Musings by Melissa

Thoughts by yours truly. Discussions about films, religion, music, fashion, fun times and life in general. Not an authority, just my opinions.

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [Runs on 10.8.16 and 10.12.16]

My half marathon is in two days. At this time in two days, I will have run the farthest I’ve ever run. I will have accomplished something I never thought I would do, something I never thought I would have had the desire to do. It’s wild to think about, to reflect on how I even got to this point. Back to when the germ of this idea of running long distances just to run was implanted in my brain. Way back to when I was a teenager and chased after my older sister at her high school 5k cross country meets, trying to get the best picture of her in motion.

I decided I needed to run 11 miles on Saturday, to really feel like I was getting a good idea of what running 13 miles would look like. (I haven’t really been following a training plan, I’ve just been upping the amount of time I’ve run, like 60 mins for several weeks, increasing it to 90 mins, 120 mins, and so forth.) I wanted to finish 11 miles in 2 hours and 15 minutes, based on how I had been running before, and I was pumped to meet the feat. 

I ran the first four miles of the 11 mile stint entirely too fast...as I have been on most of all my longer runs. Why can’t I remember to run slower? It sets me up to get really tired throughout the rest of the run. I think I’m running at the pace I need, but in actuality, I’m running 45 seconds faster per mile than I should. So for the rest of my run, I purposely slowed down, walked some (more than I wanted) and finished in 2 hours and 24 mins. I think I walked the equivalence of one mile, maybe 1.5 miles, dropping my time to 13:10/mile, from the 11:30/mile time I was aiming for. But you know what, I’m really proud of that time, and even though I walked some, I never stopped moving and I never stopped being determined to finish. 

I’m hoping to finish the half between 2 hours and 30 mins to 2 hours and 45 mins, so I have *have* *have* to be sure to pay attention to my pace. I wonder if we’ll have pacers for us...

There would have been more than a week of downtime between running on Saturday and the race on Sunday, and because of a little disappointment about my Saturday run, I decided to get my butt up on Wednesday morning before work and run four miles. I needed a good run for my confidence. And of course, I started my run too fast...smh. I looked down and saw I had run the first 2.5 miles in 25 mins, 10 min miles!!! I was really impressed, of course, I never thought I could run a 10 minute mile. But then the last 1.5 miles I ran considerably slower. I’m training for a half, for goodness sake. I’m not in the shape to keep up a 10min/mile pace for 13 miles. I finished my four miles in under 45 minutes *does cabbage patch dance* That run really accomplished what I needed it to do. I felt a little tired after the run, but I felt like I could keep running, which is good, since I’m not only running four miles on Sunday.

Bring it on Detroit, bring it on half marathon, bring it on rain (well, not too much rain, please), and bring it on thoughts, cause I’m ready to kick some ass!!!

[melissaclay]

My half marathon is in just over a month...eeek!!

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [Written on 8.30.16, Ran on 8.29.16]

90 minutes of running without stopping has been my goal for a couple weeks. A friend told me her half marathon training was to focus on how long she could run, in order to build her endurance, and not to focus so much on how many miles she ran at a time. If she could build her endurance, she figured she could run just long distances. So I adapted this style of training. 

I’ve been running 60 minutes straight with no walking, and I feel good when I finish. I feel strong enough to continue running, but for time constraints or weather preventing me, I’ve stopped at running only an hour. Last Wednesday, I ran 70 minutes, going 6 miles, but I had walked about 3 minutes halfway through. Now, of course, if I need to walk for a little in order to finish a race, then so be it. But I saw myself stopping to walk as a failure of some sort, like, I felt okay enough not to stop, so why had I? Bottom line, I think it’s because I just got lazy and lost focus. So I was determined to reach my goal of 90 minutes running the next time I ran.

My next scheduled run was for Saturday morning. I love running on Saturday mornings, because it’s cool enough before the Chicago humidity sets in, and I usually don’t have anything else to do right after, so I can sleep to my heart’s content. But this particular Saturday morning was hindered, most definitely because I didn’t go to bed until 3:30am the previous night (or technically, earlier that morning). I woke up around 9am and still felt tired, I tried to get running around 11am, but maybe it was going to rain? I was determined to run around 2pm, but really, my heart wasn’t in it. I felt sluggish the entire day, and then I had to get ready for my friends’ party that evening. So I’ll run tomorrow after church, I thought. Or so I thought. You see, the reason I was out late on Friday was because I was on a date, and then, I made plans with that same said date for Sunday afternoon after church...my running plans for the weekend were pretty much out the window. But I rationalized it, since Monday there for sure would be no rain and I would have more than enough time to run after work.

Monday came, and I felt really good. I had gotten enough sleep, I made sure not to eat or drink any dairy, I had a brisket bowl for breakfast, full of potatoes, eggs, and brisket, which was everything I needed to fuel a 90 minute run. That bowl kept me full for about 5 hours. I ate a cobb salad for a late lunch, full of more protein and veggies to give me strength as I ventured out on the longest run of my life. And then I looked out the work’s window. And I saw the sun give way to the clouds and the darkness come over the city. And I thought, noooo, I have to run today! My last run had been 5 days prior, so I wanted to build on my previous 6 mile run, and if I had waited any longer, it would be harder to capitalize on that run. By the time I got home to change, it was sprinkling, but I was committed to running, whether rain or shine. I told myself it was my fault that I didn’t run on Saturday, so running in the rain was my punishment, but was also going to be my motivator. I grabbed a plastic bag to house my cell phone (and I need a waterproof case) and set out. I usually walk a 5-min warm up, but because of the threatening rain, I shortened it to just 2-mins, and started my run. I’m always encouraged by the other people out there running, so I’m glad they were still out there to support me as I ran along. And the sprinkles kept falling, the clouds stayed overhead, but the storm never materialized. I finished my run! 94 minutes and no walking, running 8 miles!! It was a little painful toward the end, as I got a cramp(?) or pulled a muscle(?). But I kept on putting one foot in front of the other and listening to Israel and the New Breed on repeat to help propel me. Yesterday was the first day I really felt like I will be able to finish this half marathon within my goal. So yeah, I’m super pumped.

[melissaclay]

Daniel Hill at Missio Dei Uptown

Daniel Hill of River City Church in Chicago came to speak to my church at Missio Dei Uptown back in July, about Christians’ role in racial reconciliation and how God feels about justice and righteousness in regarding this. You can read up about Daniel Hill and his work in Chicago here: https://pastordanielhill.com/about/ I’m going to share some notes on his talk here below.

One of the ways Hill began teaching us was to speak of his journey and initial thoughts about racial injustice in America. He thought he would be the one to save the world, as we all do, when we learn of such horrendous injustices. It’s easy to be horrified, appalled, indignant, and to jump to conclusions of how to reach racial harmony, moving full-steam ahead without stopping to think of how God wants to move in a situation. It wasn’t until he met with older pastors in the community that he realized, is he even seeing the situation clearly and correctly?

In John 3, Nicodemus is marveling to Jesus about the signs He performs, but Jesus doesn’t seem to concerned with this praise. He wants to know if Nicodemus sees the kingdom of God, which is of utmost importance. Do we see correctly the kingdom of God? Instead of us asking, “What should I do,” we should ask “What should I see more correctly?”

In America, there’s the battle of the doctrine of Imago Dei (God’s given us, all humans His image, inherent glory, inherent worth, and inherent value) and the narrative of racial differences. We are all made in God’s image, and humans are the only ones made in His likeness: Genesis 1:26-27. C. S. Lewis discusses this in his book The Weight of Glory, “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses...There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” If we truly believed this and operated from this standpoint, we wouldn’t want to subject others and try to put them lower than ourselves, because we ascribe to everyone being worthy, as God Himself is worthy. Psalm 8:4-5 says, “What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.” So what happens when we don’t believe this? When our mindset is to build ourselves up by trampling others who we don’t think are like us? We get this phenomenon called the narrative of racial differences.

Bryan Stevenson coined this phrase in Just Mercy, “The whole narrative of white supremacy was created during the era of slavery. It was a necessary theory to make white Christian people feel comfortable with their ownership of other human beings. And we created a narrative of racial difference in this country to sustain slavery, and even people who didn’t own slaves bought into that narrative, including people  in the North...So this narrative of racial difference has done really destructive things in our society. Lots of countries had slaves, but they were mostly societies with slaves. We became something different, we became a slave society. We created a narrative of racial difference to maintain slavery. And our 13th Amendment never dealt with that narrative. It didn’t talk about white supremacy. The Emancipation Proclamation doesn’t discuss the ideology of white supremacy or the narrative of racial difference, so I don’t believe slavery ended in 1865, I believe it just evolved. It turned into decades of racial hierarchy that was violently enforced -- from the end of reconstruction until WWII -- through acts of racial terror. And in the North, that was tolerated. And so we are very confused when we start talking about race in this country because we think that things are ’of the past’ because we don’t understand what these things really are, that narrative of racial difference that was created during slavery that resulted in terrorism and lynching, that humiliated, belittled and burdened African Americans throughout most of the 20th century. The same narrative of racial difference got Michael Brown killed, got Eric Garner killed and got Tamir Rice killed. That got these thousands of others -- of African Americans -- wrongly accused, convicted and condemned. It is the same narrative that has denied opportunities and fair treatment to millions of people of color, and it is the same narrative that supported and led to the executions in Charleston.” Basically, the people who were in power made sure to ascribe value to certain racial differences, promoting value to white people. The foundation of our country in the Declaration of Independence preamble says one thing, but in other part of the document, it says another: “...the Inhabitants of our Frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known Rule of Warfare, is an undistinguished Destruction, of all Ages, Sexes and Conditions.”

Let’s remember, the narrative of racial difference didn’t end after slavery, it just evolved.

So what do we do with all this information? Where do you go from here, to not be undone with despair? We don’t need to prove if we’re individually good or bad because we all breathe this air of the narrative of racial difference. But we can ask, How do I see how this narrative being played out in our society? In education, in policing, in housing, in financial aspects, etc? It doesn’t matter if we’re not on the “wrong side,” because we live in a society that is affected by the narrative of racial difference and systemic structures that value people differently.

We can also repent and think. Repent and pensive are derived from the same root word meaning “thinking.” Reflect and repent that we’ve been affected by this narrative, and ask God to help you see clearly how He wants His kingdom on earth to be brought. 

Please know, racial and cultural differences on earth will be reflected in heaven, so differences are good and God-given. The problem is when we assign value to certain differences.

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [8.24.16]

As I ran this morning, the Lord pressed on me: if He can help me do something physical I never imagined I could or would even do, like completing a half marathon, what are the things He has for me to do spiritually that I never thought I could or would do?? He reminds me the possibilities are endless and just that: possible. I just have to move out of the way...

[melissaclay]

Feeling super strong. Just finished 5 miles in an hour. Just over a 12-min mile!!! #halfmarathontraining

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [7.27.16]

I ran a smooth conversational 5k this morning. My goal is to run a 12-min mile for the half marathon, and right now I'm at a little over 13 minutes. I think I can do this!

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [7.19.16]

A friend once told me I’m not introspective. She pretty much told me I move through life without thought of why I do the things I do, or how what I say could affect people. Being extroverted, I saw she had a point. I typically make quick decisions based on rationale or how I feel, and I keep it moving. I didn’t really contemplate why I did the things I did, I just did them cause they made sense. Not being thoughtful of my actions and statements never got me in trouble before, but now that I’m older and I find myself in deeper relationships, and dealing with people who aren’t necessarily like me, I find that being introspective helps me a great deal.

It’s especially helping me with my training. This morning I ran 5 miles (woohoo!) and I felt totally accomplished after I finished. But during my run, my goodness, I was tired, frustrated, and annoyed. I’ll take you back a few days. I should’ve done this long run on Sunday, but I remembered I left my running shoes at work over the weekend. I went out with friends after work on Friday, so I decided to leave my gym bag at work. I knew I had this long run to do on Sunday, and I convinced myself I’d go into work and run on the treadmill, so I left my bag there, so I wouldn’t have to lug it around on Friday night. On Saturday, I found out a friend who’s now living out of the country was in town, and on Sunday, we all made plans to go to the movies that night. If I timed it right, I’d have time to rest for a little after brunch, and go for my run. But then I remembered my shoes were 45 minutes away on the train. So I just decided to rest and do my run on Monday. And of course I didn’t do my run on Monday, cause I left it for after work, and I was too tired, or at least that’s what I told myself. Finally, and thankfully, I did my run this morning before work.

But it was a tough go. It had been three days since I last ran, and my body seemed to be sluggish, not as well-oiled. Five miles was as long as I’d ever attempted to run, and my mind wasn’t ready for it. I decided to run 2 miles at a time and walk about 5 minutes between those miles. However, during the run, even though I had devised a game plan, I was still tired, frustrated, and annoyed. I didn’t have a good breakfast, I just ate some chicken and had a bit of water, so I wasn’t feeling as fueled. Or maybe my mind was blocking my will, since I knew I had a crappy breakfast. There was a man in the gym when I got there this morning, who was using the elliptical like a madman. His head was going back and forth so fast, I thought he was going to fall off the machine. All this motion was making me nauseous, and I could not wait for him to get off. When he finally did. he started on slamming weights on lifting machines. I don’t know if he had too much weight, or not enough weight during this reps. but the rhythmic banging was hella annoying and frustrating. Didn’t he know I was running the longest I’ve ever run in my life? Why is he bothering me so??

I already know I’m not really a fan of running, like doing the actual activity of running. I like the benefits once I’ve finished, but not while I’m running. So this morning, because I was out of the running groove, I allowed anything and everything to bother me. Right when I was experiencing those emotions, I made sure to think about why I was feeling that way, and it’s cause: I don’t like running! I have to remember this as I go throughout my training, so I don’t sabotage myself and go an entire week or something without running because I’m making excuse after excuse. I have to stay consistent so even if my mind isn’t in it. my body can still move forward because it’s in the running groove, a phrase I see I like saying. Hopefully my mind will get behind it as I continue to be repetitive, cause “mind over matter.”

[melissaclay]

Meli Runs [7.13.16]

I ran four miles this morning. I haven’t run this far in about a year, and boy, did I feel it. I ate eggs and sausage for breakfast for fuel, as I knew I would need the energy to complete the run. Sometimes I wake up, stretch, drink some water, go for a run, and I can feel how sluggish I am in about 12-15 minutes into a run. Why wouldn’t I eat something? How did I think I would have a successful run? Anyway, this morning I was determined to have a good, strong run. You see, I’m training for a half marathon. My mom did the same race last year, and she inspired me to follow in her footsteps. 

I’m not a runner. My older sister is a runner. She joined cross country in high school and caught on and fell in love with running. I would go to her meets with my parents, and I’d sprint around trying to get pictures of her during the race. This was about the extent of my “running.” I played softball and was a cheerleader in middle and high school, but all that was required, conditioning-wise, were running a few laps around the gym and sprinting to the bases. It never crossed my mind that I would grow up and train to run a half marathon, It was never a goal of mine, even though I was in awe of people who completed marathons.

I moved to Chicago after college in 2008. Chicago is known for their marathons, and the church I went to cheered on the runners every marathon Sunday morning. As I mentioned before, I was a cheerleader in high school, and I so enjoyed rooting for people and being an encouragement to others. When I learned my church family woke up early in the morning to watch the race and cheer people on, I was on board. The course ran right by my church, and the mood was fun, inspiring, and alive. The runners had so much determination and focus in their eyes. They averted their eyes from the path for just a moment to give us cheering fans a high five or smile, then it was back to business. I admired and respected their drive and hunger, but completing a marathon, or even a half marathon, was never anything I craved for myself. 

My mom recently started going through a transformation. She was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in 2004, a diagnosis that was really scary. She immediately changed her diet and thankfully wasn’t on medication for long, if she were on meds at all. She exercised more, walking on her lunch break and after work. She lost weight and cooked differently. But after awhile, she noticed she was plateauing in her weight loss and was feeling bogged down. In her quest to find something to jump-start her body, my mom found this diet called Wheat Belly, where you cut out all wheat, all grains, and artificial sugar from your diet. It would be a huge lifestyle change. She was already trying to cut down on her sugar intake because of the diabetes, but completely cutting out wheat and grain was kind of unheard of. As she researched and got psyched up about it, she told her family what she was planning on doing. I supported her, but didn’t really think about incorporating it into my lifestyle. 

She made the change in January, 2015, cutting out all wheat, grains and sugar. She switched to a high-fat lifestyle and adjusted pretty quickly. They say it takes the affects of wheat-withdrawal to get out of your body within three weeks, and it takes a new habit to form in 21 days (but it’s probably about two months actually), so around six weeks, my mom was feeling great! *Quick note - My mom went to the doctor in October, 2015 and her blood tests show she no longer has diabetes and her blood sugar is normal, and to this day. she is still clear. Praise the Lord!*

I won’t get into everything with Wheat Belly in this post, as it’s already longer than I anticipated (oops), but I will say through my mom’s influence and excitement, I changed my lifestyle too and cut out all wheat and grains from my diet. I cut back on processed sugar, but let’s face it, it’ll be a long while before I will be able to cut it out completely. I started in April, 2015 and I have more energy, I don’t feel bloated and tired after meals, and I’ve lost weight. 

Around the same time I started on Wheat Belly, I started doing the couch to 5k app that my running sister told me about. She had restarted running and used this app to get back in the swing of things. I noticed her progress and how her body was changing, so I decided, what the heck, I’ll give this running thing a try. This app was amazing, and it uses interval running to build endurance and proper breathing techniques. I was so impressed! By the end of it, I had signed up for a 6K and completed that race in August. I was kinda hooked, it was invigorating to run alongside all those people and be encouraged to have a good, strong run. For the first time, I was the one being cheered for in a race, and it felt really good.

My mom continued to push herself with her health, and she signed up the run the Detroit Half Marathon in October, 2015. She trained with her World Vision team and completed the race! How exciting, my mom was a half marathon finisher! I’m so proud of her and she sparked a motivation in her children. Another sister of mine, not the cross country sister, completed a half marathon in May this year, and inspired me to venture out sign up for one as well.

So back to this morning and my 4-mile run. After my warm up, I thought, well Melissa, if you run two miles and you get tired, just walk for a little and run again when you’re feeling stronger. I had run 2 miles on Monday, and it was a bit of a struggle. I wasn’t sure if I could run four miles straight only two days later. But as I was going along, keeping a slow, comfortable pace, I was feeling good enough to think about finishing the run. I also started thinking about my friends and family who I could tell I ran four miles, like my sister who ran the half in May, and my friend who completed a Spartan race in June. I’m competitive, so it’s nice for me to think about who I can tell my accomplishments. And it’s nice that I have people in my life who care about what I’m doing and hold me accountable to stick to my training. Toward the end of the run this morning, I felt stronger and I pushed myself to run faster, to sprint out the last half mile. I went from thinking I’d barely make it through two miles without stopping, to finishing strong! The last two miles, I was thinking, mind over matter, one foot in front of the other. I know it’s cheesy, but saying those things in my head over and over helped me over the hump.

The half marathon is October 16, 2016, just over three months away. I can’t wait to grow in my running journey and kick that half marathon’s butt! 

[melissaclay]

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139:13-14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

[melissaclay]

| Maybe We Would Go Together like Fall and Football |

I wrote this short essay in direct response after seeing @terencenance‘s An Oversimplification of Her Beauty in 2013. The movie was truly inspirational and I left the theater with so many thoughts. I sat down and this story just poured out. I was too nervous to post it then, as it’s autobiographical, but I’ve decided, why not? The love interest’s name has been changed to protect the innocent. I hope you enjoy and maybe get something out of it.

| Maybe We Would Go Together like Fall and Football |

His name was Glenn. I met him in college. We worked together. We spent long hours side by side, getting to know each other by the way we handled situations. We laughed. I made him laugh more than he made me laugh, and I liked that. I liked that I could make him laugh. You see, he was a biochem major, and I a creative writing major, so the fact I could get him to laugh made me feel smart. We spent long hours side by side, getting to know each other by the way we handled situations.  

We were promoted to managers at the same time. We worked at the gym on campus. We dominated the scene. We walked around on our respective shifts, chatting with the associates, making sure only students were let in, breaking up fights on the basketball courts, telling meatheads to keep the grunting down in the weight room. We held the highest position a student could have.  

Even though we were both managers, we sometimes, well, a lot of times, worked together. This was purposed. I would be his assistant manager or he'd be mine. I would take orders from him, "Hey, could you go give Danny a break? He's been here since noon," or "Melissa, please help Megan set up the volleyball nets." It was easy to do what he asked. I wanted to do what he asked.

There was something different about Glenn. Something different from any boy I'd liked before him. It wasn't his looks, he was white with glasses and blondish brown hair. I had liked white guys before. I went to a school in the suburbs and that was pretty much all I'd seen. I particularly remember liking this one guy in high school; he liked golf and wore a Tiger Woods hat every day he could. I started watching golf so I could have something to talk about with him. "Did you see Tiger? He was hitting birdies left and right," or "Sergio Garcia's no match. He wishes he could be as good as Tiger." I also thought I liked another white guy in high school, but it turns out I only "liked" him because everyone else did. He was the typical boy people were drawn to, with dark hair, an easy smile, big eyes, a sense of adventure. All my friends were crazy about him, and I thought I should be too. In retrospect, I've realized those weren't real feelings for him, but more so a need to fit in.

But with Glenn, it was more than his looks. Or maybe in spite of his looks. He was quiet, introverted, kinda melted into the background. He was everything I wasn't. And I liked that. I subconsciously challenged myself to bring him out of his shell. I would ask questions like, "What'd you do this weekend," or "Are you going to the football game on Saturday?" Mundane questions, really. I didn't want to scare him off with silly whimsical wonderings. I learned what he liked to do, what things made him uncomfortable, what music he listened to. We were becoming friends. I'd make observations about the students coming into the gym or tell him some ridiculous writing idea someone came up with in class. He would listen, he cared enough to listen.  

Work parties were a thing of the norm. We were college kids, we worked at a gym, people liked to show off and get drunk. Glenn and I didn't get drunk, though. But Glenn never really came to parties anyway. I went for social interaction, for the dancing, for the amusing conversations with my intoxicated peers. Eventually I got Glenn to come to a party. "The guys from work are going to be there. You don't have any plans tonight anyway, and you can sleep in." I remember dressing in a way to get a guy's attention. My jeans were form fitting, my shirt more revealing than the work uniform I donned almost every day. I was more flirtatious in this social setting. My eyes lingered longer than usual on his eyes. I threw my head back in laughter at his jokes, sometimes laughing a bit longer than warranted, touching his arm all the while. I wanted him to know I liked him, as more than just a friend, that I wanted something more. I didn't want to tell him, though. I didn't want to flat out tell him. I thought my clues were enough for him to pick up on.

This was not the case. Glenn and I continued to be friends, I continued to make him laugh, he continued to come to some parties, and we continued to spend long hours together, working side by side. He didn't pick up on my clues, he hadn't honed in on my hints. He never made a move or asked me out on a date. I thought this was because he was shy, right?

I know I'm a fun girl. I know how to get out there and engage people and get to know them. That's not hard for me. I'm not shy about asking someone to go to a movie with me. "Hey, Glenn, Wedding Crashers is coming out on Friday. Let's go see it." This was harmless enough, this was friendship. Of course we each paid for our own ticket. He thought we were being friends and I got to spend time with him. We would go see movies like that occasionally, when I wasn't chillin out, maxin, relaxin all cool. I was doing everything I knew to get him to know I liked him, without exactly telling him I liked him. I remember one night he picked me up on our way to a movie and I had just put lotion on. It was a generous portion, I can't be ashy around my crush. When I got in the car, he said, "Your lotion smells like formaldehyde." I was mor-ti-fied. Formaldehyde??? Come on, St. Ives, you over here sending me off. He didn't say this in a seductive way, as if the smell of formaldehyde were sexy to him. He said it disgustedly, and there was nothing I could do about it. Everything in me wished a sink would appear and I could quickly wash off any and all offending lotion smells with the soap of his choice. Maybe he liked a rain scent, or lemon, or green apple. I'd douse myself in Chanel No. 5 if it would please him. Anything to rid the car of the smell of formaldehyde. How would he ever like me now? He would forever associate me with formaldehyde, with dead worms and pigs, with lifeless frogs assigned to be dissected in order to pass biology.

Has anyone heard of Flogging Molly? I certainly had not until Glenn mentioned he listened to them. I never brought myself to listen to them, but maybe Glenn wanted to know about some of the music I enjoyed. I told him about the singer Kem, and I lent him Kem's Album II CD. "This is baby making music," Glenn said as he gave me his feedback. I'd never realized that until he said it. I was embarrassed when he told me this, as if he had caught me at my game. I listened to it as jazz, not necessarily as sexual or erotic. I loved Kem's voice and his style, but maybe since I wasn't attracted to him that way, I didn't interpret his music as such. But subconsciously I must've picked up on the sensuality, and thus passed my CD on to Glenn. Maybe I was trying to seduce Glenn into liking the same music I liked, and therefore he would like me in return. If Kem's smooth voice couldn't convince Glenn to like me, what could?

Thankfully Glenn's attitude toward me didn't negatively change after my "seduction" faux pas, but unfortunately, it didn't change for the better, either. Our friendship went along stagnant for the next several months, we worked side by side, but I didn't discover anything new about him. He didn't volunteer any information about his life and I was tired of asking questions. Weren't we friends? Why didn't he want to share his life's tidbits with me? Why did I always have to ask him about his class workload or what he did over spring break? I was growing to resent Glenn. I thought we had something special...not that he liked me more than a friend, but that he talked to me more than anyone else at work and we shared more laughs and secret smiles; I thought he should want to be around me more outside of work. I thought we had fun together. But he never asked to hang out with me, I asked him. He never reciprocated. But I didn't want to be resentful of Glenn. He was a smart and funny, and he cared about work and school. He was a stand-up guy, and I wanted to be more than his friend.

So I finally decided to step out and put myself out there. What did I have to lose...except everything? If he rejected me, I would have to work with him every day and try not to act weird around him. Could we go back to being just friends? Could I just ask him to see a movie with me on a random night without him being leery of my motives? Would I want to be around him after he just told me he didn't want to be with me?

After I weighed all this, I just decided to do it. I couldn't see him every day and never tell him how I felt. Maybe he secretly felt the same way I did? Maybe we could be this odd couple: me loud and boisterous and him quiet and reserved. Maybe we would go together like fall and football.

One day, when Glenn was leaving work and walking down the long hallway to the door, I followed him out. I pretended I needed to ask him a question about work. "Are you working tomorrow cause I'm going to be a little late coming from my class." Once that little exchange was over and we were in the stairwell just in front of the door, I had to stop him from leaving. "Hey, Glenn, wait." I told him I liked him and I told him he was cute and I liked when we hung out and I told him he was funny and I told him I liked that he was quiet and I hoped I wasn't too loud and in his face and I told him I wanted to see if this could work and I told him I wanted to be more than friends and I told him until I couldn't tell him anymore. I said all of these things in my head, but I realized I only said "I like you and do you think you could like me? As more than friends?" He looked at me, he searched my face with his big blue eyes and he looked down for a bit. I knew this was a mistake. I had my answer; he didn't even need to say anything. But nonetheless, he said, "I like you as a friend, Melissa."

I'm not sure what I was expecting to happen. I certainly wasn't expecting to be crushed as much as I was. I didn't realize how much I liked him until this exact moment right now when he turned me down. I was deflated. I wanted a romantic comedy ending where he would look me lovingly in the eyes and tell me he of course wanted to spend every waking moment with me. But instead, he let me down gently, and I was devastated.

I took a chance, a chance I vowed never to take again. I never wanted to put myself out there again, to be vulnerable and initiate the start of a romantic relationship. I learned then that a gambler I wasn’t. I couldn’t handle it, and the reward was definitely not worth the risk.

Years later, I think back on this experience with some fondness. Thinking about the friendship I had formed out of nothing, I value those times we spent together. But a part of me wishes I would have left it the way it was, left the easiness we shared. We still worked together after my detrimental decision to put myself out there, but it wasn’t the same. It was never the same. I wish I would’ve stayed his friend so I could crack his code. But it was too late, I couldn’t turn back the clock. The deed was done and I would never talk to Glenn the way I had before. Maybe expanding myself wasn’t the way to go. I’ll never know. But I do know that ten years later, I haven’t put myself out there like that since. Maybe this is a mistake.

[melissaclay]

| Untitled No. 1 |

To be watched To be loved To be hated To be feared To be wanted To be loved To be loved To be wanted To want To desire To be let down in dire To assume and not question To be let down To be wanted To be wanted But, to fear and be up in the air To think "I don't know" and be okay To be vulnerable and not stray.

[melissaclay]

Excerpt from the article 1.5 Million Missing Black Men

“The missing-men phenomenon began growing in the middle decades of the 20th century, and each government census over the past 50 years has recorded at least 120 prime-age black women outside of jail for every 100 black men. But the nature of the gap has changed in recent years.

Since the 1990s, death rates for young black men have dropped more than rates for other groups, notes Robert N. Anderson, the chief of mortality statistics at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Both homicides and H.I.V.-related deaths, which disproportionately afflict black men, have dropped. Yet the prison population has soared since 1980. In many communities, rising numbers of black men spared an early death have been offset by rising numbers behind bars.”

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2015/04/20/upshot/missing-black-men.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&module=second-column-region®ion=top-news&WT.nav=top-news&abt=0002&abg=0&_r=1

[melissaclay]

#meliclaybday Birthday festivities

[melissaclay]

Birthday festivities #meliclaybday

[melissaclay]

#friends #chicago

[myhiphopisgolden]

[adorableblackgiant-deactivated2]

Do you realize how complex this rhyme scheme was? It makes me want to cry. Rolling brown skin i be/ Standing 5’10 i be/ Rocking it when i be/ in yo vicinity/ Raw style synergy/ Recognize symmetry/ Courts? try to injure me/ Broke em down chemically/ Ain’t the number 10 mc/ Talking bout how bent i be/ Started like Kennedy/ Late like a ten to three/ When i say when i be/ Girls say “Ven aqui”/ Cuz listing to my beat/ Girls like my style see/ Way out like Tennessee/

[last-name-cole]

By far my fav post on tumblr.