Saturday, July 16, 2016


Before I reveal the Top Reasons Not to Call Your Pseudo-Ex, lets first define what a pseudo-ex is!

The Pseudo-Ex, much like the Ex, has ripened, rotted, fallen, and re-composted itself back to the earth. However, the fall is more graceful for the Pseudo-Ex because it occurs intra-psychically.  In other words – its all in your head because the "relationship" strictly speaking, was all in your head.   The Pseudo-Ex is one who had potential and could have been the father of your future gorgeous children who would then go on to Stanford and Yale Law, or perhaps Juilliard or  even Trump University.   

The Pseudo-Ex has the ability to bring unfiltered, boundless, feel-good moments to your dull, colorless working-class life.  Until you are forced, usually by the Pseudo-Ex himself, to accept that this is never going anywhere, and you were pretty stupid to ever believe it was. So when the fall suddenly occurs, and almost 99.9% of the documented cases of Pseudo-Exdom do occur suddenly and without warning, your vision unexpectedly clears, and your brain regains its proper functioning.  

 You will notice that I am only referring to Pseudo-Exes in the masculine.  This is because it is still questionable whether women qualify as Pseudo-Exes because men don't seem to get attached to any woman other than their mothers and possibly their daughters,  but only if they are exceptional men – and we all realize, exceptional men are few and far between, don't we? Yes, we do.

So, here then, are the top 6 reason not to call your Pseudo-Ex:

1.  His body wasn't really all that!
So, now that he has chosen to move on, you start to remember how his bony frame hurt your rib cage when he hugged you the first time you met (remember, you only get to meet Pseudo-Exes once or twice.)  Or, maybe your man was so overweight, that if you had had sex with him, he may have had a heart attack and crushed you! Good thing you didn't indulge.

 2.   That other guy you've been having intermittent-can't-find-a-real-man-sex with for the past 2 years might hit it big after all?                   
You know? The Other Guy that you have been having sex with off and on after every Pseudo-Ex break-up?  (Lets call him Other Guy because it wouldn't be prudent to say he's your Boyfriend because he just doesn't fit that role in your life, and probably never will.)   The one who's been in prison, and doesn't pay his child support unless his check is garnished, doesn't wear deodorant because its just another way for the government to control the Black Man, and the last job he had was 15 years ago, technically. Yeah, that guy.    But he assures you,  every few months when you meet up,  that he is just about to have a breakthrough. Well, he may actually get broke off a piece and if you try to make it official with Pseudo-Ex, this Other Guy won't give you a piece of his winnings.  Oops! 

3.   Pseuedo-Ex has a cat.
You have allergies – Oh well.  That was easy! 

4.   His political views don't match well with yours.
Attempting to get back together, or rather, really together,  with a Pseudo-Ex whose beliefs are not congruent with yours would be a disaster! Think of all the arguing every time you have to vote, or every time Pseudo-Ex should vote.  He thinks it makes no sense to vote because the Illuminati got it all settled anyway.  Yeah, that's real?

 5.   "Bitch, you only seen that Motherfucker twice!  What is wrong with you!"
One very important point about Pseudo-Exes – never, ever tell your sisters that you have a potential Pseudo-Ex in your life because they will go off on your ass!   Especially not your older sister, you know, the one who never really got her shit together, and has 5 babies by 4 different dudes, and got herself off Welfare 5 years ago, decided to go back to college and is graduating summa cum laud in a few weeks, so now she Really does know everything!

 6.   Maybe Pseudo-Ex was meant for someone else, and you were meant for....I don't know
Everything happens for a reason.  Maybe Pseudo-Ex was meant for a widow with a son, who had a very difficult birth and had to get an episiotomy.  What if Pseudo-Ex's "package" matches her "equipment" better than he would match yours?  Your tiny equipment might rupture just thinking of his package!   Or,  what if Pseudo-Ex was really meant for a lonely little chick who lives alone in her mother's basement?  Lonely Chick has never had sex so the fact that Pseudo-Ex is a really passionless lover would make no difference to Lonely Chick.  They get married, and they have a son who winds up becoming a scientist who discovers a cure for substance abuse.  Its possible, right?

Saturday, February 27, 2016


to watch her sleep is
         nirvana heaven profound

protruding lip pillowy soft and
round with finger in her mouth
old burp cloth hanging from
clutching fingers unwilling to
let go even at 10 years

peace, this is beauty, love

hair not quite black, not so brown
just hers scrunchably soft
stiffly curly that can do
things I cannot do to mine
commonly in that bun-do she updoes
most days defying interference from
a mother’s comb

did I say how I love the voice God gave to her?
         sotto voce is not for us

it changes with her mood ascending or
descending scales for anger giddiness joy
or despair the sound of confidence that it
drops her voice does drop demanding commanding
stop! I am speaking

to watch her sleep is
         nirvana heaven profound
to watch her live is life

Zeneida Disla

Monday, October 12, 2015

Your Thing

Every Black woman (Caribbean, Afro-Latina, African American, African, West Indian - whatever the fuck you call yourself!) has to have a thing.  A place, a time of day, a corner of a room,  a notebook in her mind where she can escape the world and be.  My thing is the sauna.

I spend most of my life hiding my fat, short, brown, lumpy body. Long tunics are preferred to short belly showing shirts. My butt is covered, always, by some kind of apparel.  My body is most comforted when covered in layers of fabric in my ever present quest to camouflage myself and pretend no one can see me.

But not at the sauna! I saunter in wearing a light robe and then SPLAT! it all comes off.  You don't like it? Too bad for you cause I ain't putting my clothes back on until I'm good and ready. This thing, this Thing! It is so important to me.  I work out at the gym, sure.   But I have no delusions of transforming this body into a skinnier version of myself.  At best my goal is to lose a mere 40lbs.  And, if I do, I will still be overweight (very overweight.)  The real purpose of my gym time is to end up in that sauna 40 minutes later for 20 more minutes.  Forgetting or re-calculating, crying or talking myself into doing something I've been avoiding. I doze there sometimes or I daydream about some idiot guy I have a crush on.  I envy the bodies of others, or I thank God I have a fat ass! 

My life is stressful, but my problems are trifling in comparison to some women. Imagine if I had a guy beating me up?  What if I was in a shelter with 3 kids?  Or, what if I had a debilitating mental illness that I could not control with medication?   What if I was a newly released convicted felon?  That's some fucking stress!  There are many Black women in our country who are living these realities. And still, my reality is mine. We all need a thing, some Thing, like Virginia Woolf's room of one's own, to manage stress.  A doctor told me recently what has become my favorite new saying, "There's nothing stress can't do."  Heart attacks, bad skin, poor sleep, obesity, stomach ailments - "there's nothing stress can't do."

The wooden planks and the overpowering heat of the sauna assure me I'm alive.   My nudity demonstrates a bravery I may never replicate elsewhere.  The negotiation of naked bodies that seem to me, and to the world, so perfectly thin and perfectly white, makes me arrogant in my otherness.  I feel strong, acceptable and mostly, accepted, still capable of feeling, of walking back out into this crazy world.   

Monday, July 13, 2015


I'm not surprised that many people are defending comedian Bill Cosby against allegations of rape.  He is an icon; wealthy, famous and has been a role model for Black middle-class aspirants for decades. Even before he himself began to chastise poor and working class Black folk for such immoralities as having children out of wedlock, low educational attainment and perceived laziness as evidenced by under and unemployment, he was a symbol of what the Black Man was capable of attaining through education, clean living and focusing on family.  So, it must be a bitter pill for many people who have seen so many Black heroes fall to real or imagined conspiracies orchestrated by our government or the media - think O.J., Michael Jackson, Charles Rangel, Martin Luther King, Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan.  No one knows what really happened between Cosby and all of his accusers except themselves, but, it is not so difficult for me to believe that a man with that kind of power and prestige can get away with almost anything.