The Art of Piddling

Greeting from my favorite place on earth -- my couch. Yes, friends it is Vacation Day #3 and the living is easy. I had a whole list of things to get into today, but I decided that I just wanted to sit here and perfect the fine art of piddling. What is piddling? Taking time to do absolutely positively nothing and love every moment of it.

I used to feel SO guilty when my friends and family teased me about my marathon piddling sessions. It's nothing for me to watch TV for six or seven hours, soak in the tub for two hours, and sleep for at least 10 hours on a Saturday morning. As my life has become fuller and richer with new friends and awesome opportunities over the last few months, it's been a little harder to get in my piddling time. I also recognize that it's no small feat to get up every day and work, combat office politics, be present for friends and family, and manage to keep it all together. So, when I am blessed to have a stretch of a few hours to sit back and relax, I get my piddling on.

Pidding is refreshing, reviving, and necessary. I realize that I am speaking from the vantage point of being a single gal without the responsiblities of a relationship or children at this point in my life. But piddling time isn't just for single folks; it's even more crucial for those of you who are married with childen. Kick your hubby out of the house for an hour or two and make sure he takes the kids with him. Call up your single girlfriend and ask her to watch your kids for a few hours (Note: To my girlfriends with kids, not this week, tho. LOL!). We all MUST make sure we are taking the time to refresh our spirits by vegging out, having long phone calls with good friends, reading a good book in one sitting, or just sitting in our favorite chair and just being grateful for life.

Yes, you all can feel free to make fun of me on the 25th when my vacation is over. But for now, it's me, a bag of Pirate's Booty, a liter of Diet Dr. Pepper, and 20 hours of worth of my favorite shows on my DVR. Let the piddling commence!

P.S., Are you one of those folks who doesn't know what to do with your free time? Pick up The Art of Doing Nothing by Veronique Vienne. This is a great book full of great ideas for a day of piddling.

10 Years of of Happy Nappiness!

This month, I am celebrating 10 glorious years of my happy, beautiful, nappy hair. It took me a LONG time to find peace with my hair and to find styles and products that make my hair look and feel marvelous. However, my natural hair journey did not begin so smoothly. It actually began with a few...OK who I am I kidding, a LOT of tears.

I had worn a perm for almost 14 years, beginning with my first perm at age 7. My sisters Karen and Wanda spent many a Saturday laying down my roots and curling and frying my hair to perfection. However, their hard labor was often in vain due to my super thick hair resisting all perms known to mankind. It was like my hair looked at me and said, "Oh, you wanna be straight? Sike!" Me and perms never got along. Between the scabbing, itching, and my hair's inability to have that elusive white-girl hair bounce, I was done.

During the summer of '99, I attended at natural hair care work shop at Sibanye Bookstore in Baltimore. This was right around the time when Erykah Badu was uber popular and she and a few other famous women were making it cool to go natural. I began my natural journey by embarking upon the slow process of wearing two-strand twists that merged my natural hair and my processed hair together. The eventual goal would be that the permed hair would be cut off every four to six weeks until it was completely grown out. Anybody who has gone through this process knows that it is HARD to manage two COMPLETELY different hair textures. I couldn't wait any longer so....I decided to cut all of my hair off.

The day I cut my hair off, I was SO nervous. My stomach was rolling with fear. When I got to the salon to do the official cutting, I just closed my eyes and waited for the hairstylist to finish. When she was done, she and the other stylists raved about how great I looked. When she handed me the mirror, I was just shocked. My hair had never been so short. I was speechless. I went home and I cried. Hard. (If you need a REALLY good laugh, just ask my brother Thomas to recall how I ran upstairs to my room that night and immediately covered my head). After the initial shock, I grew to love the low maintenance of my natural hair. I loved that my head did not have to sting from harsh chemicals and that I did not have to fear the rain ruining my hair. I learned how to care for my hair in a way that is fun, creative, and liberating for me.

Ten years later, I am still in love with my natural, beautiful, nappy hair. I look forward to spending my Sunday nights puting my hair in my signature two-strand twists or releasing my twists and wearing my favorite super curly Afro or twisting my hair in flat braids or just putting on a head wrap and calling it a day. I've received more compliments in the last 10 years than I had in the previous 14 years when I permed my hair. I believe that those compliments are a natural extension of the love that I have for my hair.

As women of color, I know that we fight tooth and nail about how to wear our hair and all the politics that come along with it. I fully recognize and acknowledge that I am blessed to have come of age in a time when it is more acceptable to wear natural hair. I believe that every woman has the right to do what is best for her. As I write this blog today, I am currently wearing my hair pressed out. It's beautiful and wonderful that as women of color we can have so much versatility with our hair. I occassionally make jokes with my girlfriends who have perms and tell them that they need to say away from "the white man's box of poison." But, it's all in fun. I say that we should all find what works for us, whether it is a perm, weave, dreadlocks, or an Afro, and rock those styles that make us feel and be beautiful.

I'm including a few of my photos from my natural hair journey (Good Lord, my hair has come a LONG way!). I also list a few of my current favorite products. Enjoy!

My Hair Journey

• Left: Me (in the lime green sweater) with my TWA (Tiny Weeny Afro) - January 2000
• Center: One of my first sets of two-strand twists during college - March 2001
• Right: My Auburn Wanna Be Mary J. Blige Afro - November 2001 (Seriously, nobody loved me enough to tell me how wack that shirt was?)

• Left: My signature two-strand twists - New Year's Eve 2007
• Center: My favorite curly Afro - October 2007 ( I just love when I come into work the first day after I untwist my hair and, it NEVER fails that one of my white co-workers will say, "Your hair is so different today. What did you do to it?" Still makes me laugh EVERY time!)
• Right: Flat twists with a Afro puff - April 2006 (I just love the classic "Home Alone" expression from my co-worker's kid. Had to leave her in the picture!)

My Current Favorite Products

• Carol's Daughter Black Vanilla Leave-In Conditioner (I spray my hair with this right before I begin twisting my hair)
• Carol's Daughter Mimosa Hair Honey (LOVE this stuff! Great for setting twists and giving incredible shine)
• Nexxus Humectress Shampoo and Conditioner

I Fly Above!

Every week, I swear that I will not watch another episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Then, about 30 minutes later, I give in and find myself hopelessly entertained by these insane women with WAY too much time on their hands. I've convinced myself that watching the show does make me feel better about my drama-free episodes of A Real Single Gal from Alexandria, VA. After watching catfight upon catfight, I was quite surprised to find a spiritual nugget in last week's episode.

I spent about a day and half last week trying to figure out how to form a better relationship with a team of my colleagues. I looked at this group from every possible angle. After giving myself a near aneyursm, I just gave up in a fit of frustation. Then, I went home and watched last week's episode of The Housewives and I was captivated by Kandi's new song "I Fly Above." I really loved the lyrics of the song which said

I'm so comfortable in the skin I'm in

I'm secure about who I am

So you can go ahead and talk all you wanna

I built up a shell and it's hard and it's armored

I fly above all the drama, I fly above, I fly above

It's beneath me, it's beneath me, it's beneath me

When I woke up the next day with that song still ringing in my spirit, I knew that it was the answer to my dilemna. That particular group of folks was not worth me getting down in the weeds and wasting my precious energy. Instead, I can choose to fly above that drama and give myself permission to just let people be who they are and not try to change them or change myself for them. How liberating!

Before you waste this beautiful, God-given day worrying about anything, pray about everything! Let God give you the wings to fly above whatever challenges you are facing today.

The Wonder of Fall

I just LOVE this stretch of the year between late September and Christmas. The weather is just right, the apples are fresh and crisp, the leaves are brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, and gold, and all feels right with the world. I love covering my neck with beautiful scarves, eating pumpkin bread, drinking apple cider, wearing my favorite boots, and using the word "autumnal" a lot.

I like setting aside some time in early fall to see what I've done in the past nine months and to re-evaluate where I want to be by the end of the year. So far in 2009, I'm proud that I my blog is up and running (Yay Me!); I restored some great relationships with friends and family; and I'm glad that I am taking the time to lay a good spiritual and emotional foundation for my 30s.

I'm looking forward to meeting my goal of walking 100 miles by the end of the year (only 75 miles to go!), meeting the newest member of the Lakins clan (hang in there, Kisha!), and ending this year stronger, wiser, and better than I was before.

I hope that all of you will take a little time to look at where you are now and where you want to be. I find that taking a moment to reflect on my journey helps me to be a little less hard on myself and grateful for every little blessing that I am honored to receive. Hope your fall season is off to a good start!

It’s Not What They Call You….It’s What You Answer To

I was dying the other day after reading Jozen Cummings’s blog post on Essence.com titled “The Truth About Jump Offs.” While I was equally amused and outraged by his four points on optimizing a relationship with a woman strictly for “recreational purposes,” I was more entertained by the 100+ comments from irate readers who called this dude everything but a child of God. Many of the women expressed their outrage and felt degraded for being referred to as just that “side chick.” As I read comment after comment, each one angrier than the last, I remembered a classic piece of advice that I learned in grade school – “It’s not what they call you…it’s what you answer to.”

While I take pride in being a modern, 21st century woman, I’m very old fashioned when it comes to dating and relationships. The only names I will respond to in relation to a significant other are “girlfriend,” “fiancé,” or “wife.” Any man who even THINKS about referring to me or treating me as a “jump off,” “boo,” “wifey,” or “shawty,” should definitely think again. And, “baby mama?” Ain’t no way in hell I will be giving birth to anyone’s child without a marriage license and a rock solid commitment to God and me. But, these are just my standards, and I hold no judgments against anyone who chooses otherwise. Every person has their emotional and spiritual capabilities, and I know for me that accepting anything other than absolute and total respect from a man will have me in jail or a in an insane asylum.

At the end of the day, each woman has to decide what she will or will not accept from a man. If a man refers to you or treats you like a “jump off” or a “side piece,” it’s up to you to decide if you will answer that call. Don’t get mad if someone calls you outside of your name if you are allowing the actions or behaviors to occur. As women, I believe that each one of us has the responsibilities to set, and here’s the key, STICK TO our own standards. No man will have the power to disrespect you unless you allow him to.

Remember, it’s not what he calls you…it’s what you answer to.

P.S., If you need a good afternoon pick-me-up, Jozen’s blog “Until I Get Married” is HILARIOUS. Warning: It is equally offensive and entertaining. For me, he includes great information about what women should NOT do in relationships.

The Grown-Up Optimist

Anyone who knows me pretty well can testify to my natural inclination to see the good in everyone, find the bright spot in a tough situation, and smile in the face of some pretty dire circumstances. Lately, it seems as though all my optimistic powers are falling flat. My favorite Bible verses, inspirational quotes, and songs are still ringing in my head, but they don’t seem to be charging me up and fueling me the way that they used to. I’ve spent the past few weeks in deep introspection (or as I like to call it “being alone in my head without adult supervision”) and I still couldn’t quite put my finger on what’s been nagging me. After spinning my head through my emotional blender for the umpteenth time, I began to recognize that I have allowed my emotions to run the show. I was desperately looking for anything that would give me my next hit of happiness and joy. As I took a step back from my feelings, I started to see that my optimism needed to grow up.

Although my chronological age is 30, some days I act like a 5-year-old little girl. I am happy when things were going well, but I stomp, kick, and scream when things and especially people don’t go my way. I started to see that, like most little kids, I was a slave to my feelings. My optimism was totally dependent on if I really felt like things would go my way, on my time schedule. As an adult, I know that life doesn’t work like that, but the little kid inside of me was screaming, “WHY NOT?” When I sat 5-year-old Leah on a timeout, I started to understand that my feelings are a very fickle thing to put my faith in. Shoot, if I only did things when I felt like doing them, I’d never do icky grown-up stuff like going to the dentist, visiting the OB/GYN, or trying something new. I began to see that grown-up optimism isn’t based on what I feel but what I KNOW.

I know beyond a doubt that God loves me; I know that He always provides a way for me; and I know that He has always sent incredible people to support and anchor me throughout my life. With all of this wonderful knowledge and a lifelong track record of seeing God’s incredible blessings upon my life, I recognize that my feelings are irrelevant. I have to remember and KNOW that ALL things are working together for my good. So, the question is, Will I continue to put my faith and hope in Him even if I can’t feel it? I sincerely believe that as I begin to say “Yes” more and more to that question, my optimism will grow up and my childish ways of thinking will begin to fade.

So, I know that in this season of uncertainty, my optimism isn’t always going to feel like rainbows and sunshine. I have to know that truly God is working everything out for my good. I’m learning that grown-up optimists don’t always feel good but they have faith and know that the good seeds that they have planted will reap a harvest in just the right way at just the right time.

This Glass of Haterade is for You!

I've never been very fond of the whole "hater/hateration/haterade" lingo that has come about over the past few years. My occupation as an editor and my adopted bougieness as an adult have prevented me from fully adopting these terms into my vocabulary. But lately "haterade" is the only suitable term that I can use to describe a string of folks who are just determined to rain on my parade. So, without further ado, I'm going to let LaQuisha (my beloved alter ego) take over the rest of this blog post.

So, listen up and listen closely. I am no longer going to tolerate ANY foolishness from the following folks:

• Chronic complainers,
• Dream killers,
• Sarcastic jerks, and
• Just plain old ignorant folks

If you don't have anything nice to say to me, keep it moving. If you don't have any dreams of your own but are determined to step all over mine, you can exit stage left. If you are comfortable being stagnate and resigned about your current life situation, my ears are no longer a listening station for your concerns. My life is too valuable to be weighed down by you and your stanky attitude. If you don't like it, too bad. Take your cloud of doom and gloom to somebody who cares, which by the way does not include me.

So, today, I am serving tall glasses of haterade to all you haters. Don't worry if you finish it all in one sitting because once God gets through with me, you'll be drinking my haterade by the gallon. I used to get really pissed when you haters showed up, but now I know that you are critical and even necessary for my success. I believe that David said in Psalms 23 that you would become my footstool. Actually, I need to say "Thank you" for bringing me down to my knees so that God can lift me up even higher.

So, you have been warned. If Leah suddenly disappears and I show up, you know that you have activated the Haterade Emergency System. Any words that come out of Leah's mouth will be designed to put you back in your place and show you where to go, how to go, and just how fast you need to get there. While I recognize your purpose in her life now, just know her days of cowering and trembling about your petty little comments are over. There will be no more tears shed over your failure to recognize how awesome Leah is. As she prepares to take over the world with her master plan, just know that the Haterade will be available in larger sizes and in better flavors such as jealousy, envy, and "Oh, no she didn't."

Thank you, haters!

Sincerely,

LaQuisha

P.S., Folks, I am really sorry about today's post. LaQuisha got all fired up and she forced me to let her taking over the writing this morning. I think she's OK now. I'll give you fair warning if she decides to return. But, PLEASE, PLEASE, I beg of you, do NOT activate the Haterade Emergency System. It is NOT pretty!

Hugs!

Leah :-)