For the rest of my days, I will attempt to slip a line from the Color Purple into everyday conversation. "Sistah! You been on my mind!" "Speak Lord! Speak to me!" I cain't watch the part where the sisters reunite, though. That junk makes me boohoo like a small child. "Cain't no ocean, cain't no sea! Ma ke da da! Keep my sistah 'way from me! Me ke da da!" 

Family is an interesting thing. Here are a bunch of people who are related to you, some of them look like you, and most of them have the same blood coursing through their veins. My family, as is the case with typical African-American families, is very close knit. We'll congregate in one city a few times a year. Mostly we have a good time poking fun at each other. But, sometimes we point out each other's faults and it hurts. Still, it's family. You can't take that away from us. We prefer our family to tell us when we go wrong rather than someone else. So, we know they'll always be there in spite of all the crazy shit some of us might do. I mean, we should have kicked Tammy and Uncle Besey out a LONG time ago, but they're still around. Because they're family. You tell them when they're wrong, but for the most part, you just deal with the shit they put out there for you.

There's a fine line between close friends and family. Some of our close friends we consider family. For instance, my mom's friend Lucille, my cousin Brandy's friend, Trini, Aunt Pat's friend Candace. You mention their names, everybody knows who the hell it is. But, when you have someone that close to your family and therefore to your heart, it's sometimes difficult to know where to draw the line. But, somtimes it has to be drawn. Even with family, I suppose. But, I guess what I'm saying is sometimes the people you aren't related to that you may have referred to as family (or they may have even referred to you as family) will cut you off in ways that can be quite scary. You were once very close, then suddenly you're not. Unlike family, close friends don't have to take you back. You don't have the common bond of having the same relatives or being Type O Negative. So, I guess that makes it a concept that's very hard for me to grasp when applied to someone outside of my family. In my family, I have been placed in a position where I am challenged to accept people no matter what. But have also placed myself in a position with close friends where I can be cut off and it won't matter because their value system is different from mine. 

I don't know that you kids will understand what I'm saying. It's a painful process -- one that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. But it's just bizarre to be like family one day, and then ostracized the next. My family doesn't do this. Most Black families don't. At my great grandmother's funeral last week, stories were told of how my cousins could like go out and beat somebody up or rob a store or something, but she'd stick up for them until she was blue in the face to everybody that came to the door inquiring about it. Now, behind closed doors, she'd beat their asses, but nobody outside the family needed to know about all that. You belonged to her. That's what family is to me. You protect one another, but you also tell people when they do wrong. That's hardly the business of anyone outside the family. But, again, with close family friends, that shit gets blurred and it's unfortunate. I don't know how you white people take it. 

And you know what? Maybe that's just the thing. If they truly were like family, things wouldn't get all blurred. If they were something else, it allows room for the chaos to be created. So, maybe it was with this particular couple of people I'm talking about, they were never really like family even though I considered them as such. Hmmmmm. Hard lessons to learn. 

Oh. And my entry on the 10th mentions my not being sure of whether to continue to hold on or to let go. I think I'd like to let go now.

You know what I just thought about? Of course you damn don't. That's why I'm finna tell you. When I was sixteen, I worked at KMart. Okay, shut up! Quit laughin'! It was close to my house and if my car broke down, I could just walk and get there in like 10 minutes.

Anyway, I worked as a cashier at the pharmacy for a while and one of the pharmacist's name was Jamie. Jamie had to be in his 50s or early 60s. And he was single. I never heard him mention a wife, but he frequently mentioned a girlfriend. But, I really wanted him. Like I wanted us to have a physical relationship. He was a pharmacist, which would suggest he had some level of intellect. But, he seemed a few french fries short of a happy meal. I can remember sitting on a stool quite seductively and wearing short skirts so I could flash my underwear every once in a while. I also remember making sexually suggestive comments. Eventually, Jamie made sure I only worked out on the floor instead of up on the pharmacy platform with him. I don't know how he felt about my trying to seduce him, but it seems like he did what he could to stop it. I remember going home and fantasizing about being with Jamie sexually for hours. Imagining how my parents would freak when they learned of my being with a man a good 40 years my senior.

My junior year, I developed an intense crush on my math teacher. His name was Mr. Carmichael and I swear he was the biggest geek on the planet. He reminds me of that one really geeky teacher on Saved by the Bell. The one with the glasses and the curly blonde hair. Anyway, I fantasized extensively about Mr. Carmichael. I imagined us getting married, the sons I'd give him. He was married, though. And he didn't want kids. He was a good 30 years older than me. He ended up becoming my arch nemesis. Fucking Calculus and Physics! Damn! I got an F and a D respectively. It's hard to explain how our relationship soured. I started acting out because I didn't get the subject matter and he just responded. I don't think I've spoken to him since the last day of class my senior year. But, I thought about him last week. I took a picture of him during my sophomore year. He was suddenly quite intrigued by the word 'celibacy' and wanted to look it up in the dictionary. A bunch of students crowded around him as he did it. He must have been a closet freak. But, yeah. So many times I could just see myself running my hand along his chest and then closing in for the french kiss. Way too young for all that.

And there was this one time when I went to my father's church. There was this old man who was like 70 who sat next to me. And I was being all friendly or whatever. I forget where my dad was. I think he was ushering or something. Anyway, I think he saw me write my name down on a visitors card and also made note of my home church (my mother's church). The very next Sunday, he came sauntering in to my mother's church and plopped himself down right next to me. I made my mother aware of the situation and she positioned herself between the two of us and informed him I was only 16. He seemed to understand and was very embarrassed. I was a shapely 16 and had long braids down my back. I suppose that made me look older. But, for a brief period, I considered what it would be like to have been with him sexually as well. I thought I'd let him hit it once and then shove his old ass away. 

Looking back, I'm glad I didn't actually continue to pursue any of these relationships and these men had the good sense to back off because I was so young. Plus, the thought of having a penis that old inside of me makes me want to hurl. (running to the bathroom) All I'm saying is, I think I can understand where someone this age might have similar feelings and think they make all the sense in the world. But, they just don't.

My mom is truly convinced the money I make with my postdoc next year will go toward her new Jaguar. I feel bad for how mistaken she is. 

All I did was ask a question about certification and she was all like, "I don't think this issue warrants further attention." ?!?!???? Uh, yeah it does if I'm confused. But, I guess it just means it's important to me, but helping me develop professionally isn't all that important to her. Good to know. I know to leave her alone now. But, really, I'm not even sure if I should even interpret what she said that way. I hate people who make you have to guess at what the hell they're talking about. It's tiring, bitches! Why do I continue to bother?! I'm actually going to wait a few days before I respond to her. I'll be proud of myself if I can make it that long. It'll be a good lesson in discipline. Wow. I'm starting to feel like I'll NEVER find a mentor. I've been looking for one since 1999. I must suck or something. People don't want to see me do well. I don't know. Again, I probably need to pay more attention to the people I paid the least attention to. They probably really like me. Off to find someone else with this certification!

Wow! The Bitchtasticness! I can't quite get over . . . .

Okay, so I didn't really ditch work. I've been planning this weekend for some time and actually asked for the day off. The Mall was the bomb! No Camp Snoopy anymore, though. That's crap! But, I still had a fantastic time! I hope to get away again real soon!

Did anyone else's grandmother ask them to go get her teeth for her this morning or was it just mine?

I don't know whether to keep holding on or to let go. But, other than that, I'm chillin'. Still waiting on the residency interview. It's on the 20th. Wish me luck! Oh. And me and some friends are ditching work tomorrow to go to the Mall of America. I really wish Nanna could go. I think it would be nice for her to just kind of get away from things for a while. Oh well. I'll let you know how it goes . . . and whether I get fired for not reporting to work tomorrow.

I just got a residency interview offer at my top choice! Woohoo! I'm moving on up like the Jeffersons! (singing) Beans don't burn in the kitcheeeeen! Grits don't burn on the griiiiilluh! Took a whoooole lotta tr-y-in' a-justa get up that hiiiiiiill! (piano chord progression) You finish the rest.