The Emotional Runner

So it happened again... my outside run meltdown. I'd originally started this blog last week but wanted to conduct some research first. But because I am lazy it took substantially longer than it shoulda... but now I know, that, running outside... is liberating.

I am an emotional runner.

Not sure if it's all the endorphins or the sweat... or the view of the lake... or my shin splint that calls me all kinds of Bs and hoes when I'm done, or the runners I trick that I too am a runner when they give me the "what's up" nod and smile thinkin I'm huffin and puffin it out... KNOWIN I just was walking.... but twice now, after my outside run, I've teared up. What the hell is that about? I ran twice this past week and I certainly needed to.

I know running serves as a way to clear your mind... and each time now it has done just that. I did it. It was nice because all while running, listening to myself pant and feeling old muscles I haven't seen or heard from in ages start to ache and burn... I didn't think about anything that ached my heart and mind... things I can't control, things I am uncertain about, things I can't explain, why I can't control what goes into my mouth (or what comes out of it sometimes), why people who've never taken the time to know me hate me so... coming back around my turn and coming off that last incline all my thoughts ran down my cheeks.

And I felt... great.

The tears didn't help me answer any of those questions or qualify anything... but they helped me to release, if only for a moment. My professional week was... an utter disaster. New boss... strong arm approach... makes for a combative RBG...

Boss: I wouldn't call it combative.
RBG: I would.

I respect everybody... until I am given a reason not to. Lying to my face, being intimidated by lil ol me... I can't help it because I have a bubbly personality and (most) of everybody I come into contact with likes me... while people are wondering why you're walkin around the office like a stick's up your butt... people are inviting me to after work affairs... bish get real.

The Queen is here.... Sound the TRUMPETS!

In all seriousness, I'm really harmless (unless you cross me). I've been examining it, from ladies who think I "stole" their man to coworkers who think I'm competing for their raise/promotion... to now bosses who think they can come on my turf and strong arm my respect and just make me do it how you want to... listen up, the LOT of you... I ain't taking NO MO disrespect. We having closed-door conversations from here on out. When I originally decided to publish this thought process into a blog, I was all set to dissect why ya'll feel soooo inferior... but I've decided to digress.

I used to find it funny. But now, I just don't give a f*ck.

"Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent."
~Eleanor Roosevelt

Toodles to you b*tches...

~*RBG*~

Please God, Let it Begin!

I stumbled upon this site today and I was like WOW... where have you been all my life!? I really love what's going on here! And I am hitting the Chicago premiere of "You Saved Me" with some homegirls...

Enjoy this read, an excerpt from their blog. Between them, the Obamas, Kindred the Family Soul, and the Owens... I am starting to believe that a real, successful happily ever after can exist... from the first family to the normal family... to my family... *crosses fingers... prays... does a couple hail Mary's... throws salt... clicks heels together*

Please God, Don't Let It End!!!

By Lamar and Ronnie Tyler on June 29, 2010 6:52 AM

by Ronnie Tyler

Hubby: Hey boo

Me: Hey babes we miss u

Hubby: Follow my tweets today

Me: Ok

My husband and I were texting as he attended an all day social media conference a few weeks ago. I love him to death!! And when we are apart, I miss him dearly. And when he comes home after being away, I am so excited to see him. Please God, don't let this feeling end!!

We have been together for 7 years and married for almost five years. When people see us, they think our love is so cute. When they ask how long we've been married, they say: "Oh you are newlyweds." Newlyweds?? Since when does being married for 5 years make you a newlywed??? Wikipedia says that you are considered a newlywed: if you have been married for less than one or two years, or until you have kids, or until you stop behaving like newlyweds (i.e. laughing, playing, having lots of sex, etc.) Well we have been married for almost 5 years, we have 4 kids (a blended family) and we have not stopped acting like newlyweds!! Please God, don't let it end!!

It's almost like people expect you to grow apart and to just settle into a routine that does not include having fun, being excited about each other, being playful, etc. While I know that everyday life can get hectic, stressful, busy, tiring...etc, I don't believe that I have to settle for a life without playful moments, missing someone, having a friend, a lover, and a boo .

So how do we plan to keep the excitement alive? As Ayize and Aiyana say, we will be intentional about making our marriage work by:

• Continuously working on our marriage (education, workshops, reading materials, counseling...whatever it takes to keep it strong.)
• Continue to date each other and ensure that set aside quality time to spend with each other
• Continue to be affectionate with each other (daily hugs, kisses and I love yous...)

After dating my husband for a couple of months, I called my friend that introduced us and said Lamar is a sweetie pie. And almost 7 years later, he's still my sweetie pie...my boo. Please God, don't let it end!!

Essence family, how do you keep the excitement alive in your marriage and relationships?

Lamar and Ronnie Tyler are the creators of the award-winning blog BlackandMarriedWithKids.com. They also are behind the Amazon.com bestselling DVDs Happily Ever After: A Positive Image of Black Marriage and the newly released You Saved Me. The Tylers are also the proud parents of four children.

*pulled from Essence

Let's Hear It For The Boys...

"Sooo let me get this straight: you dress and look like this *points* yet you smoke an occasional cigar, love sports, play Poker, drink whiskey and watch ESPN? Will you marry me?" (Paraphrase) ~Guy at a Bar

While other sisters were trying to break their tomboy attributes I always embraced mine. I knew one day I would dress like a lady, I was in no rush. Even when I was in grammar school and the average boy couldn't really see who RBG was (I can think of three guys who had interest in me during junior high which is minuscule in comparison to my then girly counterparts) it didn't bother me. I wasn't interested in much of anything the standard boy was into then anyway... Nope... I was more into 3-way phone conversations of gossip, shooting hoops, rollerblading and all things active, and still playing with my dolls and toys (yeah, on a public blog I said it). It wasn't until I hit high school when ALL the boys adored a frosh-soph jock. Not only was I athletic, but I had a big ass... bonus. Freshman year I began to embrace my femininity as much as a TOM BOY for the first 14 years of her life could. So I wasn't necessarily wearing skirts and dresses yet (OK, I just started really wearing skirts and dresses within the past six years). I also have a very strong, public speaker like voice...

..... what the hell was the point of this blog? .........

Oh yes. I've never been afraid to be the tomboy... BE "one of the guys" because I found without any sort of extensive research that if you were seen as a buddy they could eventually see you as a girl; once they saw you as a girl, they could see you as their girl... it never failed. Fool proof! And I was doing very well with this particular way of thinking... until I had a child. Don't get me wrong, having my sun is still the best thing I've done to date... but something fundamentally changes a man's perception of you when a woman... gives birth. Suddenly, I'm not RBG the homie anymore... I'm RBG the mom. Despite me ONLY wanting a boy as my first child (and publicly announcing it -- there was none of that "so long as it's healthy" crap with me) because I knew I would be able to CONNECT with him more vs. a girl... despite all my guy-like qualities without being a butch lesbian I am still seen as "wife" and mother... versus the person and friend you fell in love with. And I think this is completely unfair. I'm still me... and still a LOT of fun. (If I do say so myself.)

I'm blessed with very strong familial support so I generally, even if I do hate to ask sometimes, can always find a sitter — everyone ADORES my child... why wouldn't they? — so getting away is never a problem. I didn't turn into one of those weird holier than though moms either. I don't specifically ask that you change your language around my sun, though I will ask you to smoke outside (he has young lungs and second-hand smoke kills!) and to be completely honest, unless it's a family event where other children are present, you don't even have to worry about seeing my child at all. And you'd only KNOW I was a mom if you knew me. Even at work, I don't talk about him unless someone asks who the adorable creature is on my desk. And even then it's not a flip out pictures moment and telling you stories about his first steps (unless you inquire cause you're reeeeally curious). I still have my own identity. I still love to do the things that make me me... in FACT, I appreciate them more now because I am an outstanding mother and my child is now my main priority, so I do spend a lot of time with him but I still need a life outside of him. You can't remain sane any other way. Luckily for my sake I was never a "baby talk" person so I still know how to speak to adults as such because well, I talk to my sun, as such. Ever since the womb. I'm really a great, down-to-earth mom who never lost sight of herself despite my biggest fears that I wouldn't know what the hell I'm doing. Think Miranda. (Long video...really first to up about the 4th minute'll do ya.)



So... why does this happen... to me? I don't know yet, but I want my life back... the life when my men friends/mates still invited me to the things we used to do that made us the friendship/couple to envy... the best friend you've always wanted who can not only look good in a suit and a dress, but help you through your lady problems... share a beer from a bottle as it was intended, yell at the game while cussin like a sailor (only when ABSOLUTELY necessary) but still a tiger in the bedroom, can cook and all that gibberish. I am not trying to lose my identity in being a mom. I need all my components on a regular basis: my motherly ya dig, my simply-RBG ish, my girlfriend time (I am fabulous and loooove tight jeans, shoes and handbags and my walk is mean), but more importantly, my man time. My tomboy isn't going anywhere... no matter if my lip gloss is poppin and there's a jogger stroller in the back of my whip.

So please, don't forget about ya boi.

Cheers! *raises fried chicken and a shot of Maker's Mark with well-manicured and polished nails*