidbit about the meaningful friendships gained from a few of the failed romantic relationships she's had throughout the years.

My best friend and I have talked on a few occasions about what is to become of the friendships we have cultivated (once romantic or strictly platonic male friends alike) over the years once we get into a meaningful, romantic relationship.  Surely, it is not polite to just fade to black on these fellas.  Assuming you would be completely honest with your new honey, he will know that at least one of these men were at some point, someone you were involved with and pray that his insecurities don't sabotage what you're looking to build.

How does one successfully manage a serious boyfriend and male friends who may genuinely have no ulterior motives?  For my senior project I wrote an article on whether or not I believed men and women could be strictly friends (my answer is yes--with a small explanation). I stated how communication and honesty play a huge part in these kind of arrangements and I still think the same applies here.

I have been accused of being involved with a male friend a few times when there was nothing going on at all.  Not to say that an interest may not have been shown initially... Our friendship meant more to us than a romantic relationship.  When I tried to assure that there was nothing to worry about, insecurities took over and things I assumed to be good were over.  The friend(s) I was accused of being with still remains, through it all, never changing, hence them still in my life.

Now, don't think I'm solely accusing men of doing this because ladies do it too.  Hell, I have assumed (never sabotaged) and sometimes even asked to what extent did this friendship go.  Some times, I was assured that my relationship was not in jeopardy.  Other times, I was skeptical only to be proven right.  It happens.

What are your views on opposite sex friendships outside of the relationship?  Have you ever experienced this?  Were you on the receiving/giving end?  Talk to me!

Sunday, March 25, 2012

F.E.A.R. = False Evidence Appearing Real

On the way home from church today, I passed a billboard on I-294 that read,

"Do one thing a day that scares you."  

It definitely held my attention long after we head merged onto the Dan Ryan expressway as I was caught up in how safely I have lived my life up to this point.  In my mind, there are so many things that I want to do...things that I plan to do but a lot of it, I stop myself out of fear; fear of what people may think.  Fear of failing.  Fear of looking a damn fool.  But what kind of life is that?

Now, that billboard didn't spark in me a strong desire to go bungee jumping off the Grand Canyon or anything as intense as that but it did inspire me to start living the life I sit and daydream about on a daily basis.  I would hate to look up one day and I haven't accomplished one noteworthy thing in my entire life.  How depressing?

In the coming months, I plan to keep a log of what I've done that day that I once thought scary (at least that's what I'd want to do.  It sounds ideal but first, I must comprise a list to work from and go from there).

What about you?  What scares you?  Are you willing to step outside of your comfort zone in order to live?  Talk to me.

Saturday, March 3, 2012


In my quest to re-ignite my love for reading (books/novels) I came across one by Rebecca Walker in either Ebony or Essence magazine.  They were highlighting her latest work, which is a compilation of essays by esteemed writers, professors, etc. in which they tell a story of what they feel personifies 'black cool'.  

I'm not completely sure what it was that drew me to the book other than the words on the cover.  Reading the description piqued my interest and before I knew it, there was a confirmation email from Amazon stating that my book was on the way.  Since it's arrival, I have had a hard time putting it down and when I am forced to (because of having to service a customer at work or something like that), I would rather be reading.

Black Cool: One Thousand Streams of Blackness is 153 pages of thought-provoking viewpoints of what it means to be black and cool.  From our "Audacity" (written by dream hampton) to our "Swagger" (written by Dawoud Bey) to our "Reserve" (written by Helena Andrews), we are allowed to get lost in the greatness that it is to be black today.  I am proud to be black and can honestly say that I have never wanted to be of any other ethnicity.  I have always admired our versatility, our beauty and just how cool we were and are (word to the Harlem Renaissance).

One essay, "Hunger" by Veronica Chambers, really reached out to me.  In the seven pages of her essay, she recounted her days in college studying the Harlem Renaissance (my favorite era by far) and the social parties of A'Lelia Bundles (daughter of Madame C.J. Walker).

I'm sure everyone is aware of soul food and what it means to the African American community.  All the love and happiness that comes with the preparation of the food.  The fellowship with loved ones coupled with a myriad of libation.  Just being in the atmosphere sparks such a feeling of love and admiration for the people around that it makes it hard to want to leave (at least for me).

I experienced that familial feeling last night at a birthday get together for my Z Baby (Zainab).  I was brought in to the circle of young, black, up & coming professionals a few years ago by my best friend, Rasheedat.  Anytime there is a function that I can make, I'm there because with them is great fun and endless laughs.  Last night was no different.  As I looked around the room I couldn't help but smile and marvel at how grown up we are all becoming.  It was like a scene out of a black romantic comedy or something.

Zainab stood at the stove, dancing to The Throne's "N*ggas In Paris" while preparing a tomato paste alfredo.  Brittney was right behind her, focused on her task of chopping up garlic cloves and onions to add to the mostaccioli sauce.  iTunes was doing a great job at mixing in some of our favorite songs while the rest of us mingled, catching up and discussing our lives, dancing and drinking.

I used to think dinner parties were pretentious, reserved only for the bourgeois upper echelon but it wasn't that at all.  The setting was chill.  Outcome, memorable.  Definitely one of my many memories to come of 2012.  I anticipate the day I can host my own dinner party in my Brooklyn brownstone, having these same people enjoy in my company.

As we were riding through the streets of Hyde Park, I realized that this is the feeling I've been missing and one that I want to have forever.  A life filled with genuine people of kindred spirits.  I am slowly but surely learning to appreciate the space in which God has me.  He is affording me this extra time at home to help mold me for life once I leave the nest for good.