Smemory
Hello internets. A new year has desended upon us and speaking just for myself, it’s only the 14th and if Janurary is any indication of what the rest of the year is going to be like…well, I may have to start self medicating, rich white woman style; with perscriptions for false ailments (I’m kidding…I think). Things are happening (good and bad) that are making my already big eyes do cartoon eye pops and jaw drops. I wish I could tell you everything that’s been going on (good & bad) but alas these are not my stories to tell. I will say, it is never a dull moment when I am around my friends.
No song this time for the blog title. I’ve been tooling around this post for the last few days. I thought about writing it in a poem format but not sure how it would flow. What is a smemory? It is a memory that causes you to do that secret smirkish smile that no one can figure out. Everyone has them, ev-er-y-one. I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed and needed something to smile about and when I think of the private jokes and time spent with the people in my past and in my present it makes me remember the events that caused the memeory in the first place . So if these memories were made with you or because of you…thank you.
My two kids Zoe and Antwone, and my step son Ariel.
The Interpersonal Association meetings convening at Stake & Shake in Brentwood
3am Chinese food runs and carpet picnics
Trips to the mountains to chase the moon
The really hot bouncer at In Cahoots
Gooey butter cookie
Line dancing and cowboy hats
2am billard matches
3 crates of lemons, travel lube, and yoohoo
Tapenade
“I don’t even like The Cure that much”
One
“Let me help you!”
FAMU graduation/ hotel room
KC road trip / clubbing
“Mornin Nini!”
Mafia
Kappa Halloween party/perculator
Sigma house road trip and the couch
Bible searches for party clarification
CA road trips to eat cereal on the beach at sunrise
Poetry on the school steps
Odo Nnyew Fie Kwan
The never ending lemon cake
Naked Sundays
Knock on the widow
“Pumpernickle!”
“Russia”
Fruit, seeds, black people
You don’t look pregnant
Staples and romantic comedies
Wubba
Random Questions 1.0
If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, then what is baby oil made from?
If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?
Do illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet Soup?
Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, ‘I think I’ll squeeze these dangly things and drink whatever comes out?’
Blame it on the rain
This is another song that makes me laugh. Don’t act like this wasn’t your jam before they got caught lip singing (and then secretly still after that). The light skinned one was TOTALLY my boyfriend when I was a kid. And I thought it went well with what I’m feeling, but just the chorus though. I can’t listen to the words without falling into fits of giggles.
Today was not a good day. My day became one internecine (like that word) experience after another. Lucky for me no one else has been hurt in the process of me self imploding (that I know of). The hardest thing I did today was get out of bed. That made me miss my first class, which made me unprepared for my second class, which made me be unable to follow most of what was going on for the first half of class. After the break I was fine but that’s an hour and a half of just staring into nothing-ness pretending I know what this Deaf lady is saying. The worse part is that out of all of these happenstances, I can’t even summon up the energy to care. I want to care, because I’m a nerd and school is my drug of choice. I missed my favorite class and mid terms start this week (mine aren’t for two weeks) and on Thursday I have to have a progress conference with my professor (yay me |>). Then something happened that was so profoundly grotesque and embarrassing, that I can’t even put it in the blog. Only professionals that are legally bound in silence will ever find out what happened.
I’ve explained the flag (|>) in a previous post so… not gonna do it again. Go back and read about it in the definitions (R.I.F.)
It’s a heady thing to realize that in all my efforts to NOT be like my mother I ended up with some of her bad traits anyway (see previous post to explain that one too). I did cry today, which was really annoying. You’d think it would be soul cleansing, but no. I liken it to rain in Missouri; unpredictable in its arrival and uncalled for in its brevity.
No, today was not a good day, but there is always tomorrow where new beginnings start.
All cried out
Ok, so the title had a little to do with the post, but just a little. I picked this song because it made me laugh (wait for it) a lot. With my past exhuming itself last week, I’ve been searching my mind for files of memories that made me smile or laugh that have no unpleasant repercussions. This song makes me think of one. It was a random Saturday night and I got off work early. I was suppose to be going to this party but ended up on the couch at my friends house watching old 80s and early 90s videos. It was soooo much fun. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a minute. It was me, Raquita, Jerry (her husband), and April, I think Blue was there but I can’t remember. You may or may not know the afore mentioned people, but know a good time was had. I’m still looking for that 5 Star jacket.
Sidebar: How much do I love my etymology class? Words, it’s a class of words. (insert mad scientist laugh here)
So, my short term goal is to live moment by moment. Take the good with the bad, celebrate my small victories, and write at least three times a week. Well, nothing bad happened today that was within my scope of being that couldn’t be delt with immediately. The good thing is I did not cry today. Small victory for me since last week. If I didn’t know any better, I’d claim PMS. Which is interesting because I don’t cry, I mean I’m human, I am capable of the emotional outlet but I do it rarely. So, no tears, no one got cursed out or fired, so all in all it was a decent day. I didn’t get all my homework done (I know, I’m a bad kid) but I’m about 90% done.
I still don’t have any answers yet, but they’ll come when I need them most. I’m working on implementing the moving on part.
Piece of my soul
Ok, so the cool thing for me is that since I figured out how to put videos and photos on my blog (by my self, shut up Raquita) I can actually start putting the video clips of the song titles or verses I use for my blog titles (yay me). I am very excited. I’m a music head, music grounds me. It helps me get rid of bad days or harmonizes my current mood. Unless you love music the way I do, you wouldn’t understand, but the other heads out there know what I’m talking about.
Anyway, this week has been…yeah. I’ve posted about God throwing curve balls into my life when I’m really looking for straight one across the plate. This week I got a curve ball. A BIG one. I got a curve ball so big it spelled out; “it this one if ya wanna”. And I missed that mug. Now, I haven’t a clue as to how to proceed. My head and heart are conflicting,my past is sending me flashbacks, my future (what I can see) is so jumbled that I find myself…numb. Have you ever been tired of being the strong one, the one who always takes the high road, the one that other look to lead. Sometimes I just want to let someone else makes the decisions and tell me what to do.
I’m heart heavy. What I want,what I need, what I deserve, what I’m willing to accept, my own self worth; are all in question at the moment. I had a conversation this past week that literally, brought me to my knees. I felt the air moving through my heart like wind in a tunnel, howling. I thought that space was healed and new life was growing there. It turns out it was just a really thick scab that just needed the right amount of force to have it removed. The wind is back and I’m not sleeping. I am writing, so that’s a good thing but…DAMN, seriously? I know what I should do: what the logical, no nonsense, sexy, smart, goal-oriented me wants to do, but the inner self conscience, lonely, abandoned girl sitting in back of the closet thinks we should do.
So I, do nothing. I’m an ostrich, sticking my head in the sand and pretending it doesn’t exist until one of those sea-hags wins this emotional conflict. Then I’ll deal with the fall out. This is not a good decision but it’s the only one I got for right now. I’m okay with that because it’s keeping me sane. It’s keeping me from sitting in a corner drooling on myself, rocking back and forth, crying my eyes out(cuz that would be a punk move).
Pray that I make the right decisions and that the lesson I need to learn comes quickly before God throws another curve ball at me.
Water Works
Tears anoint cheeks in salty tribute
To broken promises whispered during
The darkened hours of lovers assignations.
Tears shed
From a past that can
Never be reclaimed
A drop of water
In the ocean that
Is quickly consumed
By massive waves
It neither quiches
Nor does it sate
It is indistinguishable
From the foam formed
Of crests
It is ambiguous
In its currents
Where has the drop gone
Find that drop
And you will find
The pieces of my heart
Gifted then disguarded
Find it
And you will find
Pain buried by emotions
So great
They mock the depth
Of the ocean
Drowning
Holding my breath
Till my lungs burst
Forcing me
To breath in the acceptance
Of your absence
Treading
On the brink of sanity
Find that drop
And you’ll find me
Back in Stride Again
This song is by a group called Maze featuring Frankie Beverly (no seriously that the whole name). I always wondered why Frankie couldn’t just be apart of Maze. I mean I don’t remember there ever being a Frankie Beverly solo album without Maze. But I digress. Maze is a feel good band. You can’t be unhappy and listen to Maze. It makes you want to move, I grew up on them. I will admit though, when I hear Maze it does make me kind of sad. It’s my biological mothers’ favorite band. When I hear them I remember her dancing and singing to the top of her lungs no matter where we were when she heard it. On her good days, my mother is infectious with her laughter. You can’t help but get caught up in the world wind that is her smile. Sometimes I really miss those days.
So it’s August. It’s August and it’s cold. Well, cold to me anyway. Not only that but retailers are already putting out stuff for Christmas (seriously?). School has started for everyone. It was hard for me to make the decision to go back to school this semester. I took a long look at my life and schedule and I’m not so superwoman to admit that I’m tired. But even after this admission I also realized that I have no clue as to what I’m passionate about anymore. I look at my friend stepping out on faith and doing what she loves and I’m so proud of her. She is becoming an amazing photographer. She was dope before but I have the profound privilege of watching her grow in her craft. And she’s doing something she loves. I’ve always tried to surround myself with creative, smart, goal-oriented people. My thought is maybe some of it will rub off. A newer acquaintance of mine just graduated with her masters and she’s cruising and chasing dreams, and she has two kids. Then I look at myself. I’m ok in the brains department. I’m no where near the brain capacity of say, Henderson Sr. (dude you don’t even know) but I’m no slouch. I know what I would like to do, but I don’t know how to go about getting it done. I love languages and I love words. I like learning about different cultures. How that translates itself into a bona fide career I have no idea. I would love to be a traveling liaison. I want to go with companies and be their go between internationally. To help companies with not only the language barrier but the cultural barrier as well. Because lets face it other countries and cultures see Americans as arrogant, self-centered, one-sited, opportunist that have no regard or respect for anyone that isn’t “American”. I don’t agree with the assessment but there are times when I see things on the news that makes me wonder. In order to do that I need to finish school. I’m taking ASL (American Sign Language), it’s different and challenging and I love it. I’m still working two jobs because with me being in school I actually need two now. I have a year and a half to decide what kind of interpreter I want to become.
Maybe it is time to move. My inner gypsy is starting to wake up.
Mr Telephone Man
New Edition, circa early 1980s before their voices changed. Well everyone except for Rickie, his voice was always high (insert one eyebrow lift here). And why was Ralph Trasvant so gonna be my husband when I got big.
What is the saying? Necessity is the mother of all invention. I find myself thinking about things like that in my dotage. Take technology, I use this example because in the early 80’s (since that’s when I was younger) phone conversations were restricted to the home, work, or a pay phone. And for those elite to have them there were cordless phones. But the range on those weren’t great.
Why am I saying all this? Well I’m a firm believer that private conversations should be just that, private. I was walking into my 2nd job and I heard this man yelling and cursing at the top of his lungs. But because he was on a cell phone you only heard a one sided conversation (not that I was listening). His voice was bouncing off the walls and anybody could hear he wasn’t having a very good day. Humans are naturally curious people and I’ve found that to be doubly true in St. Louis. So no one even made the pretence that there weren’t listening. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Personally, if I’m upset enough to where I feel yelling is necessary I’m going to do it face to face. Not over the phone and not in a public forum where anybody could hear me. Especially not in my work place.
I mean really, what kind of world do we live in when you can’t yell at a compatriot over the phone in public spouting, “It’s my way or no way!!!” without 20 or so random strangers listening in?
Intro
No song title or verse this time. Most songs have and intro and sometimes, unfortunately, the intro is better than the song itself (sad but true).
This is the last week of August, and so many things have happened since I last blogged that I’m thinking of doing like four blogs in row (I have lots to day)
Sidebar:Why are McNasty (’scuse, McDonalds) apple dippers the jones? I mean I know their just apples with preservatives so they don’t turn brown, but dude I’ve had like four bags in two days (who knew preservatives were so tasty?). And even more disturbing is that I’m okay with paying $1 for the convience of not having to cut and slice my own apple. I really am a lazy git sometimes.
Overheard in a Chinese restaurant
Plus size woman: “Ok so, can I get the sweet and sour chicken but with no breading on the chicken, just like chicken strips?
Server: Yes
PS Woman: Awesome, I’ll take a large order of that, no breading, I just like the sauce.”
(it’s not over)
PS Woman: Ok, so I need that and do you have General Tso’s Chicken but with no breading? Can you just boil the chicken
Server: No boil, is stir fry
PS Woman: But can I still get the chicken with no breading?
Server: Yes
PS Woman: Ok, awesome, I’ll take a large order of that too. And some cookies, I just love cookies. And a diet coke. That’s all.”
