Would You Have Dealings with the Ex of Someone Close to You?

Throughout my life I've had my share of female friends.  My girls and I have always had this unwritten rule where we didnt mess with each others ex's, dudes who the homegirl smashed, or dudes the homegirl really liked.  Now, if there was a dude we all considered FINE but there was no one claiming to actually dig dude then he was fair game.  I can't remember when this started for me but it continues on well into my adult years although some dudes and chicks I know view this scenario differently now that we are older.

Personally I couldnt see dealing with a dude that someone I am close to used to deal with regardless of how long ago their dealings were or how long the dealings lasted.  But I know some females who feel like the fact that dude splashed their cousin or best friend back in the deal does not make them off limits now, 10 plus years later.  Call me crazy but I dont want anyones sloppy seconds and I dont want any of my girls to have first hand experience regarding how capable my current S.O., or J.O. were/are in the bedroom, etc.  The past needs to stay in the past and having dealings with a friends or family members past is def not leaving the past where it should be.

Recently I had a conversation with a female very close to me and she was telling me that there is a dude that she went to college with who smashed like 60-70% of her crew over a 2 year period.  That's very disturbing to me, I mean they all knew that dude had smashed more than one of their girls when they became his next conquest.  Maybe I'm weird but that just doesnt sound appealing to me at all..."Yeah, I know you splashed Mary, Diana, and Nancy, but I want to get down with the get down so lets get it on."  GTFOH with that!!!!!  Apparently after the 1st homegirl get hers and bragged to the click how good dude was some of the other girls decided they wanted to test the waters for themselves.  Case in point why you should never give details to anyone, least of all your "friends" about the bedroom habits of a female/male you are dealing with.  Some people are grimy as hell and the green-eyed-monster will cause them to want get a taste of what you been bragging about.

Right now a similar situation is possibly brewing on ABC's Private Practice.  Addison is best friends with Naomi while Naomi is Sam's ex-wife.  Addison has a history of cheating; she cheated on her now-ex-husband while they were still married; and with his best friend no less yeah she's a dirty trollop.  She has since moved past that and is trying to live a better life.  Addison and Sam have kissed on a few occasions, usually around the time that one or both of them are stressed out about something.  At first, it seemed the story line wasnt going anywhere but last week they kissed and Sam wanted to take it further but Addison grew a conscience and decided that she didnt want to be the cheater anymore; she values the relationship she has with her best friend more than exploring the chemistry between herself and Sam.  Sam is pissed now and wont talk to her unless its work related.  Clearly, his feelings are hurt, but such is life...we dont always get what we want. But then Addison runs to Pete (whom she confides in when she's having man troubles and with whom it seemed she was going to have a thing with in season One but she couldnt get past his playboy ways) and ends up having sex with him even though they both admit they are in love with co-workers (Sam for Addison and Violet for Pete; Violet is another Dr on the show and also the mother of Pete's son).

I have to say I agree with Addison on the first scenario.  I value my friendship with my bestie way more than a relationship that may or may not work out with her ex-significant other. But then I give her a big fat fail for boning Pete...its hypocritical to an extent but hey, thats just my opinion.

So what say you?  Have you ever dated or sexed a friend or family members ex? If you have, how did it work out?  If you havent, would you?  Chime in and share your thoughts.

August 4th

2010 Calendar Zine August
Originally uploaded by teleflux
This is directed to the people I know who wonder why I'm kinda weird and distant in the beginning of August....



August 4th is always a weird day for me. It usually sneaks up on me but when I realize what day it is I get emotional, or at least I used to; I'm less and less visibly emo as every year passes.


In the summer 2001, just before I began my Senior year in college, I was working a sweet summer job as a Summer Service Ambassador for Continental at Newark Airport. We bid on our positions a bit differently than regular Continental employees in that we got seniority from our SSN. So of course your girl was lucky enough to have a pretty early pick and I chose to work with the Unaccompanied Minors. I absolutely loved working with the kids and we usually got to eat for free when we had a bunch of kids with unexpected layovers add to that the fact that I flew domestically for under $20 roundtrip and you can tell why I enjoyed this job so much.


Well on August 4th of that year, which was a Saturday, I worked my 10-6pm shift like normal and then proceeded to take the bus home. I got home somewhere around 7ish and started to unwind from my day. About an hour later my doorbell was ringing (which was unusual because no one ever stopped by without calling first and we werent expecting anyone). I was the one with the most clothes on so I proceeded downstairs to find that the neighbors on the 1st and 2nd floor had also been disturbed by their doorbells ringing. When I reached the main entrance I was greeted by the glum face of Ms. Morning. Ms. Morning was the former girlfriend of my father (we'll call him AB3). She proceeded to tell me that AB3 had had a heart attack and passed away that day. Of course, I immediately broke down crying.


AB3 and I had a great relationship when I was growing up. He and my mom were not able to stay together as a couple but he was always present in my life; he transported me to and from school until I started taking the bus in the 4th grade and I was with him every other weekend, not to mention the road trips to NY, Boston, DC and SC to see family. He was def a strong presence in my life and I have to say that the only real "daddy issue" I have stems from the fact that he is not alive and well today. As I grew older we started to bump heads because we are a lot alike in that we are both very outspoken and detest when people try to force us or prevent us from doing anything.


The last time I saw AB3 we argued, it wasnt a knock down drag out but it was an argument nonetheless. The last we spoke we had made peace from our previous argument and I was actually supposed to go see him on the 5th when I got off of work. While standing on my stoop hugging and crying Ms. Morning told me that she had to use some detective work to track me down to give me the news; apparently one of my aunts remembered the name of my street and another remembered my house number (we hadnt been living at this spot for very long) so she hopped in her car and found her way to me. She didnt know which apartment we lived in hence why she rang all 3 doorbells. The story gets deeper in that my two younger brothers (who have a different mother than I) were spending the weekend with my dad the weekend he passed away. They were 13 and 9 so you can imagine how traumatic the experience was for them. The older one, J, called 911 and summoned the ambulance. The EMT's were able to revive AB3 in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the ER staff revived him once again but his heart was weak and they were unable to bring him back a 3rd time.


Through our ups and downs I was always a Daddy's Girl (spoiled beyond belief but I was a good kid and I deserved everything I got). The drama that surrounded his passing, handling his memorial and dealing with crazy family members was probably one of the worst experiences of my life. I did get through it but there's a part of me that died when he died. His absence was terribly obvious when I missed him at graduation when I got my Bachelors, and subsequently Masters. Though I think of him all year round, Fathers Day, August 4th and his birthday, October 28th, are always kinda weird days for me. I dont cry anymore but I'm very nostalgic in remembering the good times that we shared. I love my Daddy and I miss him.


In 2004, I was living in FL working my first real 9-5. The job was cool and the money was decent so I really had nothing to complain about. During the first quarter of that year I lived with my grandparents. One afternoon in April I received a phone call from my older brothes mother. My older brother, we'll call him Nomad, was adopted by my dad and his first wife long before I was even thought of. Nomad, lived with me and my parents for a time when I was very young. He was 13 years older than me so the age difference kept us from being very close until I got older. I dont recall the exact details on how Nomad and I reconnected but we were building a solid brother/sister relationship and he did attend my college graduation in 2002. We road tripped it back north in the U-Haul I rented to transport all my worldly possessions back to NJ. I dropped him off in Baltimore at his "friends" house. You see, Nomad was gay. Its not something that was talked about much amongst the family, especially not to me seeing as how my entire family goes out of their way to "protect the babygirl" from EVERYTHING that isnt roses and sugar cookies.But I digress... I loved and accepted him regardless of his sexual orientation/preference; he was my brother, plain and simple.


Back to the phone call from Nomad's mom. She called me to tell me that Nomad was in the DC prison system and he was in the jail's hospital. They would not give her any information and she wanted me to call and see if I could make any headway. Well, I called and was able to get someone to tell me that he had been diagnosed with AIDS Dementia (I'm almost 100% sure they gave me the info and not his mom because Nomad and I share the same last name). The woman I spoke with explained the visiting hours and what I had to do to get on his list as well as get the visitors pass to go see him. You see I did know he had AIDS (which I found out when I was a Juniorr in college, years after he had contracted the virus, because he had a bad episode and Drs werent sure he would pull through so the fam HAD to tell me) but I wasnt sure how far the disease had progressed. The story I got of how he ended up in the DC prison system was something about him sticking up an elderly woman; I never got the full deets on that one but it really doesnt matter why he was there. I was concerned that he was in the DC jail system and possibly not getting the healthcare he needed. Well, I thought about it for a few days and decided to hop a plane to the DMV to go check on my older brother.


I had friends and family in the area so I didnt have to worry about where I would stay when I hit town. I flew in on Tuesday and the case worker made arrangements so I could see him every weekday that I was in town. I had to go to the main jail to get the pass (every day) and then travel to the hospital for my hour long visit. Seeing Nomad in his condition broke my heart. He was very frail (he was always on the skinny side but this was beyond skinny) and the dementia was evident because I could tell he didnt know who I was. During my visits I would talk to him about AB3 and the few family gatherings we attended together. There were points where I believe the conversation sparked for him some recognition of who I was but overall he didnt talk much, just sat quietly and intently listening to me inserting a "Yeah" or "Umm Hmm" here and there. I called Nomad's mom daily and gave her updates on his status and overall well being. She was very grateful to me for going, getting info and sharing it.


The following Sunday I flew back to FL. Nomad's mom and I talked periodically and she eventually told me she was working on getting him a medical release from prison because the AIDS was taking its toll on his body and his remaining time was very limited. Sometime in mid-summer the medical release was granted and Nomad's mom moved him to a hospice type residential center in NJ. She and I spoke weekly and I got my updates on his mental and physical condition while trying to help her stay sane during this hard and trying time.


The calendar slipped to August and I realized perhaps, the day before, that the 4th was approaching. I had to work and figured work would be the best way for me not to dwell on the memories the day would bring to me. Shortly after I came back from my lunch break a got a call on my cell from Nomad's mother. When I answered and heard her speak I could tell immediately that she had a heavy heart and something was very wrong. She proceeded to tell me that Nomad had taken his last breath; she was at his bedside all day every day and she stepped outside to use her cell phone (the reception in the place was not good) and when she came back he was gone.  We cried on the phone together a bit and then I had my boss and a co-worker take me home because I was in no condition to drive.  Nomad's mother decided to have a memorial for him about a month after he passed away as she didnt feel a funeral was a good idea.  I flew to NJ for the memorial and it was lovely.  We all celebrated him and talked about the good times; it was a day of tears and laughter...


Damn August 4th!!!! And to top it off, Nomad's birthday is a few days after the 4th so basically the entire 1st week of August is a bit nostalgic and emotional for me. I usually get quiet and reflective around that time...As I said earlier, every year I'm less sad and concentrate moreso on the happy memories but it still sucks that my father and older brother are no longer with me. I miss them both dearly.