Mamalicious!

I guess I kind of understand the whole “Bridezilla” thing.  I remember that my first wedding was all about a million and one little details, and wanting everything to be just-so, and I guess I can see how this could be crazy-making for a bride-to-be…and a nightmare for those who have to deal with the crazy bride-to-be.  But I was not That Bride, nor will I be for wedding #2.

That said, I can’t wait for our wedding day, and for the new adventures that will come with married and stepmama life.  So, until further notice, there’s a good chance that my updates here, scarce as they are, will be all kinds of mushy.  To wit:

This morning, for some reason, I had Beyonce’s “Diva/Hustler” song going through my head non-stop.  I’m not even particularly fond of that song, but as with so many things Beyonce (and fungi), it just grows on you, I guess.  Anyway, “Diva” got me to thinking about the first year or so of my relationship with TechBoo when he used to call me “Diva”, as a term of endearment.  I didn’t get why, so I wrote this poem to him*:

Diva…Or, What’s in a Name?

You say it with such affection
but casual, like punctuation
like baby-honey-sweetie-boo

How you doin’ today, diva

What time is it, diva

Have you seen my socks, diva

Until one day I ask you:
“Why do you call me ‘diva’?
I am not channeling Diana Ross and her Supreme Ego
I am not an insecure, pop starlet making 14 minute, 58 second demands on you
I am low-maintenance
earthy
compassionate
self-less

humble

Can’t you see my humility?

So, I ask you: why do you call me ‘diva’?”

And, being the 21^st century man you are,
you turn to Answers.com and read:
“Diva: one, an operatic primadonna
two, a very successful singer of non-operatic music: a jazz diva
for example…”

Man, you know I can’t sing…

“There’s more,” you say:
“a woman of rare, outstanding talent”
“the term derives from an ancient Italian word meaning ‘goddess’,
which, in turn derives from the feminine form of a Latin word divus, meaning
‘divine one’…”

“Stop me,” you say,

when you hear something that’s not true.

And I say:

“Go on…
and on…
and on…
and on.”

July 2007

*”…keep in mind that I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit.”–E. Badu

Multi-tasking stats: I created this blog entry while also hoping that this cough is not H1N1 really nothing, contemplating sushi for lunch, and deciding which audiobooks I want to download from iTunes.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 24th, 2009 at 10:08 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.