YES!!! The 31st day of October means the LAST day of the National Blog Post Month Challenge. My baby girl, Lala or Kissyface, as I call her…asked me via Twitter to participate and I dragged in a few pals so I wouldn’t suffer alone. LMAO. I Kid…I kid. I am thankful for those who came along and put on their blogging drawlz. You all did your thing. I have to say…this was a VERY important month and Lala is like some kinda on-purpose-by-accident GENIUS. This month, two very important platforms were championed. Breast Cancer Awareness Month and Domestic Violence Awareness month came and is now gone, but the disease and the dilemmas of violence remain. There has been some really good stories concerning both on the blogs of those who came along on this ride with me. Please go take a peek at the list of lovelies who participated.

I will now say THANK YOU, ladies and gents for participating. I love you all. You made me proud. There were some days that NONE of us wanted to blog, but we pulled together and did it. What’s the purpose you say? We’ve shared our stories/testimonies, we’ve learned SO much about each other, we’ve gained connections (I see you guys out there following each other and holding each other down in the comments!), we’ve grown literally, LITERALLY…and we’ve expressed ourselves in a forum where we’ve been supported and applauded. 

MY JOY!! You did it!! I remember last year…you tried, but you didn’t get through it due to some unforeseen things going on. THIS year…in SPITE of what came at you, you caught bullets in your teeth and became this wonder-blogger that I’m SO proud of. Sis, I love you. Thanks for coming along.

DEE aka Afrodeezha! WOW. Your last blog had me in tears, and I shed a little as I write this. Your stories were motivational, real, well-rounded and inspiring. I learned more about you and cherish you dearly (as if I could love you more). Thank you for coming along…and dragging…

THUGROCKSTAR!!! You ROCK babe! You put it down over there. You’re FUNNY, witty, intelligent and damned consistent. You’re definitely a blog worth following and reading. I dig you man…I dig you…you buttery mothafucka! LMAO (I kid…please don’t beat me up. *mind wandering* okay…shaking off that vision) HAHA!!

GOD’ESS! ~ Woman…you were more prompt than  ME most days. LOL I wish I’d gotten the chance to read your blogs on 360, but we weren’t connected then. NOW that we are…I can honestly say this (and I’m not being biased). What YOU thought was short, considered “cheating” and may have thought you didn’t put your all in…beats out a LOT of folks’ blogs who do “put their all in” to their blogs and fail MISERABLY! Your posts were thoughtful, thought provoking, intimate and straight to the point. That is needed…especially in the day of the short attention span. I’m glad you are now blogging…I’m sure after a short siesta you’ll return…right? O_O lol…THANK you and LOVE you!

MY SUNDAE! You tried. LOL. It’s not easy, but you tried. I love that you did. I know you’re a woman about the world…superwoman with the prettiest locs flying in the wind, free-spirited aloft the city…so yea. LOL LOVE YOU STILL. (she still has some read-worthy blogs…go getchusum). Thanks, sis!

Last, but not la-la-least…Lala. Kissyface. Artsyface. The girl with the rocker look and the sweet girl voice. THANK YOU! Thanks for bringing me along and for inspiring this year AND last year’s challenge. You’ve helped me to cultivate my blogger skills by being able to write impromptu and without thinking twice. I’m soooo in my head when thinking up blog topics, but this challenge has helped me just remove the filter and say what I need to say. Thanks again, babe. Love you much! (Um, can you inform me the next time you pack your blog bags and move? Please and thanks in advance)

~phew~ I’m done, y’all…see you in a few days…or weeks. lol

*doing my end zone dance* GOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!!!

tell him ~ lauryn hill

This song is so deep…so beautiful and my favorite off of the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. I automatically cry when I hear it. It doesn’t help that I’m feeling some kinda way right now. 

Here’s the lyrics and the song. If you don’t already know them, just take a look. Lovely song. Tomorrow, is the last blog for the challenge. See you then. Good night, loves…

~tell him~

Yo heh heh tell him it’s like uhh you know uhh
Sweet sweet SWEET tell him

Let me be patient let me be kind
Make me unselfish without being blind
Though I may suffer I’ll envy it not
And endure what comes
Cause he’s all that I got and
tell him…

Tell him I need him [yeah]
Tell him I love him [tell him]
And it’ll be alright
*Background singing* Telll himmm be alright be alright
Tell him tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
It’ll be alright

Now I may have faith to make mountains fall
But if I lack love then I am nothin’ at all
I can give away everything I possess
But am without love then I have no happiness
I know I’m imperfect [I know I’m imperfect]
& not without sin [& not without sin]
But now that I’m older all childish things end
and tell him…

Tell him I need him [yeah]
Tell him I love him [tell him]
And it’ll be alright
*Background singing* Telll himmm be alright be alright
Tell him tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
It’ll be alright

I’ll never be jealous
And I won’t be too proud
Cause love is not boastful
Oooh and love is not loud
Tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
Everything’s gonna be alright [w/ adlibs]
ieee iee ieee iee iee iee iee iee

Now I may have wisdom and knowledge on Earth
But if I speak wrong then what is it worth?
See what we now know is nothing compared
to the love that was shown when our lives were spared
and tell him…

Tell him I need him [yeah]
Tell him I love him [tell him]
And it’ll be alright
*Background singing* Telll himmm be allright be alright
Tell him tell him I need him
Tell him I love him
It’ll be alright

Quit Playing, Mookie!!

Damn, Mookie!!! “Why can’t you just be a MAN, Mookie.  Be a FUCKING MAN, Mookie!!” ~ “Tina” (Rosie Perez) “Do The Right Thing”

I love that movie…I love that LINE! More than anything, I love to say it to just about anyone male or female when either, they are actually playing with me (for shits and giggles) or they are TRYING to play me O_O.

What pisses me off and will make me consider detachment, dis-ownership or a straight dolphin’s fin slap across your mouf…is emotional games. I have had this convo with 2 of my SiStars in one week and I must say…we’re in complete disbelief at how some people love to be vague. 

My sis Joy says, that when a guy likes you and won’t say so…what he’s really doing is waiting for you to be assed out and laid out vulnerable so he can be SURE that you’re feeling him. YET…if after you’ve stripped down ball ass naked and he’s STILL not declared any feelings, he’s playing this game:

I-want-her-to-like-me-more-than-I-like-her-so-she-won’t-go-anywhere-but-if-it-goes-wrong-and-I- discover-I-DON’T-want-to-be-tied-down-I-can-say…”I NEVER SAID THAT!”


NOT COOL!! What…WHY is it so hard for a grown ass adult to say what is on his mind? Why is it that these men of THIS day and age want absolute assuredness concerning the object of his potential affection? The days of High School rejection are gone. At least they SHOULD be. There IS risk to the ego when avowing interest in a woman…but, SO WHAT!!! Say what it is. Do something about what you want…and YES, men are the captains of the ship called “Courtship”. 




Yes, courtship is the man’s arena. He should be the one to speak up. I’m an analog girl living in a digital world (LOL). I don’t do desperate chases of men. I don’t do half-assed averments. Either you say, “I like you” or some related phrase and let me as a woman say what I want from that point, or clearly you’re not THAT interested. I’m tired of giving guys the excuse of “He’s scared”. O_O Grow some testicular fortitude, jump on her back and tame that filly. Okay…don’t jump on her back guys…but you feel me. Any guy sitting back in the belief that HE should be chased…is questionable in his security as a man. Say what you want guys…no dude is supposed to sit securely on the sidelines and await to be asked to dance. Stuff that Sadie Hawkins shit back where it came from. 

I feel if a man cannot speak up to say “Hi, My name is Dick…nice to meet you Kitty Jones”…then I wonder if he’ll stand up for me. For himself in our union. For us against others. If women take the aggressive courting role, is she not emasculating her counterpart? Besides, you know we live in a “damned” society. Damned if you do…damned if you don’t. 

She takes the lead…she’s a controlling, ball-busting, possibly gold-digging, bitch.

She doesn’t…she’s a frigid, possibly stuck-up, insecure woman afraid of her own shadow.

I think it’s important to be able to speak up and say what you want as a man. After that, a woman who is mutually interested in you should meet you halfway and join the courtship or excuse herself. NO one should play emotional games with another. In this world of extreme reaction to minor infractions…you can get hurt. LITERALLY. Not saying ~I~ would do such a thing, but I know folks who aren’t too keen on the idea of being played with. If you’ve stopped eating “hot lunch” in a cafeteria and calling your classes “periods”…then you may just be too old for this shit.

Come on, Mookie…quit playing. Okay?

Who Cares?

Who cares that I’m late…

Who cares that this blog is straight filler…no substance?

I don’t. I’ll be glad when it’s over.

I’ve talked about love, life, tits, movies, domestic violence, friends, food…etc. I’m spent. Or maybe what it is, is that what I really have on my mind I’m too concerned that viewing eyes will see it and see themselves. I never was good at that…not caring whose feelings I hurt.

Alas, I blog of nothingness when I’m irritated up my ass at folks. I guess I’m still rolling hardcore with Oscar. He likes me. He understands me right now. I want to say BLECH, to everything.

Oh, totally off topic…why in the FOREIGN FUCK, did some Latino dude get nasty with me at the job today? I’m standing there, waiting for a cab…he’s blowing leaves and actually yells at me (not just because it was loud…but because he was frustrated) and says bitch-style, “EXCUSE ME!!!!” I say “bitch-style”, because he said it like a true diva bitch would. Hand on his skinny hip and all. I said, “Where do you want me to go?”. It was a legitimate question. This fucka huffed and said, “EXCUSE ME!!!” And waved his frail arm in the opposite direction. I wanted to take his antiquated leaf blower on wheels and run his ass over and then blow him down the street. JACKASS!  He probably was mad because him widdle friend had a super lightweight backpack blower that did the job he was doing twice as fast. No wonder the other dude was nicer…his back and arms weren’t numb from pulling a 70lb blower around.

Who cares about his stupid landscaping job? I didn’t. Not today!

Anyway…I’m tired. I’m about to lie down and pray that Oscar breaks up with me really soon. His crib is beginning to smell like old onions and fish ass…

Good night.

Beautiful Bean Footage

Do you know how some people have a soundtrack to their life? I have a movie reel as well. My father is a movie connoisseur and always had all the movies hot off the block…aka bootleg. Well, actually…he had what are referred to as “promotional copies”. It’s the actual DVD/tape meant for the vendor to view before purchase. He got the hook up constantly. If I wanted a movie…he got it for me. I usually watched until the tape popped and the video was no more good.

SO, tonight…I was in-boxing my sis (as per usual our routine) and I told her I was watching “Grease”. I went on to tell her that I remember seeing that movie in the theater with my 2 childhood besties, their dad and their dad’s girlfriend. (Except now, I’m remembering that I saw that movie with mom and her friend and kids) The movie I saw with the childhood besties was “Stir Crazy”. That movie was too funny. Although, I do believe that it wasn’t suitable for us kids. I saw “Beat Street” with my godsisters, their dad and their cousin. I loved that movie. I was crying when Ramo died. 😦

I remember viewing “Annie”, with my class. I still have the brass keychain which is an actual stamping of the tickets. I’ve loved Annie ever since, viewing that among other movies umpteen times without tiring. Something about Ms. Hannigan’s (Carol Burnett) crazy tub shinny swigging ass ordering around a school-ful of moppets.

I remember that dad had folks in the PJ’s knocking on the door borrowing movies.  He had the TV hooked up to the stereo system which made it sound like theater surround sound. When the kids and I watched Poltergeist the night of my birthday party…we felt like we could hear that creepy short chick…right beside us.

I remember that I was deathly afraid of “The Exorcist”, “The Thing”, “The Omen” and “The Shining”. I was also scared after watching “Dracula” in the movies with mom and our crew. My cousins cracked jokes on me for a day because I cried in refusal to watch Linda Blair throw up pea soup. Hell nah…get that outta here. Today? I’m a horror flick lover. The scarier the better. I got mad when “The Grudge”, “The Village”, and “Hostel” were wack. O_O

On the flip side, my dad forbade me to watch “Caligula”, which of course I sneaked to find and watch with my first love. I was between 14 and 15…which made him 17 or 18. WRONG MOVE. We’re watching all of this explicit sexual content (one scene so unforgettable, where dude fists a man’s ass on his wedding night O_O) and getting riled up. There was everything from deformities and bestiality to homosexual sex, which was unheard of then. While watching…my crush ends up feeling me up…that is, until my grandmother comes home. *insert scene of us jumping up and sitting on opposite sides of the room before she sees us*.

I have my movies that I watch ad nauseum, every time they air. I’m REALLY a movie buff, so I deplore movies aired on cable networks where there are commercials. Movies like “Color Purple”, “Titanic”, “The Notebook”, “Last Dragon”, “What’s Love Got To Do With It”, “Coming to America”, etc…all should be viewed with no interruption.

I am the girl who wants to make it to the movies on time for previews and credits and will sit there at the end for any blooper reels, soundtrack info or to spot who played whom. If a movie I’ve never watched comes on and I’ve missed the first 15 minutes…I won’t watch. I’ll look for the next airing so I can catch it. The most intricate pieces to the plot happen in the first FIVE to ten minutes of a movie. Miss that and you’ll be asking, “Wait…what’s going on?” until the plot is revealed. LOL

Some of my faves?

Star Wars Trilogy
Hope Floats
Pillow Talk (with Doris Day and Rock Hudson)
Sleepaway Camp
Steel Magnolias
Terms of Endearment
Malcolm (X)
Distinguished Gentleman
Which Way is Up?
I’m Gonna Git You Sucka
Dr. Detroit
Howard the Duck
Sixteen Candles
Fifth Element
Dirty Dancing
…I can go on and on. I know I’m missing stuff…but, oh well. That’s bound to happen when your love of movies is vast. I love obscure independent movies, classics, black and white (like “The Hounds of Baskerville”), science fiction, horror, suspense, drama…yea. You get it.

Movies along with music, TV shows and books…are key to helping time stamp your life’s moments. I remember MANY things around movies, songs, what I was reading…or even where I visited. Share some of YOUR favorite movie moments with me…

…ROLL that beautiful bean footage! lol

Oscar da Kween

Actually, Oscar’s girl’s name is Grungetta. LOL. I am kinda her (without the unibrow). I’ve been SO cranky and moody lately. NO…I’m not on nor am I expecting or over a period. Women ARE allowed to have moods that have shit to do with their womanly hormones. (see how snappy I am?)

I think I’m just going through a time where my patience wick is so very short and so easily sparked. The slightest infraction can send me into O_O mode. I’ve given at least three to four people that look today at work. I WANTED to say STFU…but that is highly inappropriate. To say that I was racing against time to get home is an understatement.

I remember being the kind of adolescent and young woman who adored physical company. I still do…except for lately, I adore it sporadically and briefly. Take my Joy. I love visiting my girl. I told her today that after being there for a bit…I’m ready for my own bed and space. The moment I get home? I miss my friend and want to return. I wonder if it’s a programmed sense of understanding that the weekend ends and that Sunday is dedicated to rest and preparation for the coming week. I guess it’s easier to just prep your mind for home rather than put off what has to be done.

I just feel irritable. My tolerance is getting lower and lower for people who don’t know how to be up front. I can’t deal with adults who play emotional games. I also hate when I say someone is cool and they prove me wrong…not to ME, but to whom I said they were cool to. I gotta learn to quit vouching for fools. I am also a woman who respects boundaries. I hate when people enter into my space, whether spiritual or physical and don’t regard the lines I’ve drawn. Back off man! I guess it comes down to the fact that I need some alone time. I put myself in time outs when I get like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings…and I don’t want to get mine hurt either. Oh, yea…you thought when you snap and become curt with people that folks just let you? Some, yes…but most know how to fight back.  Especially, if I love them…all I want to do is maintain the friendship and take my little mini-siesta. Some people take that personally and think it’s about them…others know that I’ll return to my loving self. I’m so grateful I have the kind of crew that is more like the latter.

I’m sure it’s just a “moment” and that I’ll be okay soon. It’s nothing deep. When you’re as receptive to people and their stuff as I can be…it’s only natural that I get overloaded and need to download and decompress.

Well, let me go back into my can. I’ll morph back into Kween ANY moment now. 

*slamming lid*

Hit By Love: Domestic Violence Month

I’ve been putting this off for a couple of weeks. I knew that I had to write this. It’s my responsibility as a survivor. So, for MY part of the campaign for this month’s Domestic Violence Awareness platform…I speak. I speak for women across the country who are afraid to tell their stories…and for the women who weren’t as blessed as I am to come away safely. For the women, who lost their lives to the hand of a man who “loved” them.

I met him when I was 20. I was working at what is now Verizon (then NYNEX). I would come home home and hit Twin Donuts up for their cheeseburger deluxe…then go home. I’d become cool with the owners’ daughter, Debbie. She would give me free food and she’d been patronizing him for a while. As a matter of fact, he wrote some of her term papers for college. She introduced us one night. When we locked eyes…his a hazel/green/gray color…it was instant. Even though I thought it was…I won’t call it love. I’ll call it a connection. We took notice at how similar our names were and from there the conversations acclimated. He became the high note of my nightly stops in the small diner in my hometown. I couldn’t wait to talk to him. He was engaging and funny…very flirtatious. I had asked his age…he said 35. I had already begun feeling him…but, being that he was an entire 15yrs older than me…it was doomed from the beginning. I remember trying to break it off and him being adamant that he and I deserved a chance.

…Then, a few flurries got thrown. I say flurries, because they came all at once like in boxing. I found out that not only wasn’t he 35…he was FOURTY-TWO! *grrr* I then find out that my mother, father, my godmom…all know this cat. He’s infamous for having been a “pimp” of sorts when they all were younger. By now…it’s obvious, this dude is in my parents’ generation. I heard the stories of how he’d pimped one young woman out…literally. He’d put her on the block and had physically abused her. I heard the story of he and his ex-wife, someone they knew as well…whom he’d supposedly beat on. He claimed a lot was more legend than reality. All I knew at 20…was someone understood me. He was a genius. He was funny. He cared about me. He would ride the bus to come meet me at work and see me home in the dark. He gave me something no other man or “boyfriend” had ever given me…his full attention.

I continued to see him. I figured that I’d just get to know him. He promised my mother that his intentions were sincere and harmless. She warned him, “You hurt my daughter and I’ll hurt you.” I can’t say that’s HOW she said it, but you get it. He and I saw each other often. I remember that when I was losing my job at NYNEX, he was the one who took the time to make sure I got to Bellevue Hospital in NYC. I had to go and get diagnosed as a preemptive strike to keep my job. It didn’t work. Still, off we went to NYC. I wasn’t at all familiar with the train system. I didn’t drive. I was at the mercy of whomever was willing to take me. What “I” remember…is that when I asked, folks acted like they didn’t want to do it…and when he volunteered to go…they were relieved. That’s all I’m gonna say on that. He took me to the consultation…and again when I was appointed the sleep study. He dropped me off…and picked me up. He even gave me a genuine rough quartz crystal to keep my spirit safe while there. He was there when I received the diagnosis for Narcolepsy and he was there when I turned 21. He gifted me with a book called, “Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar”. I cherished that book…and through him, I learned to like a name that I  got teased relentlessly on during childhood.

Eventually, our relationship caused rifts. It caused a rift between myself and my BFF of the time. We went almost 6yrs at one point with no communication except for my willingness to call her on her birthday every year. My family and I became estranged…seeing them sporadically. What initially got me “put out” of my mother’s home, was a night of misunderstandings and a lapse in my own judgment that kept me out over night while my BFF stayed at my house as a guest. I regretted it…it wasn’t right. It also wasn’t done on purpose. It followed me for years.

On February 18th, 1994, I left my mother’s home to live with him in his rented room. I had already lost my job behind my disorder a couple of months before and was now living off of my tax return and unemployment checks. He’d begun a job as a car salesman…and thus began the sway from love to abuse. 

It seemed like the more he took care of me…the more he felt the right to control me. I went from wearing MAYBE some eyeliner and lipstick to wearing clear gloss. I went from relaxing my hair to going natural. I went from wearing form-fitting clothes…to wearing ill-fitting clothes that hid my figure. Did I mention that he is Muslim? Yea. I even remember him mentioning wanting more than one wife…with me being the primary wife. I told him under NO terms would I convert and that if he even THOUGHT of bringing some chick up in MY house…it was a wrap. I know he cheated throughout the relationship, but nothing ever hit my doorstep…no proof of it.

The first day he hit me I was shocked. I don’t remember what I said…all I remember is him slapping me. I spent the entire day while he worked…walking around like an emotional zombie. I never thought I’d be there. The next time he tried to punch me in my face. He had accused me of cheating and had swung on me after I had stomped off in frustration.  I bobbed and weaved like Muhammad Ali. *lol* He missed me by mere inches. I told him don’t EVER hit me again. After that we’d have a struggle from time to time. One incident that took place specifically ended in him on the floor in shards of glass with his elbow cut deeply from a push I gave him. One instance almost ended in him bashed by a 40oz bottle…another with him moments away from me “lightening” his eyes with bleach. I refused to lay down and get beat down. What he couldn’t accomplish with me physically…he more than made up for verbally.

I had water thrown in my face. Sex forced on me. Dishes tossed for intimidation. Litanies of how useless I was, how fat and “grotesque” I was, comparisons to Miss Piggy, told that I was a lazy bitch (there goes that distortion of my disorder again). It was a nightmare at times…and others we genuinely had a companionship. We were together for almost 9 years and the last 4 were sexless. I couldn’t tell if he had gone impotent from using drugs (yes, he was addicted to drugs and alcohol which  I did not know about until almost a year into the relationship) …or if his stamina was spent from screwing others. I was grateful in a way. I didn’t know WHO he was sleeping with.

We moved constantly due to his inability to get along with anyone. He made it hard to go out into public. He’d been arrested a couple of times. Once for harassing the landlord’s wife (which ironically he DIDN’T do…too long a story)…and once for possession of a weapon. I stuck it out with him during both situations…calling lawyers and making my way to get him. I loved him.

I learned SO much. My entire relationship with him was an oxymoron. When bitter, it was salty to the point of painful. He knew how to dig deep and make me heave in tears. I couldn’t wait for him to leave for work and didn’t care when he didn’t come home. The only time it sucked to be alone was on 9/11. There was the sweet. It was the moments when, crazy enough…we struggled financially and he couldn’t afford his habit. Or when we’d fast together during Ramadan. The love for me was there…but that drug/alcohol beast was too strong to live in sweetness long. I remember the night he refused to let me go to the bathroom alone. He followed me and threatened to throw me in the tub and break my neck. I told him to do it. I was tired. He didn’t. He stepped away and I cried. I saw hate in his eyes…but not for me. For himself. That’s sadder than anything he could’ve done to me.

The end of us wasn’t even a harsh or violent end. His job became unstable and we could no longer afford to live where we were. My mother was more than happy to come get me. It was supposed to be a temporary solution. As soon as he got a job and a place he’d come get me. The night before, we sat in darkness. Nothing but the moon’s light shining through our blinds. Electricity off, boxes packed, silence enveloping the room. He said after so long of us both just staring out of the window, “You look so beautiful…my Indian Goddess.”

The next night, mom came and I got in the car. He packed my stuff and I could tell he was in his feelings. He knew it was the end. He knew I wasn’t coming back to him. He wouldn’t even look back. I saw him walk and not turn around to wave. He later told me…he cried and couldn’t.

A year or more later…he came to visit me. Took me out for my birthday and gave me money and gave me my desktop computer out of storage. He mentioned he’d be moving into something new and asked if I would come home. I told him, confidently…without even blinking…”I AM home.”

This story, is too many women’s stories. This story shouldn’t be. I firmly believe it starts with instilling self-esteem and respect in our children from the moment they are able to comprehend. No one should be so starved for love to easily slip into this kind of life. Unfortunately, this isn’t just about women. This is also some MEN’S stories. Men are being abused as well. This is their story, too.

I firmly believe that through my own prayers, my inner faith, my family’s prayers and God’s grace…I made it.  God made me whole again…and though from time to time, I remember certain things that ends with me in tears…I believe in love. I have faith in love’s ability to renew. God spared me. I could’ve died. I felt like I would. Yet…I’m here. This is my testimony. I am a domestic violence survivor.

The Wild Card

This is my wild card blog.

I had a full weekend. I didn’t get to blog on Friday, so this can make up for it…I hope. lol Since this is the “wild card” blog…I decided to do a medley of what’s on my mind.

Why do I feel like there isn’t enough hours in the day…and too many days in the week?

When I’m at work, the day ticks by slowly…and I feel like I’m never gonna get out of the job. If you all didn’t read before…I’m Narcoleptic. So my 4hrs feel like an entire day. I often fall asleep in the middle of tasks. How about, one day I was alphabetizing a shit load of papers. I had another young lady assisting me. When I doze and it feels like I’ve been asleep for a long time, it sometimes has been mere minutes…and in some cases…seconds. I would wake up and look at her and she’d be oblivious. *lmao*

So…we’re doing the alphabetizing when I drift off (I’m already laughing). I wake up and instinctively ball up a form and toss it in the garbage next to me. It hits me…wait. Why did I do that? I reach back into the trash, pull out the yellow ball, straighten it out and see that it’s an important paper. I look at the young lady again and she’s REALLY oblivious. She hasn’t said a word. I say to her, “Dee, did you notice I nodded off?”. She says, “No…I didn’t. I thought you were concentrating.” I laugh so loudly. I tell her, “GIRL…PAY ATTENTION to me. I can be awake one moment and asleep the next. I almost discarded an important document.” She laughs with me and promises to pay attention.

All of a sudden, inside…I want to cry.

It’s moments like these that are SO hard for me. I can make fun of myself, because I’m silly as hell..and I’m not afraid to see the obvious humor. The pain and frustration of it isn’t so damn obvious…and sometimes the emotions hit me. Daily life isn’t “normal” for me. I look “normal”. I speak “normally”. I don’t have a physical or visible disability…but the disorder I do have is real. It’s frustrating and stressful to be in public places, at the dinner for my friend on Friday…at the luncheon with my grandmother and her church members. I’m afraid that I’ll embarrass myself…or someone else, by falling asleep at the table. I KNOW I did it a couple of times at the luncheon…and my first concern was that one of my grandmother’s friends would see me and mention it later (to my grandmother’s chagrin). My grandmother KNOWS about my disorder, but she also has a hard time wrapping her mind around the sleepiness being less “lazy” and more “uncontrollable”.

I guess, I have to keep doing the best I can to live as “normally” as possible. I don’t turn down opportunities to socialize, I just plan around when I’m most susceptible to nod. I can sometimes tell how tired I’ll be by what I’ve done all day. The more occupied my mind is, the easier it is for me to stay alert. It’s why I multi-task. I am constantly “doing”. I’m usually, writing, reading, listening to music, watching TV and quite possibly on the phone…all at the same time. ~phew~ The more sedentary I am…the quicker I’ll nod. When going out, I also roll with people I can trust.

Here’s some tips on how not to piss off this Narcoleptic:

~Do NOT yell, “Wake up, Kali” and then laugh. Yea, I might cuss you out. For one, it startles me, which makes my nerves frazzled and then gives me a headache.

~Do NOT scold me for falling asleep. If we’re in motion (walking) just nudge me and remember to not treat me like I’m crazy. LOL (unless you’re close enough to me to know it’s okay)

~Do NOT act embarrassed. I won’t hang with you. If I think for one moment, that my condition will bring out your self-consciousness around me…I will make myself scarce.

~Be sensitive. I can be harder on me than anyone. I don’t need critics. I need friends. Just like I’d have your back…have mine.

S/N: I was just thinking how when Joy and I were on the train going back to the BX from Manhattan, we were in the subway on the platform and even though she didn’t know it, I was watching her back. I’d purposely turn my back to her when she had her back to me. I figured…if we’re BOTH looking in one direction, we’re easier marks than if we’re looking both ways. Did you notice that Joy? LOL

Anyway…this is my wild card blog. A short peek into my daily life and struggle. I literally can no longer concentrate, as the “rabbits” (my screwing neighbors upstairs) are in full fuck mode. haha.


The Lonely Poem

have you ever been so lonely,
that you remember
the embrace
from cold arms
of a past charmer?
have you ever been so lonely,
that you consider
going back
to a neglectful cat?
with a short reach…
and an attention span to match?
have you ever been so lonely,
that you consider dealing
with profanities,
possibly even a ode to thee…
on your knees…
just to get an “i love you”?
the void
is unending
the longing,
leaving room for
distorted images
of perfect times
of enveloping hugs
that felt like love…
even when it wasn’t
that can make you want to
abandon abandonment…
for deluded contentment
have you ever been this lonely?
…i may have felt that lonely…
but i’m not.
not so lonely that i’d
suck up miles of shit
regurgitated and remixed
into a safety net
with a hole
the size of lonely’s pain
and hate’s despair…
not so lonely that i’d
toss my dignity
to the wind
attached to a feather…
even when the lonelies
sneak in 
and lay me down tearfully,
tucks me in with doubts…
wakes me up on the wrong side of the bed
gives me attitude
headaches from
love hangovers…
that lonely.

I O U…

Sorry that I short-changed you guys yesterday…I had a full Friday. I went from work to the Bronx to meet up with my girl Joy, so we could go to Manhattan. Our friend Celeste’s belated birthday dinner was at Dallas BBQ’s. Since Celeste moved to Georgia last year, we’ve barely seen her. This was actually my first time seeing her since her move. It was great to see her…very brief, yet a very cool “butterfly” weekend.

We enjoyed ourselves immensely…taking pics, eating, and laughing. After dinner, Joy and I made our way back to her place in the BX and made a bee line for the bed. Today, I attended a cotillion for “Golden Divas”…a group of cherished ladies in their Golden Years. It was a beautiful dedication to four ladies who have been active in the community and church. This gala took place at my grandmother’s church and was put upon very nicely. There was a musical/dance selection that had me on the verge of tears. An older woman of 50+ did a wonderful interpretive dance to Maya Angelou’s poem, “Phenomenal Woman”. She was so very graceful and expressive. I was impressed.  The débutante danced with their escorts.  Here’s a quick view of them dancing:

I was so tired. I hit the ground running Friday morning and didn’t stop until I reached my room going on 7pm.

Do you think I lied down? Nope. Still up…fighting sleep like a baby. I hate that yesterday’s blog escaped me. It was unavoidable though. Since I didn’t have the good sense to actually write it BEFORE leaving…fitting in time to write was damn near impossible.

So, here I am…writing as the clock turns 12am (actually going into a THIRD day of non-blog).  I had to post SOMETHING. My mind is too tired to give a damn about how lengthy and substantial this thing is. At least I gave you pics. LOL

Here’s another. I took this on my way to the Bronx on the train. One of my faves. Good night 🙂