An impromptu day off work. The roomie didnt arrive home to go to bed till 11am (lol) and then had to work at 8. This has left me with an apartment all to my own accord all day and night. So domestic. Bliss.
Tonight in the throws of solidarity I am making a hurdle of wills. Im siting down to watch “For Colored Girls” finally. Now I didnt think this would be a big deal. I wasnt really hesitant about it at all. But I started watching it over an hour ago and Im only 12 minutes into the actual film because I keep pausing it and getting up and distracting myself with other things.
I was so excited about this movie when it first came out. Black middle aged women living in New York struggling for equality and respect?? What could be better. We all know my penchant, however unexplainable to me, for aging female protagonists. And its a given that black culture (is that the right word choice??) ranks high on my ‘like’ scale (eg: Jackie Brown, Cleopatra Jones, Samuel L. Jackson etc…). Plus, and you may not know this about me, city street culture really janks my sweet tooth (eg: Kids, VBS tv, whatever else) I have a theory that it was Sesame street that sparked this flame, but I digress. The point being… I really wanted to see this movie. However. The night I was supposed to go see it… the guy I was supposed to see it with broke my heart instead. So I guess I have a bit of a soft spot or a pinched nerve everytime this movie would cross my mind.
Tonight… I thought ‘What the fuck’ Im gonna do it. No big deal.
But Im finding it kinda difficult. Its not that Im dwelling on things, but I do have my moments even still. Short periods of regret maybe? Regret and woe I guess? Having said that I gotta say that -worry you not, as that woe surely soon turns sour and by the time I reach the end of whatever block I happen to be walking the only regret I have is for being such a doormat for such a period of time and how contradictory that is to the mission statement written across the inside of my eyelids. And now here I sit having watched twelve minutes of these fictional women being doormats themselves Im crawling out of my skin.
Thank god I have this bag of peanut M&M’s
