Resting Bitch Face?

Who coined this term? Why did it become so popular? Why is it so well-received?

Here’s the story in my head:
One day, there was a wonderful black woman on her way from work to get home and continue her wonderful life.  On this particular day, she decided to stop at the store because one of her wonderful dependents called and requested she picked up something that was absolutely necessary for living that particular evening. So -as usual- she complies.  This wonderful woman had worked 10hour days that week in effort to meet very important deadlines for projects.  So she stops at this store and gets out her car and walks her walk.  The walk that says I am tired and overwhelmed but you will never know it because I am working these heels like I just stepped out of your favorite magazine. Now, normally, this wonderful woman is bubbly and welcoming and warm and approachable.  However, on this day, she is tired.  No other word to describe it; she’s just tired.  So she enters and smiles the “I got this” smile and proceeds to whatever aisle that holds the product requested. There’s a man in this store who notices this wonderful woman.  He notices that she’s not noticing him.  He -of course- who is also wonderful.  He is also desired by many.  So, for her to not notice him, something must be wrong.  So he positions himself to be noticed, and she does.  notice him.  She is not there for whatever his expectations are though. She is on a mission: to purchase the requested product and proceed to her destination of home.  Her smile doesn’t say “omg! he’s noticing me! let me get ready for whatever wonderful words he’s concocting in his mind right now“.  No, instead her smile -if visible- simply says “hello. I see you standing there and I wish you the best in your endeavors“.  Well, this man, who is also wonderful sees that smile as “please walk away and don’t f**k with me today.  I’m not in the mood for you or your bs pickup lines.”
Now, if Mr. Wonderful could simply step past his own fears, approach her with “good afternoon. you have a beautiful smile.  how are you today?”  that would have made Ms. Wonderful stop and say “good afternoon, thank you so much.  I’m doing well. how are you?”  which would lead to a quick dialog and even possibly a conversation.
No, instead Mr. Wonderful got intimidated somehow and grabbed hold of the fear of rejection, opted out of approaching Ms. Wonderful and then mentally diagnosed her with “resting bitch face“. Meaning, “she looked like she got an attitude and no one wants to deal with that“.  He then went on home and told his wonderful friends about this moment and told them about his diagnosis of her “resting bitch face” which, of course, they all understood because they too have succumbed to their fear of rejection and opted out of approaching many Ms. Wonderfuls over time.  So this diagnosis of “resting bitch face” made all the sense to them all.
Now, what if she had diagnosed him with “little dick courage“.  Meaning something within these wonderful men made them “shrink” into themselves and run from possibilities instead of becoming mentally and emotionally erect and approaching her. Which could have resulted in a “conversational quickie” that could have eventually led to a physical and psychological union.
But nope.  The woman gets the blame for the failure in making a possibility a reality.
Resting bitch face” is a foolish phrase created to help men opt out of dealing with (possible) rejection.

Have I used the term. Yes.  Will I stop? done.

Ladies, it’s not you. Not this time. It’s them.

Men, it’s not us. It’s you.  I promise not all of us are bitches.  Roses have thorns.  Don’t avoid the rose bush.  Just pick carefully.

rose bush

I needed this…

Hotel room all to myself just because: check

Top floor room all the way from “the noise” of it all: check. (How did he know that’s what I needed? Maybe I just looked like I wanted to be left alone).

Bottle of Bailey’s Chocolate Cherry: check (girl at the store said me getting carded was a compliment cause I “don’t look over 30”. This kid totally made my day)

A brand new glass cause I refuse to drink my Bailey’s out of one of these plastic cups: check

Pizza and spicy wings: check

Cable TV: ckeck

Back to back to back episodes of “Insecure”: check

I needed this. This one night away. From it all. The noise.  No explanation why I needed this night.  No excuses why. No justifications. I’m not here for any of that. All I know is I needed this.  Hell, I might even try watching Game of Thrones  (if I’m awake)

This moment. This entire night. 

Just sit for a while

So,

I saw the clouds get dark. It was 5pm so I exchanged the last few words for the day with my boss, said goodbye, put my laptop away, grabbed my things and headed down. Well, I get to the first floor and UGH! It’s pouring!  Well, no worries. It’s Florida rain. It won’t last long.  A few minutes and I’ll be able to walk to my car in the sunshine. 

No

Such

Thing.

I’ve been sitting here for an hour and it’s only gotten worse. This isnt just passing showers. Whatever this is looks like it should be named…. “Tropical Storm Donald” (yep. on purpose).  Not dangerous like a hurricane or tornado. But bad enough for you to hesitate about dealing with it. So you sit and wait it out….. I digress

Sigh.

I’m not anxious or worried.  I see this as an opportunity to just sit. And write. 

The lobby is getting full now…people who planned on just running to their cars and just carrying on with their evening plans are now conversing -by will or by force. 

And it’s getting no better.

Sidenote: I still get so tickled seeing these grown men in their business attire, with a backpack on. 

Well, it finally eased up. Gonna go stroll to my car before it kicks up again. 

facepalm

…..in regards to the latest interview of the current president…and his late-night tweets…because I have so much to say but know that none of it matters right now. so I’ll leave Bugs Bunny right here.

facepalm

addicted to knowledge

Hi, I’m Dee and I’m addicted to knowledge.

This year alone, I’ve become addicted to politics and now TED Talks, and possibly podcasts; that’s still up in the air.

I completely blame the people of this Great America (made “great again” by the current leader) for my addiction to politics.  Never before this most recent election was I ever sincerely interested in politics.  But there was so much wrong and outrageous about this election and it’s candidates that I found myself glued to the news -tv, radio and internet-  for updates on points and who’s favorable and who’s not and how tired are the people of the same old politics and their desire for something/someone new….to the point that they made such a strange/outrageous/desperate/interesting choice.  And so after the choice was made, I then became addicted to keeping up with his doings.  and dear lord, he has kept this great America quite “entertained”.  Life on a whole has pulled me away from keeping up with politics as much as I have over the past 9 or 10 months.  But I don’t think I’ve lost my now embedded interest.  I’m hooked.

I love intelligence. I love hearing people speak intelligently.  I love reading intelligence written in various forms from poetry to prose to blogs (which is why I chose wordpress) to short stories to books.  I love being invited to share their thoughts/beliefs/views/opinions intelligently.  I have said it once and I’ll say it a million times, intelligence is a requirement for whichever men I date.  they don’t have to have a BA, MS, PhD, (preferred but not required) but he has to be able to initiate and hold intelligent conversations.  Hence my addiction to TED Talks. I absolutely love listening to these speeches (every one of the those I’ve listened so far…purposely selected).  Also, I am a member of the Toastmasters International Club and listening to these various speeches from a wide array of people from different levels and places  is a great attraction for me.

Now podcasts.  this is still new….kinda.  It’s like listening to tv as opposed to watching it.  I listened to one “Homecoming” a couple days ago.  listened as I worked. I was hooked at the first episode and listened to all six episodes.  now looking forward to season 2.  I’ve done a quick search to see what else is out there to catch my interests, but nothing yet.  I’ll go back to my Flipboard article and see what is recommended.

So yea, hi.  I’m Dee.  and I’m an addict…of KNOWLEDGE.  because knowledge is power and we have become powerless and the more the days go by, the more power we lose and we’ve become so inundated by foolishness of 3a.m. tweets by our “fearless” leader and whether or not he did wrong and whether or not his son did wrong and whether or not he’s going to make it through the full 4 years or if he’ll be voted in for a second term and we’re so involved in this political reality tv show that we are no longer aware of what WE ARE NOT AWARE OF.   but then we take the time to listen and get caught up and brush up on what we aren’t aware of and it’s so deep and dark and sad and crazy and ridiculous and sad and sad and sad……that we willingly, voluntarily go back to purposely being inundated….. and this is where  the addiction comes in.  you come out of it to deal with reality and reality is too much to handle, so you go back under…

I’m addicted to knowledge, not because I don’t want to deal.  I’m addicted because I want to be aware. Our political climate is nuts, but what else is going on? How are others viewing this? What are their thoughts and opinions on this?  How can I best navigate around/through this? How can I help my daughters through this.  I’m constantly in a “need to know” mode.

So yes, again, I’m Dee, and I’m an addict, of Knowledge.

knowledge

the milk is done

and no one called to say “hey while you’re out, pick some up” knowing that I have this baby who needs her milk. knowing that they use the milk just as much as she does. the milk is done. and as I pour the last of it in her bottle I feel myself get mad. I’m mad because it’s done and I thought ahead to purchase another bottle, but if I hadn’t, this would be it. and I would fuss and they would look at me like “well, why are you carrying on like this. we didn’t mean it. you know we didn’t mean it. it’s not big deal.”  the milk is done. and I’m mad.  and I feel the pressure in my chest and head and I stop and breathe because I realize it’s not about the milk being done. it’s not about there not being enough milk. it’s about me being tired. it’s not about them not thinking enough, it’s about me always having to think ahead.  it’s not about the milk not being enough. it’s about me not being enough. or feeling like I’m not.  It’s about me continuously being in planning mode -continuously checking my “gps for the best and fastest route” to take, while everyone else is in cruise-control.  It’s about me trying and ending up in these proverbial traffic jams…watching the time and wondering when will I get to where I want/need to be.  Why are they in cruise control?  why don’t they care?   It’s about me constantly putting myself off, constantly putting my needs off. constantly putting what everyone else needs and thinks ahead of what I need.

who taught me to do that? where did I learn that trait?

It’s about me continuously counseling myself. continuously in my own head ….this is o.k. ….. God is giving you all that you need to survive these moments.  even the the gps moments….to think ahead to stop and pick up the milk and the bread …… because you are the provider.  God provides for you so you can provide for your household. He gives you the strength to do it all.

the milk was done and so was I.

because in that moment all I saw was me doing…..and doing…..and thinking….and planning…..

and after placing my palms on the counter and taking a deep breath and counseled myself into the “everything is o.k…..things could be a lot worst….my home is still my safe haven that I look forward to being in”… I continued.

the milk was done. but I wasn’t.  I continued my nightly chores and got ready for the next day.  I continued my moment of mom and head-of-household.  I continued planning and moving.  I continued.

milk is done

A Happy Birthday

There is so much power in the spoken word. I believe it because I’ve lived it so many times. 

My family and friends asked “what do you want to do for your birthday?” I answered everytime with “nothing. I want to do nothing except sit on my sofa in comfortable pjs watch movies and eat pizza. That’s it.” Don’t want to go out to dinner. Didn’t want cake. Don’t necessarily want everyone over. I just wanted to sit and be quiet.  Well I got my birthday wish. Not exactly how I thought. But it happened nonetheless.

I spent my birthday on a sofa with my family, laughing and talking and watching tv. 

Except this sofa was in a hospital room next to a hospital bed that my father laid in.   The day before as he laid waiting for the doctor to arrive, as I cleaned his face and his hands, I told him “dad you’re making this a habit…a yearly thing now…”  he just chuckled.  We were there. My mom, me, a couple of my siblings…the aces. You know, the ones. The team. We were there. And as we sat talking and laughing then too, I said “daddy, you’re messing up my birthday” and he said “I know it baby” but he really wasn’t.  This birthday went exactly the way it was supposed to. The sweetest nurses and techs. The doctors were alright… but the right specialist/surgeon came his way. We held hands and prayed each night before we walked away and the nurse joined our circle of prayer on the second night. We did shift-change like we were on staff cause as as amazing as the nurses and techs were, none of them could sit with just him. He wasn’t their only priority there. But he was ours. 

So my birthday came and I was so tired, but I woke up to my mom and kids in the house because I took my mom home with me the night before. We didn’t want her home by herself.  My birthday started with the woman who gave me life and the daughters that I gave life to. That was a Great way to start my day. Then later I got to sit on a sofa with my family -including my kids, cause they needed to see their grandpa and just seeing them was medicine enough for him- and laugh and talk and watch tv…and even though my day ended with my toddler throwing up in the car on our way home -I didn’t let that bother me either because I watched her dance and sing “Happy Happy Woo!” (her rendition of happy birthday) all day and eat a little of everything until her little stomach gave up…and I closed my evening bathing her and washing the entire carseat system and cleaning the backseat of the car….seeing all this now, man, that was a long weekend!!! Yet, I have no regrets. No sadness.  My dad is back home. In his own bed. Next to his very own wife/nurse/caregiver. And….

 Dear God, I thank you for seeing my dad through this another scary moment and for strategically placing the right people in the right places at the right time ….from the EMTs who transported him to the hospital to the every hospital staff member who tended to him… and for this amazing family that I’m a part of.  And God I thank You for not taking my dad from us.

This was truly one of the best birthdays ever.