Living the life of a middle class, middle management, mid-atlantic spinster about Awesometown...Holding on desperately to the Handlebars of Fierceness!!!

A Spinster in Awesometown

Where random is the name of the game...

Yes. I have problems. Leo can solve them though. #tmnt #geekflow #thingsthatmakemehappy

Absolute Joy!! After one bite of this apple turnover, my Nneka-bird is in heaven! #truejoy #foodislife

Awesome day riding through Brooklyn. Essence Block party, #smorgasbord, someone’s ultra custom lock for their new love. #spinsterjaunts #localtruth #brooklyn

The Democratic primary candidates are out in force, and stay stationed near my building. I wonder if I should tell them I am not a registered Democrat…

#repost so no air media coverage of the “happenings” in MO. They aren’t even being subtle with the propaganda now. #iamvaluable #iammikebrown

TMNT (ala Michael Bay): 3 stars. Hot garbage, but thoroughly entertaining as only the Bayster can accomplish with weak actors, no discernible plot, cheesy dialogue, and lots of Over The Top everything! I think I liked it and I’m ashamed.

Reasons why I get undressed as soon as I walk in my house and Lysol my couch once a week…

How I became a Prude…(or Why I pee on sticks)

**originally posted 2.22.11 on**

Birth control pills are credited with beginning the sexual revolution. Before that, women had to consult the local ju ju man and hope the twigs and berries provided an effective barrier to Jon Jon’s little swimmers.

Now I could get into the socio-political ramifications of birth control, the forced sterilization of women of color across the world, the dearth of active birth control use in African and African-American communities, the overuse of abortion as an active birth control method…but I’m not. Mostly cause I don’t wanna right now. Right now, I want to talk about why my cookie is being put away in the extra special cookie jar nowadays.

Birth Control. Thats it.

That’s the only reason. I don’t want babies right now. Maybe ever. I haven’t decided yet. Now, and only now, the lessons of abstinence and sexual repression of my Baptist/Catholic upbringing are coming to a head (no pun intended).

Now, I’m an 80′s baby in that I do not remember the 70′s being >2 years old. So I grew up with ready access and information to and about pills, condoms, IUD’s, Norplants, patches, and all other medieval forms of keeping Hotel Utero vacant. Even my Catholic high school had many and varied resources – mostly aimed at keeping the Gatekeeper and Keymaster apart.

So I began my sexual journey with lots of ammunition against those pin headed microcosms included in my current boyfriends junk. And I was bulletproof. Except for an unfortunate puppy love experience that left me in Paterson NJ with no car, no money, an engagement ring I bought myself and a two month resident in Hotel Utero who promptly got evicted, it’s been smooth sailing with me, men and my hormonal buddies. Those stories are for another blog post; suffice it to say “Mother Had LIIIIVVVEEEDDDD”!

For the next 10 or so years, I did what I wanted, when I wanted, with whomever I wanted, and made NO apologies for it. I learned to double up*, so I could control my own reproductive schedule. No man, and no faulty latex, would prevent me from remaining child-free.

I noticed something about 2.5 years ago. My constant hormonal buddies caused undue strife in my life when their purpose was the exact opposite. I begin reacting violently to the artificial hormones I was putting in my body every 3 weeks out of 4. And by violently, I mean disabling migraines and body shaking cramps and 100 degree fevers and crushing emotional break downs….Me No Likey.

My doctor and I discussed the alternatives, and I pushed for a copper IUD. No sooner than I’d had it in, than my side effects started….basically I became anemic among the REST of my other issues.

So I finally I had to make a choice: either continue to deal with all these life altering effects of using birth control, or let go and let some dude try and get through that condom God. In choosing the latter, I also had to review my selection of partners. I had to ask the questions of whether I would risk being tied to this man forever? Did I want him influencing any potential child? Did I trust him enough to do the right thing for a child? Would his career path and ambition (or lack of it) affect mine and how I raise my child? Can I afford to do this on my own if I needed to?

Invariably, the answers to one or more of those questions was negative. All of a sudden, sexy wasn’t enough. His swag and potential was less important than the education and current earning potential. The “bitch” jokes weren’t as funny, nor was the fact that he might not like his mother or sisters.

Suddenly every sexual relationship could be forever. How was I possibly more scared of the child than HIV? Crazy.

But this was my path. I’m glad my life worked out the way it did, because I wouldn’t want to be anyone else right now. And the smallest things suddenly make the biggest difference.

*double-up: meaning to use two disparate forms of birth control; usually defined as the use of a condom and the pill.

Happy Side Chick’s Day to me. Wait what?!

What happened to an acquaintance of mine on Saturday at an event we were at.  Such food for thought.  Reevaluating my situationship and the fear of losing something I don’t really have.



I always swore to myself that I wanted my writing to be as transparent as possible.

I’ve agonized over whether or not to cover personal situations in my life that I didn’t want exposed due to the fact it could really harm me in REAL Life.  I use aliases to protect the innocent and the guilty.

But today’s story is going to be a little different.

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