My First Post.

Happy Friday

'Don't talk about what you're doing; just do it..and after you do it, don't talk about what you did.'

We were in the back of a limosine, cruising down the Henry Hudson Parkway; sipping champagne and exchanging friendly laughs. It was an unseasonably chilly, October night. While the wind was bitter and biting, the back of the limo was warm and wonderful. The destination: Morton's Steakhouse. The occassion: my ex-lover, was treating his co-workers to a fancy dinner in Manhattan to show his appreciation for them. October was an incredibly successful month for his whole team. Everyone was beaming, borderline tipsy and seemingly in pure bliss over the occassion. I shared this same bliss, but not because of the new money rolling in: I was in love for the very first time. The ride uptown was memorable, full of laughing, cuddling and bonding. Akon and Snoop Dogg's 'I Wanna Love You,' was the new song out and he must have put it on repeat 22 times during that ride. He was singing it to me, with a seductive smile-while screwing up the lyrics. I blushed in delight while laughing at how he had 'remixed' a new version. These were the days of suspenseful romantic candor. The present was a gift and we were anticipating a promising future together. But, those past thoughts of a unified future are presently non-existant. (We broke up last year)

In between sips of champagne, Barry, his co-worker, began to sing praises to him; and then the choir joined in, upstaging him and speaking of his phenomenal success with securing insane amounts of new business. Everyone went home with fat-checks for the holiday season. This made him 'the man' of the hour. And that, he was. More importantly, he was MY man. I chimed into his ear, loving words of approval and encouragement, while slipping kisses on his lips and exchanging multiple love gazes. I laid my head on his chest, reclining on him and rubbing his leg. We couldn't keep our hands off of eachother. In the midst of the praise-talk, he and I began discussing people who 'talk the talk but can't walk the walk.' Those people who discuss their plans over and over again, and never make a move. The owners of the defered dreams that Langston Hughes so eloquently described. After exchanging laughs and exchanging some disdainful commentary on folks that 'talk a good game,' we came up with our motto. It represented the importance of action; execution; making it happen. We slapped eachother up in agreeance, and said it in unison: 'Don't talk about what you're doing; just do it..and after you do it, don't talk about what you did,' and then exchanged smiles. For months on in, we would re-affirm eachother with that same quote: using it as the ending in multiple e-mails. This little 'quote' was a special way that we shared our ambitions. This quote reminded the both of us to be 'doers' of our words. He, a young, Black man doing big things in the mortgage finance world; me, a promising student on an unchartered path to success. We both knew the signifigance of the statement. It was poignent, yet really simple.

The ex I speak of, broke me into many of my very 'first' romantic experiences. He was my first love, first sexual partner, my first time being nervous about 'meeting parents,' and even my first designer handbag was from him. And my first heartbreak. He had me completely open, in every sense of the word. I never knew the same love that felt so good to my heart, could hurt me so deeply. Being that he was my 'first' and this is my first-post, he segwayed into it pretty nicely.

So, finally, no more bullshitting.

When I thought of our 'quote,' and the importance of this blog, many commonalities arose. The same time, dedication and effort I put into my first relationship, I am putting into my first blog. As I type, at 11:09am, I'm making it happen, and I am ready to share. For the past four months, my 'outlet' has been Microsoft Word on my work computer. The 'Manifested Thoughts' folder has an overflow of...well...manifested thoughts. But, not just thoughts-feelings, emotions, obervations and experiences. For the past three months, I've been 'brainstorming' titles, tag-names, ideas: setting the framework for this thing. It feels so damn good to sit here and actually put thought into action. It feels good to 'just do it.'

Final thoughts:

'You will always forget what a person says or does, but you will never forget the way someone makes you feel.'

I read that in a random e-mail my mother forwarded to me a few months back. It struck a chord in my heart. As I reminisce, I feel myself reliving that conversation in the back of the limosine with my ex-love. And, in spite of the pain and pitfalls that man put me through...that magical night still brings back those good feelings. Am I living in the past? Na; just taking a mental step-back in time. Nothing wrong with that.

Every 'ex-perience' does serve it's purpose.