I’s Niggra!!

Note: When I opened my inbox this morning there was an email from my beloved daughter.  She had some things to get off of her chest.  Sometimes parenting can be hard and you just want to stop – you literally get tired of it, but it doesn’t go away. So I opened and read and it turned out to be quite a mind blowing experience on paper.  We spoke this morning and I asked permission to share because this speaks to and about us as a people and as humans as only someone who has experienced it can tell it.  So without further ado – CG….(this has been edited to take out names and some personal information).

This past weekend a nerve was struck with me when I was told I have self hatred issues.  I was mentioning how you always talk about me getting the “Black Muslim American experience” and she pretty much agreed with everything you said. In all honesty I’ve dealt with race issues my whole life and I was actually really upset when she said this.  The whole conversation started when I mentioned that it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I am Black. She was really confused by this saying what I’ve heard from other Black people before “But you look like a Black girl.”  I’m aware that I do because there’s no exact definition for what a Black person looks like since we come in many different shades and colors from all over the world. Sadly, growing up pretty much everyone I ever encountered, including other black people could just never grasp the fact that I was Black. I honestly never had these issues until I got to middle school. I was at dance team tryouts and a girl came up to me and seriously asked “What you is?” I had no idea what she was talking about and replied “A girl.” It was then that I realized while I knew I was Black, my appearance wasn’t necessarily what many African Americans would consider “Black looking”.  I was always told “Oh no you have to be mixed!” “Ok so you’re Black……and what else?” and other things like that. Whenever I would put my foot down and honestly told people that I wasn’t mixed I’m just black they would always act like they were disappointed or that I was in denial about who I really was. I’ll never forget when I was standing in the lunch line in 6th grade and this girl came into the cafeteria and shouted “It’s too many Black people in here!” She then saw me and added on “And Mexicans!”  To this day some of my BEST friends still ask me what my race is despite knowing very well who my parents are and having known me for many years. I even have a BEST friend who has told me “I don’t like calling you a Black girl, its better saying mixed.” Growing up I became very confused about my identity and honestly I didn’t want to be Black anymore. I felt as though because I could “pass” as so many different ethnicities I should have the right to choose which one I wanted to be. I laugh at it now but perhaps THEN was when I was actually dealing with self hatred issues. I always used to talk about wishing I had a culture; Wishing that I had a country to go back to, music, traditional dress, traditional food, etc. I wanted to belong to something, to some people, that not only looked like me but accepted me for who I am. Being raised within the Nation only further confused my racial identity. What nobody could ever understand was that it was really hard for me to go through not being accepted as Black by most people but then having Black pride and nationalism shoved down my throat at home. It got to the point where I wasn’t only deemed not Black because of my appearance but also because of my “proper behavior”. Therefore, I sadly allowed myself to give into accepting the stereotype of how Black people acted “ghetto, poor, ill mannered, loud, angry, violent, etc” and because I didn’t associate myself with any of those traits I didn’t want to associate myself with being Black.  I know better now, but at the time these feelings caused me great inner turmoil and probably what you could consider self hatred. I’m going to fast forward to me taking shahadah and practicing Islam today. In the beginning of me practicing, yes I did still face some racial issues especially when I started wearing my scarf. “What are you?”  Instantly turned into “Where are you from?” Instead of defending my race to people now I find myself always defending my country of origin which then leads to me defending my race. It’s the same scenario every time. “So where are you from?” Here. “Then where are your parents from?” Here. “Well then what about your grandparents?” Still here…I’m just a Muslim that happens to Black and American.” End conversation.  Once I studied Islam more I learned that Allah(swt) created all of us perfectly and a certain way for a reason. If I walked around being ashamed of who I am and lying about my heritage then I’d be ashamed of the way Allah’s(swt) made me. He gave me this skin, this hair, these eyes, this nose, this shape etc, because that’s what He wants me to have. At this point in my life I honestly don’t feel like I should be defined by my race. I’m perfectly fine with just being a Muslim. God judges me based on my actions and intentions not by how Black I am. As a Muslim I believe that on the Day of Judgment when our lives are presented to us it’s not going to matter for anybody what race they are, what country they come from, what their last name is, your good and bad deeds are what’s being accounted for. ‘O mankind! We have created you from a single male and female and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know each other. The most honorable of you in the sight of Allah are surety the righteous.” [The Holy Qur’an, Chapter 49 (Al-Hujurat) : Verse 13] and The Prophet said: ‘Indeed my friends and allies are not the tribe of so and so. Rather, my friends and allies are the pious wherever they may be.’This is not to say that I deny being Black at all. I also mentioned  that sometimes I tell people yea I’m Black racially but culturally I sometimes identify with lots of things like Pakistani, Arab etc. Here’s where I’ve learned something new about myself with the help of  her. She was quick to say that “No  you’re not Pakistani or Arab and you are Black culture.” At first I was taken aback by this because sadly I honestly still held onto the many stereotypes of what “Black culture” really is. Instantly I told her that Black people have no culture. We used to but as slaves we were stripped of it. Fried chicken and Kwanzaa to me are not “Black culture.” I was still looking for holidays and music and tradition etc but I now realize that none of those things are solely what define a “culture” She helped me realize that culture is in fact a broad term and that in MY Black experience, eating Indian/Pakistani food, watching Martin and Tyler Perry movies, listening to Isaac Hayes never can say goodbye, are all parts of my “Black cultural experience”. This is a snippet from an article I read that sums up how I feel right now:

What does it mean to be black?

At first, I believed in the stereotypical norms of being black, becoming painfully aware that they did not reflect my reality in the slightest.

Later, as I let go of society’s collective opinion about what it means to be black, I began to think being black only meant having a solid grasp of history and collective responsibility to the community. While I like that answer the most, it is not entirely true – there are many blacks who are willfully ignorant of their history, or devoid of a sense of collective responsibility. In the eyes of society, that does not make them any less black. So scratch that theory.

Then, I thought being black was an immutable given, as determined by your ethnic background – but that answer falls short on so many different levels.

I would like to say that being black is simply to claim blackness, but that is not quite true either. Does being black refer to specific hardships? Specific actions? Maintaining a certain kind of hairstyle? Being able to freestyle on command? Making sure your Melanin Quotient (MQ) stays in the high 90s?

What makes blackness so hard to define is that it implies there is a specific black experience that can be used as a reference. However, there is no specific black experience – there are many different stories that may overlap and interweave, but no definitive black experience.

No one is issued a “how to be black” handbook at birth – and I am sure if we were, half of us would spend our time rebelling against the guidelines in the book.

So, what is blackness?

I’m not sure there will ever be an answer to that question.

Anyways in conclusion, please stop pressing me about the “Black Muslim American experience” and let me live my Black Muslim American Experience. I’m Black and proud and while I don’t necessarily shout it loud I am willing to let people know lol. As of today I am a proud Muslim Black American young woman who enjoys experiencing other cultures but never denying my own and is just trying to make it through my freshman year of college. I love you, I appreciate you and Papa Reggie and all that you guys do and I love my biological dad and his crazy family for who they are and your crazy family for who they are. For now I’m just going to stick with my “cousins” as you and Papa Reggie like to call them and continue being me.

An Open Letter to My Husband

“Pam: Mr. Price, if ever I did a good deed in my life-if ever I thought a good thought-if ever I prayed a sincere and blameless prayer-if ever I wished a righteous wish-I am rewarded now. To be your wife is, for me, to be as happy as I can be on earth.
Mr. Price: Because you delight in sacrifice.
Pam: Sacrifice! What do I sacrifice? Famine for food, expectation for content. To be privileged to put my arms round what I value-to press my lips to what I love-to repose on what I trust: is that to make a sacrifice? If so, then certainly I delight in sacrifice.”
― Paraphrased from Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

 

I remember like it was yesterday, standing in front of the Queen Latifah poster at Phipps waiting on yet another ‘blind’ date. I had no expectation except that maybe I’d have a good time.  Our internet and phone conversations had gone well and you almost electrocuting yourself was a nice opening touch, laugh.  I was an old pro at this whole internet dating thing, but I still had faith.  I always approached each of the meetings with the attitude that this might be a real connection. 

Six months later, as I lay beside you on our mattress on the floor, I couldn’t believe that I had effectively broken every real or imaginary rule I had ever called myself having to be with you.  It was so swift and complete how I just couldn’t breathe without you. How I got naked for you and how I revealed myself to you.  Each imprint we made together is like a tattoo on my soul.  We were wilding out in this love we discovered with each other!!

One year later, Standing at that Chapel in Vegas felt like the most natural thing I had ever done in my life.  In one year, over 20 some odd years of not necessarily damaging but telling interaction with men had led to this. I wasn’t sure what I had done to deserve this, but I wasn’t going to question it.

Well here we are my love –  Just shy of 2100 days of being in each other lives.  Five years married and Six years of being together.  I have to concentrate very hard to make out the faces, places, circumstance and outcomes of my past. All I see is you.  What a wild abandoned love we have.  It frightens me sometimes that I can’t find a reason to ever leave you.  I am not accepting that one day you may not be with me due to death.  I sleep lightly when you are not laying next to me.  Cliché’ and corny, but YOU COMPLETE ME.

I wanted to write this ode to you  – not only to tell you how much I love you, but to THANK YOU.  This has not been easy.  I know it has not.  You came into a situation as a grown man getting with a grown woman.  We both had to move to a bigger house, to fit all the ‘baggage’ we had comfortably.  Yet, together we began to empty those suitcases and instead fill them with wonderful ‘memories’.  You’ve had to step into one of if not the most unique, yet dysfunctional family structures you’ve probably ever seen.  The wind tunnel will suck the living life out of you, but you stepped in and remained Mr. Price and never wavered.  You gave me the whereforall to see some things in a totally different light and the courage to just do me.  You also had to become someone’s Father.  That’s not an easy job and I will forever remember when you said to me, “the only reason I went forward with marrying you is because you didn’t have a savage child, if she had of been an issue, we wouldn’t have happened”.  I am forever grateful that you stepped in, over the carnage of broken graveside promises and buckets of bullshit and took my child in your arms, holding her tight and lifting her up, wrapping her in the love only a Father can give.  I can never repay or thank you for the gifts of life and love you’ve given her – especially when marrying me, caused you to lose the relationship you had with your own child………

You are there for us, you are a hard worker, you are not a complainer, you take care of us in all facets of the words from getting us ice cream late at night, to being a driver, to rubbing me down without asking for a rub down back. 

You also taught me about love.  I can’t even count the number of times you say you love me.  How many times you hug and kiss me, how many times you kept going even when I was uncomfortable coming from a place where I was unfamiliar with this type of affection.  You kept planting and nurturing those seeds and now I hug and say I love you to not only you but everyone close in my life.

The biggest thing I’d like to thank you for though, is sticking with me as your love has allowed me to put so much aside that I finally am faced with..me and the difficult task of peeling away those layers to become a more authentic me.  You’ve cared, you’ve held me when I’ve cried, you’ve alerted my besties when I needed that which only they give me.  Right now as I battle demons both personal and otherwise, you’ve never wavered.  You’ve never wavered.

You’ve put your own goals, dreams and aspirations on hold more than once to keep this family afloat. You’ve worked jobs others may laugh at, you’ve taken bullshit from folks with half the soul and spirit you possess, you’ve sat outside her house hoping for a glimpse, you’ve added such a warm spirit of love and joy to everyone you’ve touched, you’ve embraced folks I haven’t and gotten involved in situations I won’t and you still will dress up in sky blue polyester pants or Laker socks because I asked you to.

If I had all the money and all the fame and all the glory it would not equal one ounce of what you give me every day Reginald and I just want you to know that!  YOU, MY LOVE, ARE MY ORIGINAL MAN, THE MAKER, OWNER AND CREAM OF THIS PLANET EARTH AND GOD OF THIS UNIVERSE!

This Right Here is Urgent Like A Motherfucker!

 

We sat on the bed forehead to forehead as if we were passing back and forth some great knowledge or emotion between us. At that moment it was as if he was sucking out all of the memories of love gone bad and replacing them with images, sounds, and smells of our relationship. Usually, I don’t think this is wise – those threads in your life fabric are an important part of who you are, however I find it odd that as the years wear on, my memory has become fuzzy with the loves of the past and now just pretty much rotate around this man that I love now.

 

Though he has made up his own version of the story, I remember just about every second of our entire relationship. I remember standing in front of the movie poster at Phipps Plaza waiting to have our first date. I remember seeing him coming towards me grinning very wide. My first thought “He got a lot of teeth” LOL He was sooo friendly. I mean his aura was just joyful. We saw that movie with Queen Latifah Holiday something or the other and even in the dark – there was just this flow of energy from him that I felt safe in. I walked away from that date saying he’s nice I’d like to get to know him.

 

I don’t know what happened. Every rule I had ever had ‘pretend or otherwise ( cause we know we keep these two sets of rules you know like “all time spent on the phone counts as getting to know you time so yes I can sleep with you, lol lol lol ) just FLEW OUT THE WINDOW. The more we talked the more we wanted to see each other, the more we saw each other, the more we needed for all of this to happen. All I remember is every emotion across the human spectrum going on at the same time,at warp speed and then some.

 

A funny tidbit, he had moved out of one place to an apartment. I helped him with this. On the 29th day, it was decided that since he had not stepped food in said apartment EVER – that he give it up before the rent was due again and just move on in, lol lol We got engaged at six months and married the first anniversary (give or take a few days) to our first date.

 

I can honestly say I am one of those people, who might not have had some things come true – but when I say I was presented the man that was tailored made for me in 99% of the ways I might have dreamed up in a teenage journal many moons ago – I am the one, lol So in retrospect, I have hit the lottery.

 

Really ya’ll, this man is the man for me. I think that the best thing I can say about what’s different this time is that HE’S PRESENT IN THE RELATIONSHIP ALL THE TIME!! He is always front and center in our lives as a couple and a family, irregardless of what else is going on. He also (well maybe not all the time, lol) seems excited to be in the home.

 

I still, even though we haven’t been married THAT long, am amazed at how we’ve just….connected. Everyone knows I’m not the deepest depth in the ocean and I thrive off of all things superficial and totally useless to bringing world peace, lol yet he can talk about that with me on the same level as we talk about other stuff.

 

The fun we have is like no fun I’ve ever had with anyone male or female for that matter. Just a full blown testimony of love and joy when we talk and hang out with one another. Our entire conversation tone is one that is probably so ignorant on so many levels but we revel in it. We dig deep into our insecurities and bounce them off of each other in jest and unlike with ANYONE else under the sun – they work with us.

 

He also has totally revamped the way I love. He brought the word full time into my home. Now we all don’t leave, step away or hang up without giving the sentiment. We keep the word love stoked in the family fireplace. We hug and touch one another as a family and he and I stay all cuddled up. I’ve just given up on some levels of personal space because it just doesn’t work in my house. The joy I feel when I’m in the middle surrounded by the two of them climbing all over me is one I never thought possible (I’ve spoken about all my struggles with touch in previous posts). The thing is, between him and me, it’s not even sexual most of the times – it’s more emotional. We pull and push this energy of emotion between us all the time.

 

He takes care of me (and my child) in a way, I can’t even describe. Like a lot of couples, we’ve developed this whole ebb and flow thing between us in our language with our pitches and tones. We’ve assumed these ‘roles’ that might even be annoying to us, but it works.

 

 

 

This is a rich yet financially broke relationship, lol Yet it’s the fullest one I’ve ever been in. Even just walking to the mail box is full of activity and flurry. Everything we’ve experienced together to this point has been like we were born yesterday and are just experiencing things. He totally knocks that notion that because we’ve had life – we can’t experience it together. we’ve had fun when we’ve split $2, lol lol lol

 

I think I might be mad that I’m so open and emotional about this man, lol lol I can be sitting with him and start to feel a physically falling inside of me falling in love with him over and over and over. I can pretty much confirm NOBODY has seen me like this with or around a man. He got me O-P-E-N lol

 

You know I was going to add the requisite we aren’t perfect, there are struggles, blah blah balh but fuck that – why must we always add a weak brick into something to make everyone else feel good? That stuff does not run in the foreground of this relationship.

 

I guess I just wanted to really let some of this love ooze out, because it coats my very soul. It’s rich, wet, sticky and lush. It blooms and flowers all year long, it thrives in darkness and in light, It flaps in the wind like a colorful cloth. It’s the last scene of The Color Purple, Love Jones and every wedding in a Tyler Perry Movie, lol lol

 

I can remember and see when I was in the dark, “Hear My Call” that Jill Scott moment, I’ve taken to calling it and really just wasn’t sure what was in my future when it came to a man. I guess that was me pulling the slot machine and then as I watched the 777’s come up – I was happy, but when I saw that it was a progressive machine – I can’t be anything but humble and thankful.

 

I also think that as part of this ‘wardrobe change’ I’ve been talking about – this relationship is like the most expensive, frilly, sexy and supportive set of underwear I could ever ask for. You can’t do anything but put on one hell of an outfit with that as your undergarments.

 

as you say RG “I love you, I’m in love with you and I want to be in love with you” DITTO

 

 

 

Um where has your punk ass been?

Peeking from under the covers and clearing my throat – what’s up blog world?  I’m sure by now my little readership is hanging on by a thread.  However, I really didn’t have anything of substance to write about and I had begun to get into this whole on Wednesday we will do this and on Saturday we will do that and I really wanted this to be a free style space.  So it hasn’t been free flowing.  However, over the last couple of weeks all kinds of electrons have been poppin off and I’m now ready to try to get it all out.  So for all practical purposes – I think I’m back.

What to the American Slave is your 4th of July?

I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy — a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.” ~ Frederick Douglass~

And Now A Word From……….RG

(Sometimes RG likes to drop a few lines in my blogsphere and to celebrate my birthday – he wanted to guest blog this fine Monday – enjoy)

This weekend was time well spent with my wife and her friends celebrating their birthdays.  Never have I been in a relationship where the waters are choppy and stormy sometimes, but we always remain cool. I look forward to our future together.  It takes time to develop a love like the one we have.  It can’t be duplicated over night.  I wish I could clone what we have and pass it on to other people.  We thoroughly enjoy each others company no matter the situation.  It’s been rare for me to find that.  I always saw myself as the matriarch in a relationship.  I would think it’s a good one and wind up looking like ‘Captain Save ‘Em’ from their problems or self-esteem by putting myself aside.  It’s also fun to see the camaraderie that surrounds her.  She has a great support group of girlfriends.  What’s even better is that our antics are a blessing to others.  I haven’t felt this free to express my creativity with any woman in my life and that includes my mother.  I truly am in love with and love this woman.  I don’t have to tell her everyday because she knows it through my actions, but I do anyway.  Looking forward to the future with her, but I won’t rush it. I’m enjoying the now.

 

 

 

Again, Happy Birthday Baby!

 

 

Everybody Doesn’t Spend Their 40 hours Working for the Man

One of the most anchoring images that shaped my visual of a man is that my Father never and let me repeat that NEVER worked for another man. Even if we had 3 pieces of rice, a tic tac and spit for dinner, that wasn’t his journey in life working for another man in a 9-5 capacity. That has shaped so much of how I evaluate and view the qualities I look for in a man. A lot of folks know this but this also bears staying, I have never and let me repeat that as well, NEVER been impressed by no negroes J-O-B. I am happy for you, I am glad you are able to feed yourself and your family – but don’t expect me to be jumping up and down cause you got a Job, that’s just not my style.

Several folks know that my husband has been a victim of the economy and is no longer employed. I appreciate all the kind words and the folks that really care about our family. I also do appreciate those (whether you know it or not) that feel some kinda need to decide that our family is doomed or giving us the ‘can’t wait to see them get evicted’ side eye – ya’ll keep me on my toes. It does annoy me as well. There have been some instances where folks have decided to address this topic with my teenager. I am like so available it makes no sense, so I’m not real sure why, if there are questions, they are not directed at an adult that lives in our house. I’ve even heard that there is an assumption that I might even leave my husband because he doesn’t have a job and here’s the kicker – HE’S NOT LOOKING FOR ONE!!

Yea you read that right – he’s not looking for one and I’m currently perfectly fine with that. **wallslide**

When I met him, I scrolled through all the things that I might want from a mate and yes being gainfully employed was on the list. I have been through ‘taking care of a man” and that’s not something that I wished to repeat ESPECIALLY if that man was not giving me anything to make me feel good about said taking care of. I fell in love and married the man I am with because he dug into the second tier list like no other man has even had the interest to. You know we have that top list that mirrors pretty much every other woman – that list is pre-written and we are all under pressure to make sure we have that list to pull out, THEN there is our ‘other’ second tier list, the one where you want him to want to watch the five heartbeats with you, you want him to enjoy New Edition, you want him to like to dress up like warrior etc. etc. That list that really turns you on mentally, spiritually and intellectually. This is the man who did that for me and this is the reason why I married him.

Another reason why despite me having some really fab Brothers in my life (because outside of maybe a few, most of the Brothers I’ve dealt with are really cool solid black men in their way. They might not have ultimately been for me and I might sometimes call them niggas (lol) but overall I won’t bash em – we both stirred the pot to make that stew boil over, lol . Where was I? OH, lol one of the other reasons that my husband made my toes curl was because he had that something that lived outside the norm,, outside the fields, outside the ‘what folks think you are suppose to be doing’. He had the glint of, dare I say it and I’ve mentioned it before FREEDOM in his eyes. That was highly highly a desirable trait. He also was a hustler, a believer and an owner of his life. I fell in love with this man – not the one who went to work, had folks talk to him all kinds of crazy, wear down his back and knees, then think everybody suppose to be all happy cause he got a name tag, a desk, a computer and can attend the office Christmas party.

His name on line when we met was XcorpthugX That right there could have probably gotten him the drawers, but I digress, lol lol lol

I say all this to say and let me be very plain about this:

JUST BECAUSE A MAN DOESN’T HAVE A JOB DOESN’T MEAN HE IS NOT WORKING!!!

One of the main things taken away from the Blackman during his continued servitude in this country is the ability to be in charge of how he wants to take care of his family. Some men are perfectly fine with and do a good job at this task by working in the traditional manner at a job. They do well, they feel good and I am very proud of that Black man who consistently does that. There are some men, however, who ache and wish to be free of that conformity and want to dig inside of their head and bring an idea to life. Nothing wrong with these Brothers either. I am a believer that all men should have an opportunity if it can be worked out to pursue that. If a man and a woman have discussed and come to an agreement on the terms of this – then it’s nobody’s business what’s happening in that house unless they invite you in.

My husband works everyday 7 days a week, getting his grind on. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t – but he hasn’t given up and he’s taking this opportunity and working it to the max. Sometimes it won’t work and that’s when being a man kicks in. I’m sure my man is fully aware of his responsibilities to this family and when to fold em, if the tough gets really tough.

He takes EXCELLENT care of us in all the ways I evaluate what it means to take care of me, the teenager and the bonus daughter. He also takes care of my friends and my Mother. Things are getting real out here and like life, none of that which we hold in high esteem is not a given and we may all have to start re-evaluating what is important to us, how we are going to survive and the roles that we all play (including the children) in making that happen. There are several of us women out here who are married to the type of man I’m married to and there is a kindred spirit around playing our position so that man can see if He can do it. It can be frustrating at times but it may just pay off ten-fold. There is never a right time for the following things: Having a Baby, getting jacked up by bill collectors or the Government and stepping out of your box into this great big world to see if you can make a dent. Some things you just have to do.

Though I don’t owe anyone any kind of explanation as to what’s happening up in my home, I did want to speak on a dynamic that maybe someone can take something away from and let folks know that I am in support of this, WE will know and talk about if the current arrangement needs to change, you wanna help me – SUPPORT HIM, come out to some of our functions. Don’t assume just because we aren’t doing what you and yours hold important we aren’t doing what WE hold important. I am a pretty open person, I will tell folks usually when shit is hitting the fan and I’m not to proud to ask for some help. Please stop asking my child about what is happening in my home with the adults and let’s ALL continue to uplift and support each other – in a minute we might all be living under the same roof, lol lol lol

 

 

Gettin In The Way……

Dag Blamit!!  I have had NO TIME to blog!!  It seems that my daytime activities have been crunk since the first of the year.  That’s usually my time to think on such matters that belong on a blog.  However, lately I havent had a chance. 

There is good news however, I got my Ghetto Lottery Ticket (My W-2) in record time this year and as soon as that bad boy drops I will be getting me a laptop!  This will change around some things at home and allow me to write in the evenings.  That should be interesting to both you and me.

So hang in there until like the second week of February when I will be getting on the sho nuff regular!

Open Letter – Volume 1

Greetings and Salutation!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

How are you my dear?  I hope that the entire holiday period, however you chose to acknowledge it, went over well.   I had me a good ole time, lol   A lot of the New Years eve celebrations I don’t remember – but hey that’s what makes them great, lol lol

 Man this bitch named Alberta brought her “clippers” up and through this fine State of  unprepared that I live in and took us for a loop.  Now it wasn’t the storm of 1993 (the one we can’t seem to get out of our system) but it was ugly.  It’s just cold and I picked a fine time to decide to conserve Gas etc. by beginning to take the train into work. I should have waited till April.  The whole vibe is working my nerves.  I couldn’t even get out of the driveway at our Apt!!  My SUV was like “don’t know where you going but I’m taking my ass home” and slid right back down the hill, lol   Folks cutting a fool you hear me?  Jumping off bridges to avoid skidding cars, leaving cars just all over the street and stocking up and booze and DVD’s.  I’m mad because I’m on like day 11 of looking like a Butch trucker from Indiana (just sounded like a place where she would reside) and I’m ready to look cute again! 

 Otherwise things are fine. I have rebelled against the entire resolution stuff because I like continuity in my life – all that pressure to acknowledge my faults and then do better only to fail is depressing.  At 43 it seems that the stuff that I am at fault at I’m just at fault at – so I have moved on to list B and see can I work on that, lol 

 I am still in the throes – well not as bad as I was, with this whole Michael Jackson thing.  I think at this point I’m just excited to be able to indulge in my passion on the level that I am now.  All the websites, articles, fan groups etc.  A whole heap of Jacksons second and third generation are on Twitter, lol  It’s been hella cool. 

Well I am the mother of a 16 year old now.  That has been interesting. It’s like October 27, 2009 at 10:05 am the moment she was born – she went beserk.  The crying fits and utter despair have WORE ME OUT!!  Good Lawd!!  I gotta stay strong though and just ride the wave. 

The 3rd year wedding anniversary would have come and gone by the time you receive this letter.  Four years together. I’m still trying to figure out exactly how that happened.  Time is zooming along at a speed that we can’t afford to trip up. 

 I am still in a place where I be damn if I’m going to allow someone to plot my course for me.  I am post school, middle of job market implosion and right now I am being still.  I also am looking at the fact that I might not need something new to do but I need someplace new to do it in.  I need some social interaction!  I sit in the back in a corner with nobody – there’s no traffic and no conversation for me and my skin is turning grey as we speak from the lack of ‘life’.  So I will be on the hunt for that. Something that speaks to me as interesting as opposed to something that speaks to me at $75K and up.  Now if that speaks to me first – I won’t throw a drink in it’s face – but I’m not whoring myself out for that prize.  I am an old whore for this that I have and it a hard job. 

 I also took a moment to stop and evaluate exactly how much I want to live.  For the past year I have apparently been shoveling loads of dirt in prep for my death with the way I was treating my body – a good spirit in a decaying body is sooo not cute!  So for December I detoxed of the sugar and a lot of the carbs (and abstained from land meats) and got back on all of my meds in the right way.  I just became conscious. It’s not about denial it’s about moderation and that’s how I want to live.  I have seen great jumps in my health!! 

Well I just wanted to let you know that I’m alive and well and not afraid to look forward to 2010.

Regards

Me