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February 16, 2003
Nothing Really
I’ve always wondered what people do on Sundays. I mean, I know some folks go to church. Some folks go to Target all day. But sometimes, on Sundays, I exercise the art of doing not a damn thing. But there’s an art to doing nothing. It has to be good.
For example, I could spend today getting all my tax documents together so that on Monday, I can make that phone call and have that squared away and taken care of. But you see, I have to work on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, so I would like the Monday to be used for all the hard errand running that sucks. I don’t know about you, but I absolutely can’t be bothered to drop off pictures to be framed. Know it needs to be done, but that means I have to go in the store, look at frames, talk about matting, have a heart attack when they quote me the price. If it’s too much, I have to look all over again at frames. That is not a Sunday task. It’s even a gift for my dad. I stole two high school photos of him getting a football trophy in 1968 to have them framed all fancy-this-is-going-in-my-home-office style. He looks like Mekhi Pfifer in the pictures. This is a gift and the task just seems daunting only because I know how picky I am, I know how socially awkward I can be and just gross me out already. We’re talking about a frame shop. What’s the big deal, you say? Totally. I just have a hard time with things.
Don’t even get me started on how hard it is for me to go into a shoe store and return a pair of shoes, and I’m talking about unworn shoes. I just feel so bad and like I am doing something wrong. I didn’t even wear them. I rarely return something. I dread doing it. And when I am not sure about shoes, I walk only on carpet until I absolutely know. And my turnaround time is 24 – 48 hours, so if I return something, it’s reasonable, but I just feel terrible. I haven’t bought anything lately, so I haven’t experienced that terrible feeling in a while. Good. It doesn’t even seem very characteristic of me, considering I can be stank if you cross me just long enough to get me angry. I cannot return a pair of shoes without having mild anxiety. This is ludicrous.
See, all these things above. You can’t think of those things on Sunday. On Do Nothing Sunday, this is the blueprint one must follow to really experience the zen of nothingness.
Wake up. Look at ceiling. Look at clock. Look at blankets, pillows, hands, and sigh. Check messages. (If you can check messages without drama, then check them. If there are messages that scream with a sense of urgency, kiss Do Nothing Sunday goodbye.) Brush teeth. Look at teeth for two minutes. Apply MAC Lip Conditioner. Light incense in the bathroom. Turn on one of the following: VH-1 Soul Videos, MTVJams, or go to Music Center if you have digital cable and put it on Smooth R &B, R & B and Hip Hop or Classic R & B. Later in the day, you can graduate to Dance, Pop, 70s, 80s or Soft Rock. And if you’re high energy, you can even do Metal for a minute and just hope they play the one of three Metallica songs you know. Do not turn it to MTV. Some reality something or other is going to come on and then you may have to make phone calls. RW phone calls. Or Sorority Life Reunion phone calls. Don’t do it to yourself. That is no good for Sunday. That 19 Degrees of Reality Separation Hook-Up Whatever show was on yesterday and I just couldn’t believe they really did it. This is also not a Sunday topic. That show was hysterical by the way, and I can only say so because I didn’t have to see some splickety spliced up story line about me. They be having footage, creating footage, those people, and they can getchagood. They’re so good.
Now, we’re in front of the TV, perhaps watching videos. I got Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye with a video so it was a great start. Songs heard during childhood are great Sunday songs to dance to. In pajama pants, you dance. And you sing every part of the song. Something going on with the background vocals? Hit ‘em up on your way to the chorus. You must participate with the whole song. Guitar solo coming? And you know the riff? Make up sounds, sing along. That’s the way I enjoy a song. Of course, you do this by yourself or with someone else who makes up sounds to instrumental parts of songs. Otherwise, this is annoying for others. You’re too busy enjoying the sounds, the melodies, the jam, and they want to kill you. Keep it yourself.
Spent some energy there. It’s time for, and don’t be scared to admit these things as a grown ass lady, sugar cereal. It’s not like you eat it every day. I usually only have two bowls out of the whole box because I can’t eat it enough to where the milk doesn’t spoil. But whatever. For Do Nothing Sunday, you have sugar cereal and videos. Is this ghetto? No, it’s relaxing. I’m tired. I have emotions and errands and things to do, people to call back – all later. Today, I’m chilling. Don’t call my house. Don’t ring my cell phone. Yes, later I will go to the mall with you, but right now, I have Sade on the TV and Lucky Charms in my belly and I’m busy. Call me back.
Part of relaxing for me is writing. It depends on how relaxed you want to be though. If you’re super chilling coma style, you can pull out the old journal and the pen that leaks the ink out just precisely and makes your handwriting look amazing. If you’re just kinda chill, you can pull out a Word document, but ugh! Get the computer out, make sure it starts, listen to all of its I’m-a-dumb-computer sounds. Bloozy, bluuuuuuuurd, crickle-teee-dooo. Ugh, I hate it. If you have a heavy ass dinosaur egg of a Gateway Solo computer, then don’t bother. It will just frustrate you. I can’t even believe I do a website with this shitty computer. It’s the most terrible computer of all time. Dude, I only have AOL 5.0! I am drowning in obsolete machinery. I use my VCR regularly. I only have a DVD player because my boyfriend watches DVDs over here. He got me one for Christmas and hooked it all up, hid the chords, programmed the clocks, all that boy stuff. I don’t even know how to work it. I hate having 9 remote controls. I hide just the one the cable man gave me. Nobody wants to see 9 remote controls. Does your TV run your life? My goodness. So we’re writing. Writing. I am currently writing memories down. I keep a log of hilarious stuff my parents say and do and read them from time to time. I am in the process of figuring out plain old why I am and these things are so telling. It’s crazy. Tons of people say they don’t like their parents and their parents did this and that. I mean, that’s normal, everybody feels that way at some point. But at the end of the day I feel like I am regular person who wants to do right by people, who is clumsy and has bad luck, and I learned all that from my mama. Did I ever tell you how she broke her tooth? That is hysterical. Later.
After writing on Do Nothing Sunday, I take one of those long showers. The ones where things are getting accomplished. Legs are being shaved, back is being exfoliated, hair is deep conditioned, facial masks, cuticles pushed back, sea salt is in the air – all kinds of shower action. The whole house is to smell like you shower all day long. You take the kind of shower you take when you first start dating a person that you think you’ll date for a long time and you’re at the point where he comes over specifically to kiss you or say hi. The “I’m in the neighborhood later today, and I want to see you” phone call means you have work to do girl. Get up, get your hair together, get the pillows on the couch fluffed, light some tea lights and act like this is just a regular day. Some girls say boys don’t notice all that, but it doesn’t matter what they notice. It matters how you feel and for heaven’s sake if he does notice, you will be in there. Reel that fool in. And then when he says he has to go, he doesn’t and you talk all night and he makes you laugh and you get up and get him more water even though he didn’t ask for any. That kind of shower for Ain’t Nothing Going On Sunday, even without the boy as the occasion. See what I am saying here? You have to always be prepared! I sometimes dab a light raspberry oil behind my ears. But that’s only for when he is being super duper dope the bomb explosive showing up with Japanese candies and taking his hat off at the door and locking it behind him. That’s reserved for those days. And let me just say that, a good girlfriend maintains these beauty rituals even when 7, 8 months deep in the relationship. Don’t sleep, ladies. Make sure he knows that you know…
There’s a shift in Do Nothing Sunday where it becomes Doing Something but Being Real Mellow So It Feels Like I’m Doing Nothing. You see, on this day, I have decided to actually go the mall to buy beauty products and contact lenses. I haven’t been able to see shit for days, but now I need my vision. The mall run may make me hungry, at which point we opt to eat either in a dark restaurant or sit on the patio of a dead restaurant (and have Margaritas if you’re really doing nothing for the rest of the day).
One thing is certain, you have to bake something. Nothing is better than sitting in a house that smells like brownies that you don’t have to share with anybody because you are not expecting company. And if company pops up, you have brownies to offer with cute china and triangularly folded napkins. (If you’re from Tampa and know people from Tampa that also live in LA, this pop-up business is a possibility. Tampa folks kick it with Tampa folks and no knocking necessary).
See, I am lucky because on my Do Nothing Sunday, I got to incorporate some fresh flower arranging into the day. Remember my Valentineless Valentine’s? Late that evening, a bunch of red roses appeared on my door step mysteriously with no card. I like to leave the arrangement as it is for a day, but then I like to cut the flowers and put them in different containers all throughout the house. I sometimes even remove all the rose petals and save them for when I make my bed on a Sunday. Sundays, if I have gotten roses previously, I put rose petals on my bed. Is this weird? Reading the sentence back to myself, it felt weird. I don’t know, I think it’s just a girly thing to do and it makes me feel cool so I do it.
On Do Nothing Sunday, I opt for a dress. A flowy ridiculous one. The kind that you might put on, open the door to actually go out, look down and decide you can’t wear it out. But you can because you just can. There’s no complex philosophy behind it. If it feels good, and you look cute and you got hoop earrings on, wear that shit like you are on Brad Pitt’s arm at the Golden Globes. Wear it like your purse didn’t actually cost $12, those suckers. I wear a dress that I can wear with open-toe heels so that if I so choose, I can go get an $18 manicure and pedicure. I have to maximize the relaxing time because come Monday it’s all over, as if Sunday was just a dream. Monday brings emails and phone calls and driving and nervousness and fast walking and time limits and eating fast. Calgon, goddamn, take it all away, shit. Help me. Mondays trip me out.
So, now I’m about to catch up on two weeks worth of Newsweek and then do that shower thing. Waiting for my friend to come up out of church.
Speaking of church, I have a confession to make. I feel that All I Have Jennifer Lopez song. I can’t call her J-Lo anymore. I won’t. I feel that shit. I like breakup songs. “I know your game, I’m not feelin’ whatchyado” is cool as hell, man. I’m good. I got this thing on lock? I just like that song, man. A few friends have made fun of me, but I like it. I’m not going to get the whole album because I can’t do Jenny from the block used to have a little now I have a lot. I just can’t. But I can do “don’t matter whatever don’t faze me.” And that scene in the video with all the luggage? The luggage makes me want to die. It’s so gorgeous. All that luggage, I need it all, put it all in my belly. And when she is feeling her shit when she rubs her furry hat? I will straight do that move in my living room. Don’t make fun of me. That’s how I feel that song. Should I be embarrassed? Girl, don’t make decisions when you mad. LL is still doing it. I like his song with Amerie too, and I think she’s biracial. She’s adorable, that’s what I know. Touch it why don’tcha. Don’t need that though.
Oh well, this is crowding my do nothing schedule. I hope you’re doing nothing today as well.
Posted by melissah at February 16, 2003 02:46 PM