06-07-05

Today 3 years ago I gave birth to the best thing that has ever happened to me.

She is beautiful, smart, and the joy of my life.

She IS the REASON I live.

This Morning

So this morning..I called in..said I would be late. I didn't have the mental energy....SEE POST BELOW.

On the way into work I was listening to V103 the Porsha Fox Show..and chile she had Khia..or ever you spell her name..ya'll know the nasty mouth rapper "my neck my back"..Anyway ya'll she got into w/ Porsha...She was getting into it with callers. So Porsha finally cut her mic off..and dismissed her from the show. Wow.

Anyway....

So now I'm in the elementary class room..where I want to be..writing this..and that..The kids are so chilled..so I can chill.. My last one just left as I was in the middle of my last sentence. Peace @ last.

I usually write during the nap time..but I just got a memo..that laptops aren't allowed in the classes anymore. = added depression.

Then my wifi at my house is down. My apt complex has it..but I don't know if they didn't pay the bill or what. But I'm really mad about that because I'm addicted to blogging now. I don't see myself being able to write in a notebook anytime soon.

1. Because I don't like my hand writing

2. Because I like receiving feed back.

3. Typing is just faster, and more in the moment.

So guys..if you are wondering why I haven't been posting..There are the reason's above.

So nonetheless, I feel like shit SEE POST BELOW. I know this shall to will pass, but damnit it sucks when you are in the moment.

I feel as if I'm stuck
Right here
In bad luck
What is the Universe
Trying to teach me?
What...
That it can only get worse?
That I'm no good?
That I'm put here to hurt?

I know if I weather
This cliche'...This storm
I will be a vessel
That will inspire
Others to keep
Living on
Even when it may
Seem as if
There's no way out
Of this hateful world
That makes you lose
Yourself...
And your control...

Mind's sore

This is terminal illness
For there is no cure
Popping pills
Is the only remedy
To clear this minds sore

You're dormant
Until you get ready
Then you pop up
and I think
My life is done
All because you..
You're impossible
To control
I want to kill you
Finish you off
With a gun..

Misery
Is what I feel
Now that you
Live with me
And I want you to move
I want to give you
A notice
And evict you
But that's not possible
Cuz you ain't going
No where
No time soon

Life's a beach...

First and foremost I have to say how ecstatic I am..that in my life time, I will see a black president! Obama is the man, and I’m so happy that Hillary can hopefully begin to move on with her life. I hope that Obama is smart enough to not ask her to be his running mate. She is an evil, power hungry, liar, who I don’t think will wait 8 yrs to get into the White House. Even though a Obama Clinton ticket is virtually unbeatable, I still don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t understand why she didn’t run in 2004 up against Bush..the only thing I can think of is them *Clintons, Bush’s, Cheney’s* and who ever else that is a part of their camp trying to form the new world order. Anyway enough for my political opinion…Go Obama!!

So today..I look really cute. I have on a light yellow linen sundress. It’s fitted at the top, and the rest flares out. I love the summer because I *heart* sundresses. Anyway, so me looking cute should have been a start to an okay day. But instead I get to work with my heart set on teaching in the elementary classroom today. Since after all the “director” told me that’s where I would be yesterday.But noooo..I get in and she tells me to go with the damn nappers. I’m tired of nappers, they are so airheadish. Speaking of airheads I think 75% of the students here are missing a few things. For one thing their parents are too damn old bringing these babies into the world. 53 yrs old w/ a 3 year old..WTF? I believe these parents have no other choice but to pay more than a grand a month for somebody to work with their special ed children. Because they don’t want them to be in a regular school and have to go to a sped class. Anyway I know your like how are the special *F*..but that’s a whole different blog..and I would say you kinda need to be “here” to see them.

Anyway so yesterday I go on a field trip with the elementary class. We went to a man made beach down here. The water has chlorine in it, and they have sand, so it looks like a real beach. They have a kiddy pool with cute little mushroom water fountains. When we first get there I got into the water, but I wasn’t really feeling it because I wanted to lay out more than anything. So I splashed around with them for about 10 minutes then I go rent a chair, grab my Vaseline *ghetto* and sunscreen and lather up..and lay my ass down. I think I fell asleep, and woke up after about an hour. I get back in the water, and then it’s time to go eat lunch. We eat, then we went back to swim. The other teacher and all of the students told me I couldn’t just lay out..that I had to swim.

So there are these 2 water slides there. One the kids called “scary”. And this spiral one. I’m like let me see what this “scary” one is about. The first time I went, I went down without this little mat thing that you are suppose to use, but I didn’t know. Anyway there is this big dip and you shoot straight out. * I don’t like to swing, or roller coasters so I was thinking I wouldn’t be fond of this slide either*. And of course I go right under water, and water goes all up in my nose. I hate the feeling of chlorine in the nostrils, burns so damn bad. So the next time that I went, yes I went again. I grabbed the mat thingy, got on my stomach and came shooting out. I slid right across the water, something like a surfer. That shit was fun. So me and my students kept going over and over again. I had on a bikini. I normally wear shorts and a tee shirt anyway when I swim, but the lifeguards wouldn’t allow you to go down the side if you had clothes on. Nonetheless I felt too sexy to be on a field trip yesterday. So as I’m getting out of the water *alone* and walking up to the slide I hear.

“Ms. Ms.”I look up and it’s a girl who probably was no more than 15 years old and she was pointing. It took me about 5 seconds and then I look down and….

My boob was hanging out of my bikini top. * Wow* I was happy none of my students were around because I’m sure..everyone would have heard about that. I popped it back in, and proceeded once again up the slide. I felt like a kid again yesterday, because it’s probably been a good 9 or 10 years since I’ve gone on a waterslide.

Example of the speds- Jake..pale lanky kid. On the last field trip he fell off of the monkey bars and broke his arm. So on this field trip I give my little speech about how we aren’t going to break any arms, have any accidents on our selves, pee or poop in the pool, fight, cry ect. And does Jake listen…

Hell no..

He goes down the slide first. I watch him, make sure that he’s getting out of the way. He is when I decided to go. I guess he must have changed his mind, or forgot that I was about to come flying out. But he stood there, and when I came out..I took him out..My mat when all over the boys head. When he came above water I told him that he better not cry, because he should have known better than to stand right in front of the opening to a water slide. **One of the many examples of sped’s*

So now I’m in the classroom with these snoring children and I’m hungry..I’m going to try and write a poem. Have a good day bloggers.

I *Heart* Black

I love being black. I remember drilling that into my head when I was younger. For the simple fact that it was made apparent by other black folks *family, friends, hood rats* that I was everything but black. I guess since you can see my blue veins, and when I was a kid my hair was down to my ass. And black people just aren’t made like that. *wink*


My dad’s family on his mothers side totally ghetto. My grandmother died when my father was 7, so he was basically raised by his aunt, and my grandfather who was always away as a chef on the railroad. * I would like to think my Grandma was nothing like her sister *Anyway this aunt of mine..I was totally grossed out every time I went over there. Her house had the most pungent odor that I have smelled to date. She had roaches…. and bugs.. I hate bugs.. Then I had to eat over there. And get this..me and my cousins had to eat ALL of our food, before we could have anything to drink. Now that I think about it, that is child abuse. None the less I spent many days at her kitchen table crying because I couldn’t get up, while she sat and drank Martell and coffee..smoking Newport after Newport. I would tell my Daddy, and of course he probably went through the same treatment, so there wasn’t much he could do.

I recall one incident where her daughter Meon was outside at a picnic table cleaning catfish.*she has an eye that doesn’t quite look @ you, and is a little slow* I have tons of cousins and when I was at my aunts house I was never alone. That eased my pain somewhat. Anyway after seeing these scales flying off the table all day they expected me to eat the fish along with spaghetti. This day all of my older cousins, older sister, and dad were there, so they put the kids outside to eat. I was with my cousin Nikki *RIP* who was the daughter of Meon and who wasn’t quite right either. But that was my baby..she was a couple of months older than me, and we looked very similar. We were skinny tall little girls, with long thick ass hair. So we were leaning up against the car eating. Well I was attempting to eat. Then I started thinking of the conditions of where my meal was prepared, and the fish scales..and I just threw up!!! Yeah…pretty gross..

Even though my aunts house was in deplorable conditions and I hated eating there, and couldn’t fathom sleeping there..I still loved it because it made me feel black. They hung out in the front yard. They walked through the screen door. They played spades, smoked weed, and drank until early in the morning. My cousins knew all of the latest slang. And of course my Montessori ass was not in the mix at all until they filled me in. Sometimes they would mess with me and speak in the new terminology just to make me mad. I love the way we have our own language. If it weren’t for the Clark Family I wouldn’t be as fluent in African American Vernacular.
I had a couple of fun older cousins that would play games with us, that I know only black people play. ie smut, ni*** knock *where you knock on peoples doors and run* that was my favorite..stupid now that I think about it. But fun!!

So I bet your wondering about my momma nem’…Well my mother is totally pale. She has dusty brownish blonde hair. Her parents weren’t all the light, but my grandmother was a McCoy, and her siblings all had blue eyes. I’m guessing she got a lot of the McCoy genes. Anyway my grandmother being all educated and what not, and above being black, shunned anything away if it was too ethnic. Lawd forbid if I wanted to speak A.A.V over there. She wasn’t having it. My mother speaks very proper too, and when she would try to speak A.A.V..even though she’s better now..she still sounded a hott mess. I love my grandmother, but when I was younger I couldn’t understand how she could call the same people who were exactly like her nigger *or maybe not because they weren’t trying*. My aunt is convinced that my grandmother wanted to be white. I don’t know about that because she could have never passed. I just believe that she was extremely proud of making it..and she made sure that others knew that they hadn’t.

So yes my two family’s never hung out. EVER! I couldn’t image what that would have been like. My grandma would have been turning up her nose, and my dads family would have been talking crap about how my grandma thought she was all that.

Which brings me to this thought…there are so many different varieties of “black people” that can’t embrace each other. We are the only race that discriminates against each other.

“She act too white. She speak too proper.”

“He not black enough”. <<<<< What they say about Barack

I *heart* how we hardly ever make things plural when they need to be..

It is sooo hard to prove yourself in our community. It sickens me. But I will never turn my back on my race. Even though I believe if I wanted to represent another race..it would be possible. I get asked on a daily basis what I’m is..lol Get this..not even just by us. When I worked @ this particular club where a lot of Indians frequented they would come up to me speaking whatever they speak. And Mexican men always speak Spanish to me. I just laugh to myself.


I don’t think in my life time we will see any change within our community. Even though I KNOW it’s not totally our faults that we self hate, but it is on us to change it. I love the book “No Disrespect” by Sista Soljah it filled me in on how we were basically trained to be the way we are. But now it’s on us to fix what they broke…..

Something Terrible # 151

*BLESSES MY PAGE*

Something terrible..
is wanting something
that you can’t conceive

Something terrible
is wanting something
you know you need

Something terrible..
has no cure
it is a terminal disease

Something terrible..
has you to where
you’re soooo hungry
that you feel
the urge binge..
and over eat

Something terrible..
when wanting something
is far away
you dream of it..
something terrible
every minute of every
terrible day

because wanting..
something terrible..
is an aching sensation
that can’t be solved
without the missing variable
like in algebra
you gotta take your time
make proper calculations

I will wait for-EVER
when I want something terrible
I fight tooth and nail
I never give up
*brushes my shoulder off*
Bay-Bay I never fail