Irons in the Fire

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” - Anaïs Nin

That is one of my most favorite quotes by Ms. Nin, and it perfectly describes where I am in life at the moment. I am somewhat private and hush-hush when it comes to sharing my goals and aspirations with people other than the ones I am intimately acquainted with, mainly my mother and sister. I do this because, of course, I believe in the power of words and don’t want others speaking against my plans and praying/plotting against me. There are some pretty wicked people out there. I also do this because if I fail, I can quietly get to work on Plans B through Z without being publicly humiliated. I am preparing to feel naked in 5,4,3,2…

My sorta tame curls blowing in the wind

I entered a natural hair/modeling competition. I initially only wanted to enter the hair portion which was not a competition, just for the exposure and experience, but it required I be a size 6. Um, yeah…I am double that plus 2. I was going to leave, but two of the lovely women hosting the event talked me into staying and signing up for the full figured segment. I met so many amazing women! What lead me to even considering this whole ordeal in the first place was the fact that in one week I was told by three different people (one was a random older foreign man in the grocery store) that I have the strut of a model. I took that as a sign to stop procrastinating, cast my line, and do the damn thing. Whatever happens, happens. I am enjoying the beautiful journey. Pray favor for me guys and maybe even a modeling/spokesperson contract! I have two boys to feed. We all know boys eat ALL day long. LOL

My wild curls

I love to dance. I dance and sound like a White girl from The Valley, but I love to dance no less. I am great at choreographed dances and learn them quickly, and I have also been doing liturgical dance since I was about 15 years old. I needed to work out and get in shape, but between work and my sons I never had the time. I started doing strength training in my office on my lunch breaks. I did mainly squats and lunges because they work the bigger muscles thus burning more calories. I figured I may as well get more bang for my buck and tone my booty in the process. I have been interested in Zumba but none of the classes ever fit my schedule, so me, being the overachiever I sometimes am, decided I would get certified and teach myself on my time. Well, word got out that I am a certified instructor. Long story short, I will begin teaching Zumba on my birthday, September 21. I am hoping for much success and a loyal customer base, and lots of booty popping, hip shaking, and shoulder shimmying ratchet fitness fun. I want the women in my class to feel like strippers and have fun! A friend of mine said he was going to make me some ‘Undercover Ratchet’ shirts because my outer appearance is so…not ratchet.

The last new thing I am checking off my list is spoken word poetry. I have a friend that owns a restaurant and is looking to diversify her clientele and thus is now hosting an open mic affair every Friday night from 10pm to 2am. She asked me to help kick things off September 28th. This will be the first time I ever read my work aloud. I don’t know how I feel about all this just yet.

Needless to say I have been one busy bee. If you are in Houston the weekend of December 7-8, stop by the reliant and holler at ya girl! If you live in Houston and want to join my Zumba classes or want to witness me bless the mic for the first time just let me know and I will get you the info. I appreciate you, babes and gents. You may reach me via email at duchessqui@gmail.com. What irons do YOU have in the fire?

I do not own the image of Teena Marie, but I do love her music. I can listen to “Portuguese Love” endlessly while imagining being on an island at dusk with a rugged masculine man that has one hand around my waist as his other puffing on a Cuban cigar. The wind fondling my hair and carrying the scent of his Hennessey laced skin. Euphoria…

Sex-etary

What are these women outchea doing?! Some are always complaining that their men aren’t making enough money while others just let them walk around being sexually and emotionally frustrated, and others still are doing all three. Bad business if you ask me. Nobody asked me, but I’ma lace you with my opinion anyway because this is my blog.  

Apparently some of the men I work with think I am their personal nerd that will spew out research papers at the drop of a dime with only a moment’s notice. I usually look over their directions for the papers and let that ish sit on the corner of my desk as I carry on with whatever I was doing before they walked into my office. I love to write, but I hate writing research papers, or papers of any kind for that matter. I can do it and charge them for it; I just don’t want to, though. All of these men are married. I feel they should be asking the women they wife-d up for such favors. I am not trying to put another woman in a pair of Louboutins. If you don't care enough about your man making more money and bettering y'all situation then why should I? You sure as hell won't let him cop me any Loubous once he does make it. And that brings me to where I was going with this post. If you’re complaining about your man’s income or lack thereof, what are you doing about it?

As much as I hate writing research papers, I would write one with the quickness for my man if it meant bettering him and his situation because in turn I would be bettering my own situation. In fact, I would do more than write his paper. I would be his secretary, administrative assistant, administrator, brain storming partner, sounding board, motivator, all that. Get that money, baby! Ambition is sexy, and I don’t ever want to see it die. Hell, if he got frustrated I would gladly suck him off or whatever he needed done to get him back on track. I’m here to help you, be your partner. I want you to be able to hold your head high and walk around like the S.ugar H.oney I.ced T.ea that you are all the while knowing that you have a fully grown intellectually inclined sexy woman backing you. Do your thing, Daddy.

Don’t complain about it, ladies. Get to work. Rub his head and pillow talk about how amazing his talents are and start asking questions to spark his interest in bettering himself for the two of you. While you’re ego stroking him, don’t forget about yourself. Stay driven and motivated about your life and goals outside of him. If yours coincide with his, great! If they don’t, so be it, still pursue them. Most men want you to have a life outside of them anyway. If you just don’t like your mate enough to want to see him do better then it may be time to totally reevaluate your entire situation. 

This just serves as my kind unction to get you to play your part to ensure you have a great sex life, travel the world, and rock the hell out of some fierce Louboutins, Brian Atwoods, L.A.M.B.s, Schutz, Cavalli, Charlotte Olympia, and anything else you like. Everyone knows a man making money with a supportive woman in his corner will gladly do whatever it takes to keep her happy, and a woman blazing her own trail in life is a spicy fun one. That all makes for great sex, conversation, company, and emotional stability. Now that’s some powerful stuff.*cue Beyonce’s ‘Grown Woman’ followed by Jay-Z’s ‘On the Run’*

Breezy Baby ;-)

I finished my hair with just enough time to stop by the shoe repair shop before heading to the airport to catch my flight. I leisurely pulled into the parking lot of the shop, happy to be able to wear my pumps again. I could sense him coming behind me as I stepped out of my car. I didn’t catch a glimpse of his face as he gently played in my hair, licked my skin with the velvety softness of a most divine silk and cashmere blend, and sang sweet melodic whispers in my ear. As I turned to face him, he breezed beneath my dress, causing it to flutter and rise. I hurriedly attempted to lower the hem while being overcome by a blushing fit that was futile to fight. He disappeared into the steaminess of the atmosphere, leaving me there alone blushing and looking around to see if anyone had witnessed our saucy interlude. I felt so sexy holding a dirty little secret wrapped in exhibitionism. How did that naughty gust of wind know I was wearing no panties?

I'm Chilling

I am not seeing anyone exclusively. Actually, I haven’t seen anyone totally exclusively since my divorce. I am not against monogamy, but by the same measure I’m not out here looking to get ‘chose’ as a wifey, either. I’m chilling.


I met a police officer. Wait, let me back up. I met a banking call center manager. He’s 37, divorced, 2 children, claims to want no more children, and seemingly financially stable. We went out to lunch one Sunday afternoon. It was a very nice date. Lots of easy conversation, laughs, comfort…the whole 9. Fast forward 2 days. He sent me a text stating that he really liked me and wanted to develop a relationship with me. I told him that while I was open for building a relationship and getting to know him better I was not, however, open for exclusivity. I was totally honest with him. He’s a wonderful man, and just about any woman would be happy to claim him as her own. He said he understood. We still talk and try to plan dates around our schedules. He said he wants to travel, take trips, and things of the sort. Total sweetheart he is. The first time he contacted me he simply stated, “You are a beautiful lady. Are you seeing anyone? I would like to take you out this week. Let me know when you are available.” Um…okay Daddy. LOL. I gave him my number and thanked him for his straightforwardness. I really liked that.

Now, back to the officer. Dude is totally dope. We met while he was working security at the local grocery store. Apparently he had seen me buy wine a few times, but this night I only bought juice. He said, “No drank tonight?” as I was leaving the store. I was a little embarrassed, but he was cute, so it was whatever. He walked me to my car, and we chatted for about an hour before I finally told him to just take my number and call me later because I needed to go. He’s 38, also divorced, has a few kids, going back to school for his masters and hopes to practice law. We talk about music, clothes, men, women, hair, shoes, and literally everything under the sun. He keeps me laughing, but he’s also blunt and direct. Those are qualities I hold in high esteem. Mr. Officer is a bit more rugged, though. He’s from the North, so he’s a bit fresh, has a cute subtle accent, drinks his liquor straight with no chaser, has tattoos, and rocks Timbs. I TOTALLY dig that. I LOVE very masculine men. They ignite my feistiness like none other. He asked me what I was looking for, and I told him nothing. He seemed a bit irritated at my response, but I honestly am not looking for anything. I am open for whatever but am not gunning to walk down the aisle. I told him we would just see what transpires.

Then there’s the Nigerian that has been here for a few years. He’s 38 and claims he wants to be married by next year. We argue so much it’s unreal, but he seems to get off on my going off on him. I ain’t able. He also wants about 2 more children. I REALLY ain’t able. I don’t want anymore. I have 2, and my ‘baby’ is 8. I’m good. I know that’s selfish, but it is what it is.

Lastly, there is Mr. HC Muse from a few posts down. Mister man is sexy as all hell. I honestly can’t figure out what we are. I’ve asked him to define ‘us’, but of course he hit me with the, “let’s not label and confine what could be.” Fair enough, but I swear dude acts all pissy or suddenly enthusiastically pops up when my status updates on facebook suggest there is someone else. In all honesty, there was no one else around when I first met him, which meant he very well could have had me all to himself, but he failed to define what he wanted from or with me. Perhaps I am making the same move with Mr. Officer, but I also know how to open my mouth and say that I want a more permanent ‘something’ should my feelings start getting the best of me. I’m not for that passive aggressive hinting ish.

I guess what I am basically saying is I don’t want to belong to anybody. I like being free and able to change my mind on a whim. These are all wonderful men. Truly they are, but all provide something different that I need. Mr. Banker lavishes me with compliments. Mr. Officer nicely balances my ghetto side. Mr. Naija feeds my sadistic nature, and Mr. Muse gives me the purest affection a woman could ask for. I don’t want to die an old spinster, but I also don’t want to be in another unhappy marriage, so for now…I’m chilling.

Sweet Escape

I’m sure almost everyone knows I am divorced with two sons. It’s also no secret that I am sensual, maybe overly so, and I love men. What I have never done thus far, however, is mix my two loves, my children and men. I take my mothering seriously.


Every other weekend my children visit their dad. That’s my time to ‘date’ so to speak. I know that isn’t ideal for some, but I get peace of mind knowing my children have my presence at home with them during the week. That means a lot to wee ones. On the rare occasions I do plan dates on weeknights I am sure to have devoted most of my time to the boys and ensured they have been fed, bathed, given any medications, and homework has been done. These weekday dates are usually reserved for men I have known for a while that travel quite a bit and happen to be in town for a few days. I also sometimes give these rare opportunities to men I really like that have been understanding of my situation and have never pressured me. It’s a small way of saying “thank you” I suppose.

My children have never met any man I have ever dated. I don’t want them to see me with various men and perceive me to be a loose woman. I also don’t want them growing attached to anybody that does not have a significant role in my life. I imagine it would be hard as a kid having different men in and out of your life. Not to mention, there are lots of sick people out there that love to do the unspeakable to children. One can never be too trusting when it comes to keeping the babies safe from predators. My parents have been married all my life, so I don’t know what it’s like to have had various step parents, but I do know what stability and the safe feeling of home is like, and that is what I aim for in the rearing of my little love muffins.

I want to be loved and lie in the arms of a man every night, but I am not willing to compromise my boys’ childhood in order to achieve that. I indulge in my hedonistic pleasures on my own time when they are away. I salute the men that understand and respect my wishes. They are truly gems. I make mental notes of their likes and try to indulge them when I can as tokens of my appreciations. It’s men like them that make swallowing the pill of being a single mom a bit smoother. I always feel like a schoolgirl sneaking out when I go out with them. It’s the sweetest of escapes.

Sometimes

Sometimes, as a woman that seemingly has her ish together but acutely aware of all her shortcomings, I need a wide chest to cradle my head and brazen arms strong enough to make me feel no harm could reach me. I need to stand on my tippy toes and kiss soft lips that sincerely beckon my own and peer into eyes that adore me. I inhabit the sensation of having my skin, curves, face, and hair caressed by gentle fingers that soothingly dismantle my fortress of ‘Never Appear Weak.’ Occasionally I need to be in the presence of a man that allows me to simply be my perfectly imperfect self, sometimes quiet as a cool breeze and other times inquisitive as a child. Such a man may prove to be the bane of my existence, but at least I will have felt like a woman while I existed.

What Does it Take to Forgive?

It’s been a minute since I’ve updated. I’ve been kinda busy, kinda not, and varying between trying to figure some things out and simply not caring about other things. Eh, the many moods of life. The one constant in my life lately has been men. What else is new, right?

I have a male friend that I have been down with since high school. We met as freshmen in 1995/1996. Most of our Honors classes were together. We shared a locker because of this, and our times in class mostly consisted of me trying to keep him awake and being disgusted by discovering he had drooled in the textbooks while sleeping. He held down a part-time job and played football, so he was always sleep deprived. Our relationship has always been platonic. There were a few rumors that we were secretly involved in the past because we were so cool, but that’s simply not true. We’ve slept in the same bed and never so much as ‘accidentally’ grazed hands. I love this guy! He has impecible fashion sense, random topics of conversation, great sense of humor, and that whole otherworldly thing that most Aquarius people have going on. What’s not to love? He visited me after I divorced my ex-husband. We talked for hours and fell asleep on the floor of my empty apartment. He’s gone to church with me and came out to support me at my book release party. I even named his first child, a beautiful little girl. She’s a Virgo, too, so you know she totally rocks!

A few weeks ago he sent me a text asking if I wanted to hang out. I was free, so I said yes. We hadn’t seen each other since my book release party which was a few summers ago. Whenever we hook up it’s as if we had never been apart. Anyway, he said he would call around 7 to firm up our plans and whatnot. I was PMS-ing, so I was a bit fatigued. I went home to lie down and wait for his call. It was past 8, and he still hadn’t called. I fell asleep, but I forgot my phone was on silent. I awoke in the middle of the night to find a missed call and text from him along with a missed text from a totally handsome guy I’ve been seeing, Mr. HC Muse from a few posts ago.

I felt horrible. Admittedly, I usually don’t make many plans in advance. I prefer to just wing it and go with how I feel at the moment. I know I am fickle and flighty, but if I truly care about you I don’t haphazardly flake. I make efforts to honor my words. I called him, and he sent me to voicemail. I left a message explaining what happened and offered to make it up to him however he saw fit. No reply. I sent him a text explaining again what happened. He gave me some nonchalant half-assed reply about being hurt and disappointed and now that he knows I am a flaker he knows what to expect from me. I tried to plead with him and get him to understand that I truly didn’t stand him up on purpose. He wasn’t having it, so I dropped it. I’m not good at groveling, and he said he’s good at giving people a hard time. I don’t hold grudges, but I don’t exhaust myself trying to get other people to change their stances, either. I am sincere. When I apologize I truly mean it, otherwise I don’t even bother with apologies. I am truly puzzled as to why he’s so upset. One would swear I had flaked on a guy that I was romantically involved with. Like seriously, what gives?! I wish there was a way we could get past this, but I suppose only time changes some circumstances and other times things simply play out the way they are supposed to. I love him, but I also am not one to kiss anyone’s ass in the name of forgiveness. You either forgive or you don’t. End of discussion.

Do you expect the party that wronged you to grovel for your forgiveness?