i've decided that there needs to a simple, informative, and to-the-point book about women and their bodies. a quick guide book women can put on a shelf, nightstand, or in a desk drawer. something that introduces us to common occurrences with our bodies. let me explain: yesterday i go to the doctor. something with my body has been off for about a year now. (note: if you're not ready for the too much information segment, this is the part where you'll want to stop reading). i been having weird pains and abnormal bleeding... yesteday the doctor told me that i may have a cyst. now, not only did i have to ask her what a cyst was and where it came from, but i think she was trying to conceal her thoughts on how serious it is until i have an ultrasound. i asked her if it was large and she said yes. but i don't know if it is abnormally larger, dangerously large, etc. etc. you get the picture. my point is- here i am a young woman who's never had serious health issues, dealing with a doctor who either doesn't know how to break bad news or isn't the best at communicating with distraught patients. but someone/something needs to teach women like myself (fortunately, i have a mother who's been through this several times) what these basic health issues are, how serious they are, and what types of questions we should ask a physician to fully comprehend the situation at hand. because it took me three conversations with three women to feel even slightly at each, while i paid a doctor a lot of money to leave me hanging. i can only imagine what this would be like for women who are young, or who know nothing at all about their bodies. i can only think of how for the past several months i've been in pain and ignoring it because i barely stood still long enough notice. i'm even more frustrated with the doctor...

"Something New"

last night some friends and I went to see the movie "Something New"... i'm not sure how i feel. it's nothing like crash, where you leave the theatre wondering what the hell happened; whether you should be happly that racial predjudices are being exposed through the mass media or pissed off that the white man who sexually assaulted the black woman (whose husband had a conk!) redeemed himself by saving her life. or maybe it was the same... the same catch 22. on the one hand. the movie is extremely entertaining, tapping into the fantasies of young, heterosexual, single middle-class/professional black women frustrated with the lack of men at their "level" (aka with a college degree, job, property owning, etc.). the movie's characters are relateable (is that even a word?): they're intellegent and successful, bourgeois but still able to have a good time. but there is an interesting message that permeates the film. we can't have it all without a partner. even if we have perfectly good friends. more importantly, that we can't find that ideal mate who is our socioeconomic equal. two of the women in the movie find a mate. one is the protagonist's friend, who marries a black cook she meets at a rich white woman's engagement party. the other is the protagonist, who finds the perfect man --who is white. once again, i can acknowledge that this has always been a secret fantasy of mine. however, he isn't just her dream man; he helps her become her TRUE SELF. this is where "Something New's" "what the fuck?" moment occurs. first, he is aparently everything black women (and black men) apparently can't be: free-spirited hippies who connect with "the folk" through community gardens, nature lovers, dog lovers, and willing to drift from corporate america. then, there's the moment when he tells her he wants to see her completely naked- aka without a weave. finally, there's the complete transformation she takes emotionally, spiritually and physically once with him - a process she apparently couldn't undergo on her own or with her friends. so what messages does this send to black women and, more interestingly, people who aren't black women (or black men)? is it worth being mad? or should i just be happy to see a black woman protagonist in a "positive" role?

today i've made a new discovery: hormones are a bitch. actually, i already knew about it. but today is the first time i've decided to put it in writing. every month, around or during that time of the month i become increasingly irritable. maybe i'm preaching to the choir... i hate those moments when you (i) realize that you've just snapped at someone or gotten annoyed with someone for something that normally wouldn't even bother you. and it's not like there's a switch to turn off- you're stuck with the pissy mood until another one takes over. so, this morning i wake up only to become pissy five minutes later... part of it was for a good reason. but another part was this uncontrollable feeling of irritation that stayed with me for the rest of the morning, only to slip into self pity. i'm not normally like this. i don't like being like this. it's 70degrees and sunny outside with a perfect wind- yet i just want to take a nap.

p.s. this isn't to validate any assertions men like to make about women regarding pms. they get pissy and moody just as often. what's their excuse?

just came from a faculty-student discussion on the doctoral program. one of the professors was a black woman in social work, who studied intervention among vicitms of domestic violence who were substance abusers. an interesting comment: she noted that, in the process of studying/researching substance abusers, she had become a substance abuser. her substance was her research. we all laughed at her comment because it was true and a bit scary. how many times do we let ourselves become so wrapped-up in our work that it becomes our sole driver? how many times do we let it become so important that we put it before food/sleep/free-time/breathing? of course, i can't relate to this entirely. i still welcome every distraction i can get from work. not that i don't enjoy; but because i crave social interaction in a new place that is still becoming familiar. come to think of it- i was the only first year in the room. maybe its a warning for the future... food for thought.