The "Too Single" Crew: Having a Private Party

I’m having a private party. Ain’t no body here but me, my angels, and my guitar singin’ baby look how far we’ve come here. I’m havin’ a private party. Learning how to love me. Celebrating the woman I’ve become.

Ebonee’s having a private party aint nobody there but her, her theater and her stage, reciting, “Baby look how far we’ve come.” Ebonee wants a normal life and is beginning to regret the day she told God that she wanted to be different, set apart, called, chosen…you know…all the things we say in the beginning of our walk before all hell breaks loose. She has decided that the play called her life is a one woman show. She’s the cast, she’s the set, she’s the script, and it is written, directed and produced by God. Her and God however, evidently, are having some disagreements.

I tried to call my mother, but she didn’t get where I was going. I called my boyfriend and he said, "Call me back a little later baby." I hung up the phone, I felt so alone. Started to feel a little pity.That’s when I realized that I Gotta find the joy inside of me.

Ashlee’s having a private party aint nobody there but her, her dancewear and her shoes dancing, “Baby look how far we’ve come.” Ashlee’s life can’t fall apart because too many people’s lives around her are. She’s decided to wait until the coast is clear before having any breakdowns or unwarranted trysts that may cause her to stumble. Too many bodies on top of one another is too much of a mess to clean up. Unnecessary stress, she is avoiding at all costs. She is even boycotting working for a season just to keep the peace. While Jessie says “If time is my vessel, then learning to love might be my way back to sea,” Ashlee says, “If time is my vessel, then learning to relax and doing absolutely nothing is my way back to sea.”

I’m gonna take off all my clothes. Look at myself in the mirror. We’re gonna have a conversation. We’re gonna heal the disconnection. I don’t remember when it started. But this is where it’s gonna end. My body is beautiful and sacred. And I’m gonna celebrate it.

Jessie’s having a private party aint nobody there but her, her keypad and her blog, typing, “Baby look how far we’ve come.”

“I always think THIS time. THIS time the guy is going to fight for me. THIS time... THIS guy will realize this won't be all there is to it. But so far I have always been wrong. So far in my life guys have always lacked courage or will or SOMEthing. Or maybe the fault is mine and I just can't admit until much later if something was not right. I am willing to be wrong. But the only option that I know by now FINALLY THIS time is that, fight or no, I am worth fighting for.”

All my life I’ve been looking for somebody else to make me whole. But I had to learn the hard way. True love began with me. This is not ego or vanity, I’m just celebrating me.

Latosha’s having a private party aint nobody there but her, her paint brush and her pad, painting, “Baby look how far we’ve come.” Latosha has taken her private party to a whole other level. She has not only cut off all the negative people in her life, but she’s also cut off the cable television in her house. Latosha has decided that she is her own therapist and has found a newfound creator on the inside of her in painting. She’s even gone as far as to hang her masterpieces all over her apartment in all sorts of fancy frames. Latosha doesn’t need a therapist and she sure as h*ll doesn’t need to go out purchasing any expensive paintings to decorate her apartment. Move over Maslow. Move over Van Gough.

Sometimes I’m alone but never lonely. That’s what I’ve come to realize. I’ve learned to love the quiet moments. The Sunday mornings of life. Where I can reach deep down inside. Or out into the universe. I can laugh until I cry, Or I can cry away the hurt.

Khristi’s having a private party, aint nobody there but her, blank pages and her pen, writing, “Baby look how far we’ve come.” Khristi wonders why she can create a work of art on stage, but fails to do so in her own life. Could this be the test of a true artist? Suffering from an extreme case of writers block, Khristi’s afraid that there are some things happening in her life that she just can’t seem to rewrite. Perhaps it’s time to end this chapter and start a new one. Perhaps some chapters are better left unwritten.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday.

Kim’s having a private party. Aint nobody there but her, ambition and her dreams, preaching, “Baby look how far we’ve come.” Kim has decided that the 60’s may be the decade for her. It appears as though in 2008, men in their 30's are still "finding themselves." Hey, what’s 10, 15 years difference? May save her a boat load of heartache in the long run. Doesn’t matter anyway. Like Tosha, Kim has been doing some drawing of her own. Kim drew her entire life on a sheet of poster board and crayons and has done everything but find a frame. Oh but when she does…these stick figures and boxed houses will tell her story. Who needs a preacher to prophesy when you can draw your own life? Poster Board anyone?