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Stream of consciousness…

You guys remember a few weeks ago I posted a post when I was trying out wordpress and dual blogging here I posted about women and friends? You remember don’t cha?
Went all on about women and how difficult it can be to be a woman amongst women.
Yeah? Well, one of the girls I went to high school with and mentioned by name googled her self and guess who’s website was listed as number 1? Yeah, exactly.  (why did I mention her by her actual name I have no idea, any of them really.)
But she, well, I’ll reprint her post here since she left it.

Hi Raquita,  I just happened to google my name on the internet to see what I came up with.  And to my surprise my name came up on your page.  After reading your blog on ‘women, friends and trust’ I feel ashamed of the pain that I caused you when we where in high school.  Never in a million years would I have thought my name would be linked to such cruel, mean, and unkind feelings.  Today, I pride myself on helping others and being a great resource for my friends and family.  I volunteer my time for such organizations as Junior Achievement and anything else that has to do with bettering the lives of children.  The truth of the matter is, I was a very self conscious girl in high school and was dealing with my own poor self esteem/image (if you remember I wasn’t the smallest girl @ RGHS either – and my hair wasn’t the longest).  I let people influence me (I was weak).  Fitting in was much easier.   None of this is an excuse for the way I made you feel.  I just want you to know some of the reasons behind my actions.  I will say to you today, I’m sorry that I caused you to not trust women.  I apologize for all the harsh words, looks, or anything else that made you uncomfortable and feel bad.  When I saw you at the 10 year reunion, I was so happy to see you with your family.  I mentioned to several people afterward who did not get a chance to attend that you had a beautiful daughter and seemed very happy.(image placeholder)  To answer your question, you’ve never done anything to me.  Perhaps you were the target so I wouldn’t be.  When I think of Raquita Jones, I think of the girl with the camera who took the best year book pictures ever (I was only ). In earlier years, I remember Raquita as the girl who was an(second to you  absolute fan of Janet Jackson and toted the scrap book around of her. Oh and also of the girl who got along with most guys in school.  I remember a boy I was dating came home and told me he played basketball with you and you were really good.  Never could I make a connection like that with a boy.  I admired that you could be friends with guys and not have to date them.   So please accept my apology.  I know that it cannot undo what happened when we were teenagers but I hope it will help you to know that I was hurting too.  Not in the exact same way but hurting none the less.  I cannot speak for the others but, I hope that you will forgive me.  I want to be as blessed as you are one day to have a daughter as beautiful as Cammy.  I will make sure that I share this story with her to ensure that there will be no repeat offenders in my family.   I hope that now when you think of Pauletta Whitehorn you will remember something good as well.Sincerely,Pauletta Whitehorn

I sent a note of apology as well, as  I shouldn’t have posted their actual names and will go back and edit that and make that right. My note of apology read

I would like to apologize as well, I never should have put your actual name in that post, it never occurred to me that anyone who I went to high school  would ever run across it. and I will remove yours and the others as I don’t want people to google your name and come across it either.
high school was a long time ago, and it has been far too long to still hold grudges. I assure you I don’t hold any, although I will admit the scars are still there.
We were all just girls trying to figure out our way into womanhood. no one ever said any of the walk would be easy. It amazes me still when you ask people what they remember how different the memories could be. You were so strong to me. at the time I thought you could see my insecurity and that was transgression enough. You were a great photographer, between you and (the other girl who took pictures with us in high school)  (never tell her I thought you were better than her too)  I was always very proud of the work we did in those classes.
This post came on a difficult little stretch – trying to figure how to give Cammy everything she needs, all the tools I can, how to make it easier, stop the scars, use my past to better her future. Explain to my other friend so she could see, too. So please accept my apology as well. 
 Hopefully we can both use these experiences to better the kids we come in contact with, I promise I wouldn’t change a thing about high school – or I would have never come to Jerry and Cammy. That is a trade I would never make, and I’m sure you have beautiful children in your future, maybe we can think play date one day?

Raquita

Lo and behold the power of the internets and a blog.

I wish I went to this guys church, and I’m not real big on church. But if I could find a local church that went with this process I probably would go more often.

http://www.whchurch.org//whchurch/pdfs/2006-07-30_NYTimes.pdf

I am pro life, in general and we disagree on some little things, but man – he’s got me on the big ones.

imgp7448
Originally uploaded by raquita.

So Cammy, you are two years four months and roughly six days old.
You are talking up a storm. Our days are filled with conversation with you and sometimes it catches up off guard.
You ask “What cha doing?” a lot. You are saying whole statements like “I would like some candy please.” And “I am watching baseball with my daddy.” You also call out touchdown during football games. You are still really, really attached to your binky, stating the other day with your granny. “ I must have it have to go back for it granny!!” when you left it at church.
You are talking to me about the things we watch on TV, we have discussed the rat and the dog fight on lady and the tramp. And what a baby is, and why its so amazing. Your Disney movie obsession is going strong. Currently we are watching Fox and the Hound (more puppies) although we start it after the mother gets killed, again. We talk about how important it is to be true friends, and treat people the way you want to be treated. You like to cook with me. I love to cook with you. We are good friends. We have a good time. You have started paying attention to my stern voice better. You have spurned a set bed time. Although you are set to your bed time routine. We MUST read a story or two, where the wild tings are, and god gave us you, are in heavy rotation. Corduroy books and books with flaps are favorites too. you are brushing your teeth all by your self, and barely need a boost to rinse anymore. You run like the dickens when its time for pajamas but you will say you are ready for bed and take my hand to help you get ready. You will be starting school soon. I’m a little nervous but I think we have found a good place for you. We are excited for you!
You are gonna be the flower girl in TiTi’s wedding. We are practicing with your multiple holloween costumes. And watching my little sister get married gives me glimpses of what it will be like to watch you marry, and watching you walk down the isle – as the flower girl, is by far going to be the highlight of my day.
You are officially our little lady. No longer a baby. Even when I cradle you like Darling cradles her baby and you laugh when I sing to you, you are only a baby in my memories. My little baby girl.

I tell you.
I’m feelin better.
I’m not moving around enough still. But the home is slowly coming together. Cammy’s school situation is coming to ahead. We’ve got a pretty good idea of what we want for Cammy, finding a place that fills those needs has proven challenging in our current budget. The funny thing is, Jerry and I are in the catch-22 level of finance. Just enough income to get NO HELP at all. We make too little to be financially secure, and to much to qualify for many programs designed to help get your kid into the school you want but can’t afford. I’m screwed cause I’m not jacked up. Thanks mom.  
Anyway, Jerry and I are learning the dance. I’m learning when to step in, when to back out. Its not as cut and dry as I had expected.
You know when you are young, you have all these dreams and expectations about marriage and men. You watch princess movies, and bad TV dramas, romantic comedies,  and you think you know what you want, what to expect. And then you grow up. And boys, don’t turn into the men we dreamed up. We do our damnedest to turn into the characters on TV, the princesses, ladies, the perfect blend of Claire Huxtable and Foxy Brown (that was my personal aim).  But the fellas, it never occurs to them – the majority – to be prince charming when they grow up, their mommas just want them to be ‘nice boys’.
Lucky bastards.
And then you think you’ve figured it out. You get your heart broken and while you are putting yourself back together you think – man, I’ve seen the light. I got a idea of how this works now, I got the dance down.  And you do the dance, get better at not getting broken – hopefully, and finally find somebody who you like to do the dance with.
You dance to the alter and figure out the song has changed, and the dance steps are a little different. And they keep changing. And your music interpretation is changing and so is his, so you gotta get him to tell you what he’s hearing and tell him what you are hearing. So everybody is stepping on two.
Well anyway, we are dancing together. I’m learning when to let him solo, when he needs me to, how to help him lead, how to support my frame, how to quick step, fox trot, and I like it. I like that we have some semblance of structure developing. Funny the same things they tell you children need to feel secure – grownups need too. Go figure.

I really want to take those dance classes I was talking about a few months ago.
Total side thought.
I went to visit a dance school. My husband will read this and go, “when did you do that?!?!”
A girl’s gotta have some kinda secrets.
I think I want some painting lesions for Christmas, my favorite artist gives lessons.
There is a easel I think I’m gonna pick up for my craft room.
My husband got a new suit for my sisters wedding, if he looks as good as I expect him too, I swear if we get through the whole day with out me ripping off his clothes I will have done my duty.

a girl and her NeNe
Originally uploaded by raquita.

As a woman I have always had friend issues. Trust issues. Afraid of being back stabbed. Always hearing my name amongst whispers in the hallway. Being the brunt of name calling. Guys, never had a problem with the guys in school, in life, didn’t catch a whole lot of flack unless they happened to be with a girl who was into giving me shit.
And there were a few Jennifer Wells, Pauletta Whitehorn, Trinette Jones, who gave me more than enough grief in high school. Their names stained in my brain, faces stamped in my nightmares for years. I remember trying to figure out why, I was the target. What transgression I had inflicted, what had I ever done to them?
It never really mattered, if you asked them now, they probably couldn’t tell you what my crime had been. At work recently, a co-worker recalled a girl who she and her friends made fun of constantly – her transgression – her eye brows. How she chose to wear her eye brows. I am ashamed that I didn’t call her on why that was a justifiable offense, when she has a two year old daughter she is raising right now. And I wonder if my daughter will have to face her child, and defend something as trivial as her eyebrows. So alas maybe they can remember. But it doesn’t matter it just made it hard for me to trust women in general. Made me question anybody who had something to say that was nice or kind, I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting to hear what they really thought. There were days where I snapped and kept the line relatively drawn. There were subjects you didn’t touch. Days I just wasn’t in the mood.
And it didn’t hurt that I wasn’t small. I was 5’7” 150lbs and on the basketball team. I was fit, and not afraid of being physical. But self conscious and thought I was a blimp. But I wasn’t trying to be suspended. In my school suspension (i.e. days absent) reflected on your grades, and I didn’t have any grades or days to spare.
Then I met Candy.
We were Sophomores I think. She was in band. She was pretty. And Smart. And just as damaged as I was. She was church mouse quiet. But a blast to hang out with. She and the group of friends we quilted together Curtis, John, Candy, Myself, Johns girlfriend, later my boyfriend, and sister and my sisters friend who then became John’s second girlfriend.
And I remember this because I remember how that group of people, especially Candy got me through those last years of high school. And I remember how devastated I was when she walked away.
She got pregnant when we were in college together. She had actually left me long before that but she seriously stopped talking to me then. Our friendship as teetered off and on since then, most days me waiting for her to need me, miss me, call me. Me calling because I need her, miss her, and my God daughter. They live just far enough away that I can’t just stop by and take them to lunch. She’s had a second child. She’s still the smart one, still pretty, still the one I look at with wonder. The distance by car seems to equal the one in our relationship, long when you think about it, but actually kinda short once you drive it.
I mention all of this because my currently best friend, Spoken, blogs too, she will read this when I post it to wordpress, I have mentioned her in many a post, good ones, and not so good ones. But she is my ace. There no matter what. Our friendship has been stretched, pulled, and pushed, taken its lumps but she is still here.
We are fundamentally different, yet the same. I feel safe in our friendship. She’s got to cut down the cursing with my kid around. And I think my kid picked up “Stupid ______!!!” from her. Which caught my attention when it was “stupid mommy”. But other wise…
I don’t believe she is just going to disappear. In the beginning I did. But slowly, surely, we have crafted something, solid, that will not simply be put away. For me it was simply a matter of wanting a friend more than I wanted to not be hurt. Things happened at all the right times I guess. I had recently had it out with Candy about the state of that friendship. And I had come to peace with it. Misunderstandings were understood, and I came to accept what she could offer me as my friend, and let go of what we used to be to each other. So when Spoken came, actually she was given to me, I was alright with the relationships with the other women in my life. My mother and I are closer than we have been since I was – shoot twelve. I am so close to my Aunt. My sister is my hands down absolute BEST FRIEND on the planet, the way your sister should be, in that cheesy TV sitcom kinda way. But Spoken she came and gave me what I was missing. Someone who honestly chooses to be your friend. And if I were to die tomorrow, I believe Spoken would be there to tell Cammy who I was. In ways that Jerry and my sister would not think to say, she would remember the things I would want Cammy to know, that I don’t know to tell anyone so they know.
And I the post I’ve linked to previously Spoken talks a little bit about how hard it is to share thing with me, because she values my opinion, and doesn’t want to disappoint me. That she envies my life and my relationship with my family.
What she doesn’t know is as much as I love my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
I envy hers as well.
Spoken is honestly one of the most honest – at least when she’s being honest with her self – brutally honest people I know. My mother is the only other person I know who doesn’t even own gloves to take off, that’s how real they keep it.
She is honorable. And she has this awesome work ethic I hope she helps me instill in Cammy. She is smart. And talented. She speaks several languages, plays classical cello, and is single and free to do anything and go any where. She wasn’t afraid to leave her family and go. My biggest wish is that she trusted me enough to play for us.
But I envy her freedom, not in a I would trade what I have for it, but – I wish I had it too – way.
The funny thing is she’s seen my yard up close, she knows where the brown spots are and how much work it takes to keep my grass green. Its grass, my special mix of grass seed that works for my yard. Granted I use a special fertilizer, made by that family she envies. But its no greener than any other yard. And I know the grass is not greener in her yard. I’ve seen hers up close, its green, just not greener than my grass. She makes my grass greener.
So what I want to say to you Spoken, is ours is not to envy as individuals, because you have been instrumental in my world it would not be what it is with out you, and I hope yours with out me.
Yes I want you to relax and be happy and have fun, because I remember what it was when I was in your exact place, and regret is not something I want you to find after you settle down. My regrets are few and very far between, mostly because I chose to live! and I am still trying to hold that choice close to me. Enjoy the life you have been blessed with, ENJOY it. You do not get extra time later. Today is what you will remember tomorrow. This is what scares me for you, if I was ever to be disappointed, that would be why. If you live and die with regrets – real ones not the silly ones we spot in the middle of the night over Greys reruns, that would make me sad. Make it count, Spoken.