no good can come of this

I stayed home today. It been awhile since I stayed home all day and I forgot that I have to stay away from the kitchen


breakfast 9.am- roast bake and melted cheese, 2 glasses of apple juice and a glass of water - i ate the ice

lunch 12.19pm- potato salad with roast chicken and callaloo and a piece of the pig tail, 1 glass of apple juice (the box is getting lighter so) 2 glasses of water. I again ate the ice in the glass

snack 3.07pm - 1/4 of a medium size watermelon which was very sweet
3. 38pm- 2 small pack of Zoomers because eating the watermelon felt too healthy and I needed something salty.

4.34pm - another plate of potato salad callaloo and KFC centre breast (that had been in the fridge for a coupl days) - one glass of water. I walk into the kitchen and then decide to finish the box and put a new one the fridge to cool.

7.42pm dinner/supper grilled roast bake with lemon vingarette and the other piece of KFC centre breast

Now its 8.01pm and am wondering if I should have some more of the watermelon in the fridge.
I'm not sure its safe for me to be in TV room. Its too close to the kitchen

Lets get serious for a moment

A dear friend of mine and his on and off again life partner are here a back home for a little vaca. Its good to see old friends again they make you laugh and depending how close you are you can degrade and scandalize each others significant others with stories of childhood foibles and back fired pranks. This time around though we parted ways as less than friends. No I got over not being told about their committment ceremony because I got all the wonderful details and pictures. And truly I am happy for him because I think he's turning a new leaf in his life ... blah blah blah - all that good stuff.

What caused our little tiff was the announcement that they were adopting a child. My somewhat homophobic sweetheart asked
"so are you going to hire a live in nanny?"
the life partner responded no as he plans to stop working for a while.
I saw my sweetheart give me that slight twitch in his left cheek which means "ARE YOU SERIOUS!"
Without bringing up the conversational details his arguement was simply considering these 2 characters, their lifestlye (and by lifestyle I mean not a homosexual one, but rather and on again off again romance lived out in an exclusively and flambouyantly gay social circles) and our black Caribbean/Afro-American culture they should have female in this child's life to present another side of life.

Now had this been a on again- off hetero couple trying to have a child the general public would raise eye brows and try to intervene with words of wisdom like "don't you 2 think you should wait till you all settle down". But my friend took offence because he assumed me and my sweetheart's basis was an anti-homosexual one. I was sorta hurt seeing that I know this guy for years and I thought he knew me better but the old "you a christian so you suppose to think a certain way" card was played.
All things aside this is my worry. That in general children are being brought up with out their villages and the clear gender roles. Now when I say village I mean in this case, this will be a child living exclusively in a gay, flambouyant and proud community with few female figures to emulate. I think children need examples of every sex and gender in their life that are healthy and balanced, not just gay and or straight. Single parents especially single mothers who insist on no provide their children with a consistant male role model (even if it an uncle or grandfather) depriving their children from having the experience of understanding how men and women relate to each in a familial setting are only perpetuating gender issues like domestic abuse and other unhealthy relational issues. Same sex parents should always ensure that children have role models of the other sex ...especially if that child is of the other sex. IT'S ABOUT BALANCE PEOPLE!!!
Additionally WHO THE HELL APODTS A CHILD 6 MONTHS AFTER THEY ARE MARRIED WHEN 6 MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING THEY WERE NOTSPEAKING TO EACH OTHER AND HAD SEPARATED?

and when questioned as to why now, there was clearly an advocate for 'the child now' and one who wasn't behind the scheme all the way.

I'm worried to say the least. If this does happen then that will be just another socio-sexually confused picney for the world to fix.

Recently I have had a number of things that just pissed me off. So rather that writting several long entries I decided to do a bash list.

1. I hate when married people judge you for not being married. They see you single or in relationship and expect you should be aiming for marriage. They look at you as if seeing ahorse that doesn't want to be a unicorn. I am fine being a horse. Don't try to make me believe I want to be a unicorn because when and if I want to be one I will organise for myself when am good and ready and STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!!

2. I hate bad pick uplines. Exhibit A, as excuted - "Baby, I would fuck you even if you had a yeast infection." ....(OMG!! I won't fuck you is you paid me $1000.00 per sec and was contractually obligated not to tell another living soul.

3. I hate the fact people my age and stage seem to have very dumb partying practices. I see no reason why i should get at a party at 1.30am and be expected to patry till 5. I have a job and responsibilities. I don't drink or smoke and I really see no point to getting dressed in the middle of the night and then sleep wining till the sun comes up.

4. I hate people who drive slowly on narrow one lane roads on cell phones.

5. I hate the fact that now I think about life in things I could possibly make a blog out of.

6.I hate having to be nice to older people when you would just rather run and leave them.

7. I hate just when I want to write a blog or download music or open mail my internet connection goes bad.

8. I hate being in meetings with people who bluff there way through knowing what they should, and lie to cover their asses.

That's all the hate I have left in me today till the world disappoints me again.

whats my age again?

Have you ever had a weekend that made you wonder exactly how old you were? And at the moment am still not sure.

I started my weekend on friday morning where I had to wake up unnaturally early for my age to be involved in a work thing. - That made me feel at least like a mature 27.
I didn't mind being a mature 27 because really thats how I feel on any given day.

But some where around 6.30pm I started feeling like a 16 year old with image issues, as I vomitted the all of the contents of my stomach and maybe even some from my small intestines into 3 vomit bags. This was all while my co workers played a games of cards or themselves tried to resist from being putrid fountain of food.

I sat there so totally unsure of what exactly to do that I simply became oblivious to them and tried as much as possible to vomit with as much grace and lady-like dignity that one can have after already embarassing oneself. Mind you, had it been a drunken vomitting situation I would not ahve worried because in fact they would have already known that I am a drunkard and would have expected that.

Later that day, around 12.30 with the work retreat (did I mention it was a retreat, both you and I found out about the same time in the scheme of things cause it was only after lunch it was called a retreat as opposed to an opportunity for people for work together and like each other to force the people for don't particularly what to have much to do with them to be in a public place with the formerly mentioned group) i was forced to sit and watch co workers have lunch while still feeling very queasy. That made me feel like a cute but selfish 5 year old who wanted to have her way because the beach was 10 foot steps away and I truly prefer to try to drown that have much conversation with my boss and her mignions.

After haing my boss speak to me while on the beach like I was a 9 year old, I was quite sure that I would settle into a child's predisposition for the rest of the day. I essentially did but on the way back I got a little older and become a jaded and anti-social 14 year old when I decided let try for at least a social attached 15 when I began to mingle.

But by the end of the night after arrive on my island and meeting up with my sweetheart I had become a 32 year wife, nagging husband to spent more time with her. This is uncharacteristice of me but was strikingly because I decided that I was planning to be self centred 20 year demanded her patterns time and he had other plans.

The weekend continued and the ages continued across the weekend. I particularly liked the transition from the 40 something post-menopausal sex fiend to the 50 something year old battle axe realising that may be the 'youth & beautiful' party scene is no longer for her.

On sunday that aged up swing was made youthful with the guilt I began to feel for being irresponsible; very early 20's re: I realise I can't be a teenager forever I am trying to grow up but I don't want to.
So today is Monday and I got up late showered made a few phone calls to the office, got to school for a class that I forgot my lecturer already had on Saturday, delivered some marked papers to a couple of my tutees (new word I learnt), and now planning to run into the city to get my hair done.


Things are once again right with the world. I am not swinging between ages, am just not sure how old I really am.

a very long 10 minutes

I finished the gym, I picked my sweetheart got home and was then called back out to go to a meeting. I dashed in the shower jumped out, got dressed and was organising my papers. My sweetheart, was sitting, waiting, reading a paper and I was almost out the door. All of that happened in 40 minutes of my life that past so quickly it could be called insignificant. The next 10 minutes however, brought my life to a standstill in ways that only quantum physicists can articulate. I lifted my head and looked toward the front door and in walks my godmother. Family tends to slow me down in general; the questions about your life the pleasantries, the prying into your business in hopes of getting information already told to you by my mother but wanting verification from you. That’s what family visits can be. Now had it been that it was only my godmother, time would have quickly recalibrated and I would have been out the door and in the car and continuing the conversation that I was having with my sweetheart as to whether we she should take our parents out to a brunch would have continued. Sadly that conversation never continued because by the time I got into the car there was so much more to speak about. And all of what we spoke of had to do with the persons who followed my godmother.

A short long rasta, dark-skinned cute woman, casually dressed in jeans and a magenta scoop neck empire waist top walked in close behind her. This woman was not as loud as my godmother, specifically because she was holding a baby girl of no more than 9 months, well coiffed and wearing a green dress. I did not at first know who they were and it took me all of the 20 seconds after they walked into my house and were formally introduced, before I had a well controlled spasm. This young woman is the wife of my god brother and the child is first born.

Had he been simply my god brother and I simply stunned at the fact that someone I considered like my brother is now married with baby and living that life compared to the way I still remember him (smoking weed in his mom’s car before he got to school), you would think that was natural, normal, regular, but there has never been anything normal about my life and I strongly doubt that there will ever be.

Let us go back to 2004 and we are at a neighbour function and I have just left school and working and looking dam fine; not trying to but oozing that late teenage-somewhat-jailbait sex appeal that only black big-breasted women ooze. It is at this function that my god brother, who shall be called Kevin herein, proclaims his interests in me. Being a late teen-somewhat-jailbait seductress, I am fully aware that
1. This is my god brother and YUK!
2. Chances are he really just wants to be on vice – yes my breast were and still are that mesmerizing.
3. THIS IS MY GODBROTHER. That I grew up with laughing at, being laughed at.
Being who I am naturally I flirt with him and leave the function very much aware of the fact that I have to know a extended family member at least for the 6 months when he leaves for school, while seeming very normal to the rest of the family.

Fast forward 2006, and he returns recently married and as far as I’m concerned, joyfully living his life. So we hang out and reminisce about old times and good laughs and school and friends and family. And in the middle of sitting in his gallery he leads forward and kisses me. A greedy passionate, risky kiss; you can taste the abandon on his lips. He kisses know and feeling nothing on the other side of it. It last for only 3 seconds but in 3 seconds he sells himself out.

I end up half way across the room in the next 2 seconds. He explains. What follows is a story of having feelings for the girl next door (ME!!!) but feeling strange about it, and hinting it to her and she, never actually say no 2 years ago, leaving and having her on his mind, getting married and knowing that he had to tell her and finally planning to tell her and choosing to take a risk instead.

I left with great haste. She spent the next 14 days of his stay trying to persuade me that a divorce was eminent so long as he could be assured that he was coming home to me.
“what about my wife?”
“she’s my friend. I HAD TO MARRY HER” (you know the Caribbean story – marry to stay, divorce and go home)
“so why not stay cause with her if you guys are friends.”
“because she wants children and I not lying, T, I not going to have children. WELL NOT TILL I TOLD YOU AND WAS SURE IHAVE NOTHING BUT MY MOM TO COME BACK HOME TO.
I wanted to talk to you first. I can work out everything. You just have to say that you willing even if it is to give us a try.”

Being me, I let the yuk factor subside, I took time to think about it. I will admit that was the first time in my life I realise he was good looking. I had been taking his features for granted since I could recognise them. I had taken him for granted.
Now folks don’t be concerned, he left with a ‘no’, claiming to be heartbroken. I may love guys but when it comes to matters of the heart and genitalia I really don’t trust them. He returned in December of 06. And although he knew I was seeing my sweetheart since the last time he was there, he unfortunately was introduced to him after bouncing us up on date being the PDA champions that we are. It was not premeditated.

So as I see Mrs. Kevin and the little Kevinette, my mind swims. I malfunction; all of my tact seems to drip from my limbs and I go into overdrive and overcompensate from my initial shock. I did not know about the Kevinette. I end up holding her and she lays her head on bosom and begins to get comfortable when Mrs. Kevin says
“you know she only like women with big boobs.”
I could not help but think these same breasts your husband seems to be so fond of.

And no matter how I tried, the Kevinette seemed not to want to leave from my arms. I removed myself from the adult conversation and pretended to be preoccupied with the baby – babies are always good ways to get out of conversation with their parents. I left that grown-up stuff to my sweetheart; all that was on my mind was “this is what it feels like to be the other woman”. I learnt in that conversation that the Kevinette was conceived in late January 07. His words began to haunt me.

After a long 10 minutes of acting as if I was comfortable. They walked out, my sweetheart took my bags, we got into the car and left and time sped back up.

And all my sweetheart had to say was, “you really have a way of messing with men’s mental... I love that fact that you have ability to leave me scarred”.

i am so lame

I attended a workshop today for the passionate people in the field in which I currently work. I work in a field abound with bleeding hearts and passionate intellectuals who search daily to find the answers to the questions and situation put before us daily and LOVE to tell people not in the profession about their work. As we gathered this morning and began the session I prayed that the day would yield exciting and thought provoking arguments, because if I have to write a report about this for my supervisor, it best provoke me to want to write.
Now I should say here that I should have known better than to have such high expectations I have been working in this field for the past 6 years. Additionally I should have expected nothing less than being bored out of my wits from myself. By the time it was 10 I had started observing the behaviours of the participants because you can always a person’s motives. You just have to read their cues and let us be honest if you can’t read their cues it’s not because you perceptive. It’s because you may not want to have to deal with the fact that there is always more than one hidden agenda in a room and sometimes yours is the most sinister.

Meetings are actually quite loud even if no one is talking; the posturing, the eye contact and the secret message being sent and received. Sit in on a meeting where there is no clear leader and wait for the mad dash to see who will dominate. Better yet sit in on a meeting where a coup d’état is brewing and the body language is screaming at you.

By after lunch I had realised with all of this delicious interplay of personalities in the room, my true nature shone through. The young woman next to me asked me something about the notes I was taking and I realised I was doing that thing I learned to do so well in secondary school take notes while still managing to thing about something completely unrelated.

In this case, I was day dreaming about going home to use my new battery powered fly swat that I had to get because I live in the tropics and the fruit flies were menacing my fruits basket.

I only realised how dysfunctional this really was when after hearing about 15 of the little buggers crackle on my swat and a quiet but overwhelming feeling of happiness fell over me and I genuinely smiled for the first time for the day. I have mastered a wonderful smile facsimile that is shockingly, hardly ever detected as a fake – so much so that I saw a picture of me smiling at a guy that I really think is a plague on both man and woman kind and more so mankind. He’s gay and thank God he is, because women have suffered enough. I was completely confused as to why would I looked so positively radiant next to that monkey’s ass, at that event. Only then I realised my general facial emotional deceitful was becoming simply that prolific.

These are the things that I would like to worry me. I would like to be shocked that am this way and then BE ENERGISED to change. Instead I have worked up sweat and am now heading to the fridge to eat the rest of a shrimp from dinner.

the last time you will think am sane

I believe that sanity is highly overrated. I think that with all the crap that occurs today sanity is an unnecessary luxury which complicates life and for as long as I can remember I functioned pretty well without it. But I will let you out there in cyberland judge for yourself.

You can call me Tactful. I think a formal introduction is necessary because chances are you're going to form opinoins about me and I figure if you're going to judge, criticise, laugh at or with, agree with or annoy me, we should be formally introduced. I don't need to know who you are; I am not sure I care about possible readers as yet considering that no one may ever read this blog or I may not care what you have to say. I care about being polite not so much about people perspectives on me.

Immediately I will dive into my disclaimer.
I am a woman who is consistantly disappointed by members of both sexes but because I don't have any expectations of men in the first case, my own sex tends to get the short end of the stick. Nevertheless I am completely in love with a younger man, who bless his heart has put up with me for the last 4 years. I am completely unsure why he's still with me. I kid you not. We've known each other for so long - even before the relationship- that am not sure if he realises that this is as good as I get. Admittedly I am worried if he' does know. For 2 reasons.
1. Because if he really is happy with this mess, I am with a man with fairly low standards and
2. The fact that he loves me unconditionally annoys me. HE SHOULD HAVE WANTED TO CHANGE ME BY NOW!!!
Otherwise I'm am a pretty nice lady - so am told and I work actively to make sure that facade endures because it ensures my personal and social successes.

Anyway the purpose of this blog is strictly theraputic.
I got the idea from a coworker who is not sure whether what I tell her about my life is true and entertaining or a complete fabrication and even more entertaining because then it would mean I am actually extremely lame and looking for friendship (there is so much to be explained about my work relationships but that at least 2 entries down the road). So first I had to figure out what a blog was because I am technologically challenged and I spend most of my time setting up programmes, writing reports, correcting papers, writing reports on the papers I corrected then correcting the reports written by my secretary and staff because out of 10 their incompetence is 15 (but am rambling).

I thought about it and I told my therapist, who is actually a friend that I lime with (hang out with) and she laughed at me and asked "Does that mean you will stop buying me dinner and forcing me to listen to your problems?"
"No! once I feed you, your ass is mine for the night."
"Well just don't bother me with the details."
I smiled.

So that's why I'm here. because my only friend in work thinks I lie about my life, my therapist doesn't like me to bother her while she's eating when I paid for her food (she won't allow me to make an appointment like normal people) and if I tell my man he'll just say "I don't care. I love you still." and continue to play with my hair or boobs or feet.