Eureka!

Grief is so complicated. As much as you're hurting, life is still happening, and you have these moments where you want to laugh or celebrate something but you can't.  At least, you feel like you can't. At times, you even actively push against it. But I had a revelation over the weekend....

A loss doesn't require you to be in this perpetual state of sadness in order to honor it.  

Laughing with people you love or taking a moment to celebrate an accomplishment you've worked hard for doesn't cancel out your grieving rights.  You don't have to feel guilty for abandoning that hole for just a little while, to remember YOU'RE still here.  When you're done laughing and celebrating, that hole will still be there.  

But you'll find it's not quite as deep as it use to be.  Some of that laughter and celebration filled this hole just enough that you can no longer fit inside.  So now you just sit beside it, tethered by the immense sense of loss you still feel.  It's like a giant magnet, just compelling your emotions to it.  Then something makes you smile, or cry happy tears and that hole gets filled up just a bit more.  And then more.  And then more.  Until finally that hole is so filled in that the magnet no longer compels you.  

I've learned that this is how grief works.  In the beginning, you're shackled to your loss - near-paralyzed, unable to move forward or even out of that space.  Eventually, the loss becomes shackled to you. So there needn't be any fear of moving forward - you will take that loss with you wherever you go.  The idea that at some point you'll be all "sadded" and cried out, and that this will be your signal to carry on with your life is just ridiculous, still we all kind of feel that way for a good while before we realize how ridiculous it actually is. 

So, I guess it's time to move on away from this hole. *Sigh*  Come on, neph.  Let's go.

10%

I remember when my oldest nephew was born.  I was 13, but I remember feeling so grown up and important becoming an aunt for the first time.  I also remember my mother slapping the shit outta me in church because my other sister and I were joking about how his hairline made him look like Sherman Hemsley and I couldn't stop giggling.  Low key, it mighta took for her to knock fire out my face for me to stop laughing.  It was that funny.  

He was the cutest little boy too - my son looked a lot like him growing up, actually.  I remember bringing him to spend several weekends with me on campus when I was in college.  All my friends spoiled him and whenever I didn't have him, they'd be asking when he was coming back again.  My little buddy.  We stayed pretty close throughout his teenage and adult years too.  When I lived upstate, he'd always show up at the house to talk to me about important decisions he had to make.  I appreciated that he'd come in person - it let me know, whatever the matter, it was something he took seriously.  He didn't always take my advice, but he'd always come back when he didn't and tell me, "Auntie, you always right, I shoulda listened to you."  And I'd say that I'm not always right, but I'm never gonna give him bad advice.  He'd listen about 90% of the time, but the times he didn't were the times I wished most that he had.  After I moved, he couldn't make those visits in person, but I knew to pick up any time he'd call.

He spent a few years being a fucken knucklehead and it almost got his ass killed about 5 or 6 years ago, but for the most part, he turned himself around after that and has tried to stay away from trouble and focus on his wife and kids.  He also turned to music and has really put a lot of himself into it - something else he and my son have in common.  I didn't know until yesterday that they had actually cut a song together.  I'd love to call and tell him much I like it except....  

My nephew died today.

In fact, he died 2 weeks ago after hanging himself in a closet.  The EMT's brought him back but far too late for there to be sufficient brain activity for him to ever resume a normal life.  Still, for 13 days, hope tormented my family through a ventilator and feeding tube.  Those were removed on Saturday afternoon and my nephew held his own for 37 hours.

I'm angry.  I'm sooo angry.  And I'm hurt.  For his mother, for his brother, for his children, and for mine.  But I'm also proud of my nephew for fighting to be here as long as he did.  Not for those 37 hours, but for the previous 20 years, suffering through depression and suicidal ideations.  He was emotional, often angry, but when he'd get to a place where he felt he couldn't take it anymore, he'd call.....until he didn't.  There's a very, very odd solace I find in that. One, that his mind was made up, and two..... well, like I said, the times he didn't listen to me were always the times I wished most that he had.  

Love you forever, neph.

Helluva Day

Man.  Today was.... a lot.  5 hours out of my 8-hour workday were conversations of the heaviest proportions, my energy is just..... UGH.  Don't get me wrong, they were good and necessary conversations, but I am just so drained.  Needless to say, I got NO actual work done.

Why do people do that?  Say "needless to say" and then say it? LOL  Random.  Nevermind.

It's a Bacardi, black and Pandora kinda night.  I need to get my energy together.  Don't take unanswered calls/texts personally.

Jay Z Life Advice Will Leave You SPEECHLESS (ft. Will Smith) | Eye Openi...

Please, Ladies....

Get out of the habit of explaining yourself.  

You don't need to qualify your "no" for the benefit of the person on the other end of the conversation.  Truth be told, you're doing that for YOU.  It's a sign of insecurity.  Someone who doesn't want you to make the decision you're making is going to try to dispute your reasoning in an effort to get you to change your mind, and if you're really gut-wrenchingly honest with yourself, you want them to.  You subconsciously want to feel like they didn't want to let it go, but the fact of the matter is, in many cases, they just don't want to let you go on YOUR terms.  They'll pull you back in, waste a shitload more of your time and have you mad at yourself in the end that you didn't just follow your gut in the first place.

It's crazy how often black women, in particular, do this.  It's not that it's not understandable because we've been conditioned to take care of everyone but ourselves, so when we make a decision for ourselves that we know might make someone else feel a way, we automatically prioritize the other person's feelings over ours.  This isn't so much insecurity as it is culture, but you have to understand how you're still doing yourself a disservice.  If you want to be taken seriously, you need to stand on your word when it's given.

It's one thing if you're uncertain and you need a little more information.  In that case, there needn't even be any definitive stance taken (out loud) but the second you determine that something isn't for you, let your "no" stand alone.  Stop creating space for someone to manipulate you.  

Example:

[After some unsettling conversation with someone you just met, you don't feel comfortable proceeding with getting to know each other]

The Wrong Way

Them: So, this is done then?

You: Well yeah, because I just [insert reasoning here].

Them: [Insert dispute].

The Right Way

Them: So, this is done then?

You: Yes, it is.

[Understand, you may still get some feedback at this point, but more often than not, it won't be the type of feedback that threatens your stance.]

Again, stop creating space for people to manipulate you.  By the same token, ladies (and I think I've spoken about this before), stop putting "LOL" after everything you say (text obvi).  If you meant that shit from the depths of your soul, you just said WTF you said.  "LOL" after everything is also insecurity, and creates a climate within that interaction where you don't seem confident.  It's an unlabeled request for permission to say what you're saying.  PLEASE stop doing that.  Especially those of you who are on a quest for self love and identity in this crazy time.  It's a very easy way to start feeling better about yourself, though it does take conscious effort and intentionality to break the old habit.  

You have a right to be definitive.  

You have a right to express yourself.

You have a right to rebuke anything and anyone that does not feel good to your soul.  

Just remember that "No" is a complete sentence.  Put a period after it.

Missing the Message

Sitting at my desk with "Just Once" on loop.  Nothing's wrong and it isn't currently relevant in my life, except that it was one of my very first favorite songs and I find myself lately holding fast to all the things I associate with warm fuzzy feelings.  A joy.  A peace.  Simpler times.  This song, for me, is definitely that.  I had to be what - 5? 6 maybe?  I'm sure I didn't know what the words meant, but James Ingram's voice spoke to me, even then.  It's makin me giggle just a little now, remembering how for years I thought his name was Quincy Jones.  Then some other song of his came out and I was all "Quincy Jones" and my mama was like "Girl..." LOL  I was so confused, trying to understand how somebody could have an album with somebody else singing all the songs.  But I learned the name James Ingram, and I could identify his voice in a single note from then on.

It's probably playing for the 9th time, but I'm hearing it a little differently now as I scroll through my social media....   

"Just once.  Can we figure out what we keep doing wrong?

Why the good times never last for long...

Where are we going wrong?

Just once. Can we find a way to finally make it right?"

I know absolutely nobody else is going to make the connection - it's fine - but as I'm scrolling, I'm just thinking what would happen if all you could see were the posts, and not who posted them?  Why can't the message just be the message?  Why do we put our stamp of approval (likes) on bullshit simply because it's from the homie, and scroll past something that genuinely moves us because it's from a person we don't really bang with anymore?  A better question is why do we stay connected to people we don't really bang with anymore?  I know there are reasons for one or two that we probably can't even verbalize  - history, a love, a respect, a.... something that won't let us cut the rope - but by and large, them muhfuckas have zero significance to your life, past or present.  So why do we stay connected?  Why don't we delete all the people whose every post make us roll our eyes?  Why do we do that?

In this case, the question is far more important than the answer.  Much of 2020 has been that way.  I think we're missing the message, people....

I'm Tired

Breonna Taylor.  I know you all heard the bullshit news that came down today, concerning the charges that were brought against ONE officer, for SHOOTING INTO A NEIGHBORING APARTMENT!!!

WHAT?????

I wanna talk about this shit but I just can't.  I ain't got no more.  So you know what.......

Procrastination: A Perspective

 

True story.  I saw this post last weekend and been making up for lost time ever since.

10 Years Later

Hard to believe, but today marks the 10-year anniversary of my big move.  What a ride it has been.

The ups and downs have at times made me question the decision I made, but my biggest fear was also my biggest motivator.  Having to throw in the towel and return to Rochester would have felt like my life's greatest failure; not only because it would suggest that I didn't have what it took to make it work, but also because it would bolster the arguments of the naysayers who thought my sudden decision to blow up my life was crazy to begin with.  Most people will never know how close to that line I came, but the struggle I'd have to endure turning things around here was far less detrimental to the condition of my spirit than going back would have been.  There was never a time when I didn't know that, and I have to imagine that my friends knew it too, because not a single time did any of them suggest I consider going back.  I'll always love them for that.

Ten years later, I have a kid in college and another making waves with his media company (and a new single that dropped today on all streaming platforms - go cop that #Ma$e by Young Beamer).  Personally and professionally, I've evolved tremendously.  Looking forward to new ventures with my newly erected business and on a path to rediscovering myself as mommy duties slowly fade from my plate.  

Of all this last decade's lessons, among the most important have been "stay grateful" and "trust the process."  When it's all said and done, you can be sure that you were always exactly where you were supposed to be at any given moment.  Not that anything is predetermined, but it is all by design - yours.  We are the sum total of our choices and we therefore have the power to create whatever world we choose and even change course, if necessary.  All up to you.

So... what you gon do?

#FFT

 

Well I'll Be Damned!

Yesterday, a bodycam video surfaced displaying an unarmed black man being killed by Rochester, NY police officers, 2 months BEFORE the now infamous George Floyd homicide by officers in Minnesota that set the world on fire.  Daniel Prude was mocked and teased by officers while lying handcuffed and naked on March 23, 2020, after his brother called authorities to assist the man, who was said to be having a "mental health episode."  The video shows officers placed a hood over Prude's head, knelt in his back and held his face to the pavement for two minutes until he stopped breathing, despite Prude's compliance with all their instructions.  Prude died in the hospital a week later, which the family and attorneys alleged was as a result of the incident, causing lack of oxygen to his brain.  PCP was later found in Prude's system, however the medical examiner's report seemed to support the family's theory, declaring the death a homicide, as a result of asphyxiation associated with restraint. This is what prompted the DA to refer the case to the AG, which subsequently resulted in an executive order from the Governor for her to do so.

We know this is happening all over America, but it hits a little differently when it happens in a town you spent most of your life in, where you personally know both the Mayor and the Chief of Police, as many there do.  I'm upset that this would happen there, but I'm even more frustrated by the ignorance I've seen from some Rochesterians since the release of the video.

It's kind of ironic: many people have been baffled by anyone still denying there is a problem with policing after seeing the George Floyd video.  "It's on video, you're not gonna believe something you see happening right before your own eyes?"  Still many are overly concerned with what happened prior to what was captured or what was in his criminal background - any excuse to justify what is blatantly obvious.  Likewise, many Rochester dwellers flocked to social media to defend the Mayor and COP for their obvious role in this having been kept quiet since March.  Some ran to Google and ran right back to their pages to post about Cuomo's order for these types of incidents to be investigated by the AG.  Some ran to "clarify" that the video was requested under the Freedom Of Information Act (FOIA) and therefore released BY police and furthermore proves there was no cover up.  Some even blamed the family for the city not being aware that this tragedy had taken place.

I swear, I can't stand people.

Cuomo's order was not a gag order.  It gives the AG jurisdiction, it doesn't mean city officials can't speak on it.  That's evident from the fact that they spoke on it yesterday in response to the video - what they said yesterday, could have been said 5 months ago. Many cases under AG investigation have been disclosed to the public.  The city is also not prohibited from conducting an internal investigation on such matters for disciplinary purposes, nor taking temporary disciplinary actions against those involved while it awaits the determination of the investigation.  No action has been taken against these officers, to date.

The FOIA REQUIRES information to be released to inquiring parties with standing (as designated by the act).  There was no choice in the matter.  If there was, dollars to donuts, we STILL wouldn't know that this occurred.  

It's also been stated several times that it took the family and their legal team considerable time to secure the footage under the FOIA, which was believed to have been prompted by the release of the medical examiner's report findings.  Prior to that was unclear what had actually happened.  Keep in mind, this was initially a mental health call.

People clearly see what happened on this video, and can't deny they knew nothing of it prior to it's release.  Why didn't you know about it?  Why don't you have questions about how this could happen in America's current state of affairs without any mention being made of it, amidst all the other police commentary this Mayor and Police Chief has given over the last few months?  Regarding the Mayor, specifically, today's been a bunch of, " I know her and...." No, you don't.  It's so annoying how many people will say they know somebody they know only OF, or know peripherally.  If y'all ain't broke bread, if she ain't been to the house, if yall ain't worked together, you don't fucken know her. But let's say you're one of a bunch of people who actually do.  Why don't you think she could be capable of something untoward?  If you really know her, you also know she's 100% capable of doing whatever she needs to do protect her name and career.  Keep it a bean - we're ALL capable - but to insist that anyone wouldn't is to attest to a level of integrity that this mayor does not possess.  This mayor has been a friend of our family for decades.  In fact, my mother mentored her, campaigned with her and went on to become her executive assistant when she was voted into office.  She's been to the crib.  She's eaten my mama's sweet potato pie.  She's called us her sisters.  All of that and I wouldn't even claim to know her like I know the people I KNOW.  But I do know a lot of the shit she's done while holding that office, and I promise you, you don't want to bet your brand defending hers.

That being said, I'm not here to slander anyone. I'm simply wondering why people continue allowing what they think they know about a person to cloud their judgment when the facts are available for your own consumption.  Don't be sheep.

Most of all, stop speaking on shit until you know what you're talking about, and even then, only talk about it TO THE EXTENT that you know what you're talking about.  Y'all on Al Gore's internet looking stupid as hell.

Farewell, King.

 

The death of Chadwick Boseman was such a shock to the world.  Not just because he was only 43, but because he gave us so many amazing performances while battling cancer no one outside his immediate circle was aware of.  I have to say I did think he might be sick after photos surfaced of him looking unnaturally gaunt, but it still felt like it came out of nowhere when he left us on Friday.  My son and I found out at the same time and just looked at each other in the silence of both disbelief and heartbreak.  We are a Marvel family if there ever was one - I don't think we're fully over Stan - and although Chad brought a number of roles to life in his short time with us, he'll be indelibly printed on our minds and in our hearts as the beloved Wakandan King T'Challa, The Black Panther. 

I planned to end this post there, but I just can't shake the thought of what he had to be dealing with - physically, mentally, emotionally and every other which way - all while delivering such amazing performances over the past 4 years, since his diagnosis.  To keep that illness private was to declare that there would be no excuses; to ensure this illness would not be any part of the conversation whenever anyone spoke his name.  A statement that his work would speak for itself.  For that alone, I have so much respect for this man.  We've all phoned it in at one time or another over far, far less.  That being said, we're no more entitled to know what people are dealing with than they are to know of our struggles, but it's safe to say we never know what somebody might be carrying.  So just be kind.  Be kind.

Rest in power, King.  #WakandaForever

Sitting here watching a third season of "Married At First Sight" that I missed since I stopped watching 5 seasons ago, wondering what the FUCK is wrong with people? LOL  I forgot how crazy this show could be - I def need to pick up on the current season because I've gotten caught up and they're wilding too.

Anyway, I came across a question on Facebook today that was kind of hard to respond to because I'm not sure it was clearly posed, but I wanted to unpack it a bit.

The post:

"Women communicate clearly in a relationship with a man in what you want and don’t want... and most times when he falls short, we extend grace when they mess up but.... it takes awhile before we just cut them off and move on. We may cuss them out but we soon forgive and everything is good again....They go in the doghouse but once they buy us a purse, we making love and making up ... all is happy in love bird town..... BUT....

When it comes to the relationships we have with women, we are conditioned to do 1 of 3 things ... ignore, cuss out or cut off... there is no communication at all. There is no grace, no forgiveness, no let’s try to fix this because I see value... Why do we as women do this? Why are female relationships valued less than a relationship with a man?"

There was a third part to this but I omitted it because it was somewhat confusing, given it had absolutely nothing to do with the core question of why we "communicate clearly" to men and subsequently forgive them time and time again, but don't extend that same courtesy to our female friends before cutting them off.  

First of all, neither is true, definitively, though either may be.  I also don't think the women doing "a" do it in every relationship, just like a woman who cuts a friend off with no further communication doesn't do it as a rule.  I think in most cases, it takes a while before you cut that friend off and move on too.  Maybe you're unsure what you're seeing with them and it takes a certain thing happening to confirm they're on the bullshit.  Or the things they've been doing seem small until that final straw that tells you this is just a shitty individual exhibiting a pattern that they're of questionable character.  People do get cut off with no further communication about it, but that shit is rarely out the blue.  I believe that in most cases, it's something that's been building for some time.  

Furthermore, IMO, it's not a man vs. woman thing, like at all.  It just so happens that [heterosexual] women date men and many of their friends are women, but I'd contend that those women are just as likely to cut a male friend off, and I'm 1000% sure that women in romantic relationships with other women give hella passes too.  Maybe this would have been better posed as a relationship vs. friendship question.  Men vs. women.....eh.

But let's start with the first piece, which gives women way too much credit LOL.  Women DON'T tend to communicate clearly what they want and don't want in a relationship before OR after a fuck up.  That's part of why there are subsequent fuck ups - it does you no good to address the specific thing that happened and not connect that thing to the overall standard that it violated.  But that's what happens a lot of the time.  No shade to my sister girls - men don't always communicate what they want clearly either.  

That being said, there's levels to "falling short," as the post calls it.  What exactly is he doing?  Is he leaving the toilet seat up, or is he fucking my sister? LOL  Cause that matters.  What are these transgressions sis is forgiving?  Are we talking missteps, or are we talking betrayals?  Because the same thing applies to friendship violations - there are levels.  I believe the way a woman responds to any friend is going to depend on what they did.  Like I commented on the original Facebook post, " Am I just disappointed, or can I no longer trust you?"  That shit matters.

I will say though, as someone who takes her friendships very seriously, I almost hold them to a higher standard than my relationships.  Definitely a different standard.  Men come and go (until they don't) just like the fleeting emotional responses they provoke from you.  Friends are fixtures.  They're often people you've known for a length of time, who've been privy to private moments and  with whom you've shared a great deal.  So when they violate, that shit is personal.  Emotions can't rival that.  If there's really any difference in the way women handle these two scenarios, I'd say it's that. A robbery always hits different when it's an inside job.  

So.... there ya have it.

Dear Allies...

Please unlearn the phrase, "I don't see color/race."  You CANNOT be a true ally if you don't understand how problematic this statement is.

I know the intent of the phrase is to demonstrate a belief that everyone is the same from the standpoint of humanity.  It's admirable.  The problem is, we live in a country that does not view it's people this way.  There are, indeed, differences between us, and as a result of the creation (yes, Love, google it) and eventual weaponizing of race, if you don't see color, you cannot see that our experiences as black men, women and children are unique in both amazing and terrifying ways. 

Ask yourself why you even feel the need to say that you don't see color.  I contend it's because you actually do, and you fully understand the implications the color of our skin carry with it.  Otherwise, there would be no compulsion to insist that you're different, especially since.... well..... you're not.

In the same way omission is a lie, failing to acknowledge the systemic oppression that has plagued us for nearly 400 years is tantamount to complicity.  It's WORSE than silence.  It's gaslighting. 

You live in a nation that requires its "citizens" to self identify.  We're "one nation, under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all," right?  So what the fuck difference does it make what box I check?  Oh, right.  The shit they feed us about wanting to make sure programs and dollars are allocated (or not) in the proper places.  Come on son.

To not acknowledge the differences between your existence and ours is to highlight the fact that you never even have to think about it.  How many times in your entire life have you actually left your home with your whiteness in the back of your mind?  How many times has the sudden awareness of your skin color impacted the way - or even if - you interacted with any particular group of people? How often do you even think of yourself as white, except in the presence of black and brown people?  And I contend that when you're in the presence of black and brown people, you still don't think about your whiteness.  You think about our black and brownness.  Tell me I'm wrong.

My blackness is a threat to people I'll never even meet, and in spaces I will never even occupy.  Just think about that.  That's a fucken powerful attribute, yet it puts black lives in danger every single hour of every single day in this country.   America is the poster child for destroying power it can't wield.  Together, there would be no limit to things we could achieve as a nation, but America is not a team player.  Racists have no interest in"Team Gold" so they are forever the Tonya Harding to our Nancy Kerrigan. 

So if you really want to be an ally, stop saying you don't see color.  You NEED to see color to see ME. I don't have the luxury of not being painfully aware of the both the gift and the curse it is to walk around in this skin.  I don't have the luxury of not understanding that it is the gift that has brought on the curse - but you're not ready for that.  I don't have the luxury of feeling entitled to ANYTHING, even when I am.  But I also don't have the luxury of accepting the world as it is.  This skin requires that I fight for what I'm due, for what my children are due.  If you're going to be an ally, I'm going to expect you to be by my side, fighting with me.  With us.  SEEING us.  

And you can't do that UNTIL you see color.

In love.

Fucken Paula

Most mornings I wake up with a song in my head. Never really know where it comes from - maybe it's got something to do with whatever I was dreaming about - but most of the time it's something I hear a lot and it generally sets the mood for my day. But I'm talking about Cardi B, T.I., Drake, or somebody that plays frequently on one of my playlists, so today threw me for a whole loop. It wasn't even just a song in my head. Today it was all the songs and guess who? 

Motherfuckin' Paula Abdul. PAULA ABDUL! WTF is happening right now? LOL 

No clue, but from the time I got up to pee at 5:13 a.m. to the time I brought my ass online a few minutes ago, all I could think about was the mood named Paula who provided a soundtrack for a short period in my life that always made me feel like dancing. Who thinks about Paula Abdul? Surely not me, especially in this day and time, but I lied in bed this morning going through all the songs I remembered from the late 80's, trying to think of the one that I really loved. After a whole "Cold Hearted [snake]" and "Opposites Attract" it came to me - "Forever Your Girl." It was such a fun song, just hearing it in my head has had me smiling and bopping around the house this morning. When I got online, I had no choice but to find it on YouTube. I instantly remembered the video as it started to play and it made me SO nostalgic. There were a couple of moments that actually flooded me with emotion and brought tears to my eyes. 

Nothing specific cme to me in terms of people or events, but I was definitely transported back to a time I shared a bedroom with my sister. A colorful ass room - blue, pink, tagging on the wall.... in retrospect, I'm really shocked my mother had allowed it. The room was all I could see. Right On! posters of Michael Jackson, New Edition and some other folks all over the walls. A boombox with one of the speaker covers missing on the front, and a cassette door that always got stuck but managed to tape the weekly countdown on the radio just fine every Friday night. Little ass TV sitting on a chair in the corner of the room that we watched The Box on. My sister's drooly pillowcase and wads of gum stuck on her bedpost. I spent a great deal of time in that room, by myself as my sister was often out running around with her friends and my only real friend at the time was the music. But boy did I love it. 

I remember another couple of songs I'd just play over and over again from some of the tapes I'd make off the radio.... "All I Want Is Forever," by Regina Bell and J.T. Taylor (who I had no business having a crush on) was a big one. The Jets - oh, I LOVED The Jets - "You Got It All."  Madonna, "Crazy For You."  Pebbles and Babyface, "Love Makes Things Happen." Michelle', "Something In My Heart." The Deele, "Two Occasions." There were more over that few years' time, but these - OH! I played them SO much. SOOOO much. This was definitely the time that music settled into my soul, guaranteeing it's place in my process of bringing me back from whatever place I found myself not wanting to be. Hours and hours I'd just play my tapes, sometimes singing at the top of my lungs, other times, just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Uhhh! Just thinking about that makes me wish for simpler times, but the magic of music is the ability to press play and instantly be right back there. 

Man. 

Fucken Paula.

Paying the Piper

I. Hate. Creditors.

And I'm not even talking about the ones you entered into agreements with, cause I've never had a problem cursing them folks smooth out, knowing 99% of the time, we're having whatever conversation we're having because of some bullshit that they did. I'm talking about the third party companies that acquire your account from those original creditors. Them MF's will have you so tight! Cause they petty AF, for people who are demanding somebody else's money. Nigga, I don't even owe you! Nobody told you to go buy them people's accounts! But for those who don't know, the idea is this: it's already charged to the game that you're not gonna pay the original creditor, for whatever reason. Something is better than nothing, right? So the creditor will allow these third party companies to buy your debt from them for pennies on the dollar and then they'll write off the rest.
The debt collector will then attempt to collect that debt from you in order to cover what they bought it for and anything on top of that is profit. So if you owe Direct TV, for instance, $1,000, a debt collector might purchase that debt for as little as $40. They're amenable to making a deal with you because even if they only get you to agree to pay half, they've recouped that $40 and made a $460 profit. That's why they're usually kind of nice to you when they reach out (if they're smart), but that shit goes out the window when they're at the point of tryna take your ass to court.

I told y'all a while back I've become a full-fledged grown up now. I took the necessary steps to repair my credit, and some of that was through disputing erroneous and aging items on my credit report. One item has remained over the past couple of years that I just refused to pay because of the back story. I had a credit card, once upon a time, with a little $350 limit. It was back in my struggle days and I def struggled to keep up with it LOL. It was fine most of the time, with the exception of the couple of occasions when my payment was late and I'd get a call from one of their customer service representatives. I don't know why, but it seemed like it was the same guy calling every time, which low key made me suspicious, but I'd generally end up just making the payment. After a series of things occurred resulting in me maxing the card out, I get a call from this same dude about making payment. I proceed to tell him that if I had it to pay, I'd have paid it. I didn't have it, so they couldn't get it. This dude lost his whole entire mind. He literally started CURSING at me, getting so disrespectful, talking shit to me about how I shouldn't have a credit card if I can't pay it. I've had customer service people get smart before or have bad attitudes in general, but I had NEVER in my life had one talk to me like he was crazy. I couldn't believe it. I wasn't about to go back and forth with him though, so I just told him to close my account and good luck getting the money from me. As I should have expected, this MF called me back TWICE, still talking shit. I blocked him, then proceeded to call into the office to lodge a complaint. Trouble was, in all the shit, I never got his name or any identifying information, so I suppose it went nowhere. I did confirm again though that I'd like my account closed. They did not oblige, however. They told me the account couldn't be closed until it was paid. Okay, but if Y'ALL wanted to close my account, there would be no problem, right? It's because I want it closed that we have a problem. Fuck that guy and fuck you too, lady.

Fast forward about 7 or 8 years, this item is the lone derogatory mark on my credit report. I tried to have it removed but it was a legitimate debt, hadn't aged out (from the time they reported it), and the debt collector had enough accurate information to validate it. Everything else was either removed or paid but this MF just sat there, and my pride would not let me pay it. First it was just the memory of what went down with them, and then it was compounded by the fees they had the audacity to add on top of the original $350 as a result of not closing the account at my request, which now brought the debt to about $860. All I could think was the nerve of these people. I would have fought every last one of them if I could LOL. I remember about a year ago, sitting in my financial advisor's office. He said, "Look at you, literally sitting there stewing, on your high horse, like you didn't bring this on yourself." Yup, I was mad at that too LOL. He didn't care what I said about it, how I had been treated, nothing. It was a debt I owed, fees and all at their discretion, and his main point; "You have the money, just pay the thing!"

"NOPE." I'm stubborn. Especially when I'm on my high horse, as he called it. That being said, I did reach out to try to pay it after about 8 more months went by, but I could never get a response to my messages. What I should have done was reported to my credit bureaus that I had made several attempts and the debt collector had ignored them. I MAY have been able to get the debt wiped away then. But instead, I said fuck it, I'm not gonna keep calling y'all to give you money I don't even owe to you. Fast forward to a week or so ago and I get a certified FedEx containing a notification that these assholes submitted a petition to the courts for a wage execution. Are you fucken kidding me???

So still mad, I decide to reach out and see if we can come to some resolution. I know I'm gonna have to pay something, but I'm hoping I can settle for considerably less than what they're asking. I leave a message, no response. I call back today (about 3 days later) and finally speak to somebody who basically tells me that once the court has been petitioned, there isn't anything she can do. Okay well transfer me to your manager. Let's see if there's something they can do. I get the Office Manger, Lisa. She's got one of though "nicety" demeanors, where she's not speaking with a "tone" really, but definitely still giving you those passive-aggressive "sucks to be you" type responses. She essentially tells me all she can do is take a payment for the full amount they're requesting, AND it sounds like I may get a second invoice from the court person assigned to the file, who is due fees of another $100-some-odd. Oh, I see, y'all did this shit on purpose. There are absolutely no words to describe the level of pissed I am as I end that call, but of course, I can't give Lisa the pleasure. "That's fine, I'll respond to the court then."

I had absolutely every intention of doing so, even pulled up my Word app and started typing out the letter. I was about 3/4 of the way done before I decided to go to the court's website and see what actual recourse I had. Everything I saw said I'd probably not have a leg to stand on, because principles and $2.25 will get you a swipe into the subway. After all, Lisa had informed me that a judgment had been obtained at some point in 2016 that I either knew nothing about or just have no recollection of. Nether of those things would erase it's actual existence from the court's files, so in this case, it actually does just suck to be me right now.

I'm boiling inside but it appears paying the stupid thing is the only choice I have if I want to maintain the good credit standing I've worked so hard to achieve over the past couple of years. I hate that my financial advisor was right and I should have just paid it, because I know he's somewhere looking over the rim of his glasses, judging me.

*pause to make online payment*

UGH!

Suppression

I thought I was depressed for the longest time. Fully aware that not all depression is crippling to the point of not being able to function, I was sure it was responsible for my inability to muster more than the bare minimum required to maintain. Why else would I have been doing the things I was doing, which was essentially not much at all? Why else would I feel such exhaustion the moment I got home, despite all the things I had been thinking all day about doing when I got there? It had to be the reason I'd end up in my room, door closed, in the bed, just watching TV night after night despite the numerous things in this house that needed attention. I knew for a fact that something was wrong and no matter how much sage I burned, how much I meditated, I was never able to shake it for more than a day or so. I've never been much of a sharer when dealing with a personal matter - I'm very much a "figure this shit out" type of person - but it had gotten to the point that I just really didn't know what to do.

In this regard, this pandemic might have been the best thing that could have happened to me. During this time at home, I've been able to slow down and really understand some things I had previously been moving too fast to consider. The rat race is one we all run but there's no hustle and bustle like that of NYC. Go, go, go, all the time. I thought that explained the fatigue when I got home - and to some degree, it had to play a part - but it's been more than that.

I, like many, decided to use this downtime to better myself. Boxing has been amazing. It's not only a great workout; it has really done wonders in helping me manage my stress. It hurts, but I feel great afterwards knowing I've done something good for myself. I feel that way after every workout now, whether I box or not. I feel the same way in my kitchen, cooking up healthier meals than I would be eating out in the world. I definitely miss some of the old lunch spots, but again, I'm doing something good here. So why am I still not getting to things? Why does the end of my work day still flip a switch to this lack of motivation where all I wanna do is head to the room, close the door and.... rinse and repeat?

Oddly enough, it was one of my kids that pulled my coattail to it. My son intercepted me in the kitchen just as I had come in the house from getting my Drizly order at the door. He said, "Mom, didn't you just do an order?" It was Friday. I had just placed an order on Monday and I reordered because I was out already. On Friday. I hadn't even realized how quickly I had blown through that half gallon of rum. I'm sure I said something dismissive in that moment, but I was mortified. See, the other thing I was doing in my room was drinking.

Recently everyone I know has made some comment about how lately they've been drinking way too much. The fact of the matter is, I wasn't drinking any more than I usually did, but that was the problem in itself. I had BEEN drinking too much. It started rather innocently - or purposefully, perhaps is a better word. The year before I relocated, a guy that lived a few houses down from me was murdered outside my house. My kids and I were on the couch at the time, just on the other side of the enclosed porch that sat between us and danger outside. The fear that incident left me with kept us from family time in the living room for weeks after that. When I did return to the living room, I found myself laying down on the couch, or slouching down below window level. I had some serious PTSD and hadn't been sleeping to the point I felt like I was losing my mind. There were many a drinking night at that time and I quickly realized that drinking helped me sleep. It became my fix for that particular issue.

Fast forward 11 years and I was still drinking every night to go to sleep. EVERY NIGHT. And if you know anything about alcohol, you know the more you drink it, the more you have to drink to achieve the same effects. By this time, I was easily downing a whole pint most nights. I have known for a long time that it's not normal and definitely not healthy, but every time I'd try to go bed without drinking, I'd toss and turn all night, or at least until I gave up and poured myself a stiff one. Sure there have been times I had been running all day, came home kind of late and just fell out, but those nights were few and far between. It had become a bigger problem than I ever realized but still, I didn't know what to do.

Then the most horrible, most amazing thing happened. I got on the phone to catch up with one of my oldest friends one night, drinking as usual. A really bad habit I've developed because when I'm on the phone, I'm not paying attention to how much I'm drinking or refilling. 2 hours later, we hang up and I basically pass out. I felt fine when I initially stirred the next morning, but the second I stepped out of bed and opened my eyes to head to my bathroom, it hit me. My eyes felt broken - they hurt and everything looked like a fun house mirror. Dizzy, I also could barely walk, staggering the 10 feet from my bed to the bathroom door. I sat down and closed my eyes and felt okay, but when I got up, it was the same thing all over again. I had to work so I had no choice but try to pull myself together. Try as I may though, Motrin, sunglasses, hair of the dog - nothing was helping. I barely made it through the zoom meeting I had with my boss, which I did with the camera off, and the second we hung up, I knew I was about to lose that battle of trying not to throw up. I made it to my bedroom just in time to hurl in the garbage and knew I'd have been much better off if I had just thrown up in the first place. IDK why we always try to fight it. I was fortunate enough to not have any external meetings that day and did all my internal ones with the camera off while I laid in bed, struggling. It was around 6 pm that night before any sense of normalcy started to return. It was the WORST experience I've ever had behind alcohol and I knew I wanted no parts of it any time soon.

The following day was the first of my week-long detox. I wasn't sure how I was gonna make it through the night, but tea proved helpful. I still had a really hard time going to sleep, but I was determined not to drink. A week later was my 1-year anniversary at my job and I had also closed a big deal, so my anniversary twin and I decided we should drink to the accomplishment. I woke up fine the next morning, but had the world's wickedest migraine by noon. I was and still am convinced the universe was trying to tell me celebrating was not the move. But still, there was happy hour the next night. I didn't want to drink at all but I decided it would be fine to just have ONE drink if I made it like normal people would make it. Besides, it had to be a good complement to the tea I'd have after and help me fall asleep, right? Another bad idea. From just the one light drink, I started to feel sick. I didn't even finish it, I ended up pouring about a fourth of it in the sink. My body simply does not want it and I couldn't be happier about it because I'm not quite sure I'd have been able to step away from it on my own.

So it's been a couple of weeks now and not only do I feel great, I've become more productive and much more intuitive. I'm slowly getting to sleep faster, I'm sleeping better and my dreams are so much more vivid. Reflecting last night after feeling just so grateful for the day, I know now that I wasn't depressed. I was suppressed. My system, my mind, my spirit - all suppressed. Now that I'm not drinking is the first time in a very long time that I feel like I'm firing on all cylinders. My thoughts are flowing freely again, I'm back to planning and mapping out things I want to do and I'm vibrating on a much higher frequency, consistently. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from me.

Now does this mean I'll never drink again? I'd be lying if I said I didn't believe I'd indulge at some point, but I plan to stay the course for the foreseeable future. When I do have a drink again, it will be for a reason and not just out of boredom or some crazy routine that's taken over my life. I fully intend to come out of this pandemic my best self and since that's likely not gonna be until 2021, I've got plenty of time to get it right.

"Fatal Affair" (Review)

*******Spoiler Alert*******

In this edition of "90 minutes of my life I can't get back," "Fatal Affair" is.... terrible LOL. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank your lucky stars, but it's a Netflix Original movie starring Omar Epps, Nia Long and Stephen Bishop. Now if you know anything about these actors and their bodies of work, you'd expect a lot from the flick. That is until you come to know the plot of the movie, which is anything but original.

What is it about terrible reviews that make you wanna watch a movie to see just how bad it is? I actually don't think it's got as much to do with the reviews as it does FOMO. If everyone is talking about something, you naturally are drawn toward it, just wanting to be in the know. Maybe these people aren't sophisticated enough to appreciate it, right? I mean, I've definitely found that to be the case sometimes when I've heard mixed reviews, but I have seen absolutely no one have anything good to say about this one. But it's Omar Epps, Nia Long and friggin Stephen Bishop! How bad could it really be?

Chile....LOL

First of all, how many more movies are we gonna get where there's some obsessed person - woman or man - who is such a delusional psychopath that they're just willing to kill everybody to get to the object of their desire, believing that person really wants to be with them despite their insistence to be left alone? I contend that there's just not a lot of ways to do that plot in any interesting, different way than has been done 99,000 times before, but this movie didn't even try. I legit got flashbacks of Michael Ealy, Dean Cain, and the fucken guy whose name I can't remember for the life of me who is the nut job in countless Lifetime movies. Oh, D.W. Moffet - I'm convinced that motherfucker is crazy in real life LOL. This movie even duplicated a lot of the same scenes - like the one where someone hears a noise and walks toward it, being redirected by a microwave or tea kettle or some shit just before they approach the corner the bad guy is lurking behind with a knife. Give me a break!

Now let's talk about Nia Long. Beautiful, sexy? Yes. But I never thought she was much of an actress. The characters she played in her previous roles weren't really stretched that far and I still found her mediocre, so it should be no surprise in this role, I was not impressed. Like AT ALL. She was giving me all the Mariska Hargitay in the world, and if you've watched Law & Order SVU over the years, you HAVE to know what I'm talking about. I've often wondered if she had a stroke at some point in the last few years because she not only looks a little distorted in the face, but her response time on lines is notably slower and disjointed emotionally from what we would deem to be natural, and what we saw from her in earlier years. It oddly comes off as a disinterest, or like someone who has been out of the game for decades and came back with a fraction of the confidence they once had. Nia is still beautiful and sexy but she definitely checks the latter box. Her tone throughout the movie just seemed glaringly flat. Even her sex scenes sucked, but in fairness, all the sex scenes sucked LOL. I'm not even gonna get into the scenes that were just unrealistic, but trust, there were several.

I'm honestly just baffled at how a movie could be this bad in 2020. There's an obvious blueprint for this one and they didn't even follow that well. Even the tittle was bunk - "Fatal Affair" and there wasn't even an affair. Netflix [likely] paid somebody hundreds of thousands of dollars for this? At least tens of thousands. WTF am I doing with my life??

Lovebirds, on the other hand, is funny af. Watch that instead.

Writing on the Wall

This is usually the part where I come in and apologize for my absence. The fact is, I've been in here quite frequently in recent weeks, I just haven't been posting for public consumption. Most of what I've written is kind of all over the place - me working through my feelings on whatever the topic may be and going back to reflect on those initial thoughts when I find myself in a different head space. Some days I'm making lists - what do I need to do in order to do what I want to do? And also, what DO I want to do? I've written my way to insanity and back. I've written dreams to fruition. I've written the hair off my head, and I have literally written people out of my life.

So why am I back in the yard today? Well.... because while most of the people who used to frequent this blog likely jumped ship long ago (understandable, given my highly inconsistent upkeep), there are at least 3 people who I know still check for whatever thoughts I have to offer on a given day. More importantly, the commitment I made with the creation of this blog was to me, and one thing the current state of isolation with the pandemic has underscored for me is how often I abandon commitments I make to myself. Trust and believe if I tell someone else I'm going to do something, good money says it's going to get done, but I've openly struggled with negotiating my own place in my list of priorities, and the struggle is still very real.

It's interesting really; I've boarded and buckled securely into the self-care boat in the sense of making sure I take time for myself, and take care of my mind and body, but for some reason I still find myself negotiating the importance of things with less material outcomes. Yes, writing produces a post - an actual thing - but not writing doesn't impact me in any meaningful way, if that makes sense. And it's not that it's without consequence, it's just that the consequence of that non-action isn't immediately felt. It's not until weeks or months later when there's this extended void in my voice here that I feel it, but feeling that has its own implications. My "inlook" is never quite as fragile as when the pages of this blog have been bare for an obscene length of time. And I've dealt with enough in these past 4 months to excuse it away as "going through something," but those are the times I need to be writing most. Those are the times when what I have to say has real value, as evident in conversations I've had with people over the years, and the people who continue to quote me on their social media platforms to this day. A friend of mine recently reminded me of that, so I suppose you can thank him for my being back in the yard.

I'm not sorry though. When I feel the need to take time for me, I don't count any space an obligation. I think that's something we should all accept about each other - we're not entitled to anyone's time or attention even when we're so accustomed to having it. That's why we should appreciate it when we do have it. Cause one day..... well.

#SafeAtHome

I woke up at 3:38 this morning to go to the bathroom. Got back in the bed, but whether or not I actually went back to sleep is debatable. There were moments here and there when I'd feel myself go under, but I'd be right back up in a matter of seconds or minutes, just inundated with thoughts.

Good thoughts.

Bad thoughts.

"Wish I never had..." thoughts (forgive me, I couldn't help myself LOL)

But seriously, just so many thoughts, really associated in no way at all: dead people I haven't thought about in years, ex-boyfriends (or whatever we may have been calling ourselves at the time), my hair, my Amazon delivery, the beer in the fridge, and the fact that my bed isn't built for the kind of sex I was also thinking about, just to name a few. I also remember thinking about a lesson I learned far too late in the game, and wishing I had learned it sooner. In fact, I wished I had done a lot of things sooner.

One thing this pandemic has taught me is that things we put off today could very easily and without warning become things we never get the chance to do. Who knew the world would fucken CLOSE? How is that even a thing? But here we are.

And now having received official notice from my employer that we will continue to work from home until at least August 1, I find myself with renewed purpose.

I pissed away the last 2 months - no real exercise to speak of, no home improvement projects, no planning, no nothing that would be in any way contributing to a better me. But now with the confirmation of another 2 months minimum working from home, the amazing Mother's Day I had was the start to doing things differently.

I started boxing again with my son, and even got my daughter in on it. I'm experimenting in the kitchen and making some of the most delicious food I've never before made in my life. I'm not only thinking about things I want to do in my house; I'm thinking about buying one. I'm paying closer attention to the options I own and evaluating which I should invest more in. Ten minutes after my kids say goodnight to me, I'm in their rooms again telling them I love them and hugging them tightly - admittedly, that's fear. Of so many things.

My daughter wrote me the most heartfelt letter for Mother's Day, talking about the ways in which I have influenced her. Truth is, she has influenced me too. Her passion for going natural has inspired me to let my relaxer go. I only permed it 3, maybe 4 times a year anyway (as opposed to the recommended 6-8 weeks) so I figure fuck it, why not? I'm stuck in the house for God knows how long so nobody's gotta witness the process and if it doesn't work out, I can always go back to my perm. I did it initially as a show of solidarity for her, but in the process, I've fallen in love with it. It's not even that much more work, I just have to manage the two textures until such time that I become comfortable with chopping off the permed length and I think that will be sooner than I initially thought. Stay tuned.

84 degrees on a May Friday in Jersey and not a single place to go if I wanted to. But honestly right now, there's no place I'd rather be than home, taking it all in... from inside. #SafeAtHome

A New Normal

Two months since I've posted - SMH. I've been up in the house too, so there really isn't any other excuse other than being distracted by this COVID-19 mess we're all in. Actually, that's not true. Transitioning to this new normal created by the COVID-19 pandemic is what's taken a lot of my attention. I've been working from home since March 9th and it's been a huge adjustment for me. I didn't WFH very often before all this because I feel so much more productive in the office, but having to do it until God knows when meant figuring out a routine that would work for the long haul.

Here are a few tips I picked up along the way:

* Get up early. Maybe not as early as you would if you needed to make the commute to the office, but having a couple of hours to center and have time for yourself rather than just launching yourself into your work day makes a HUGE difference in how you execute.

* Get up, shower and get dressed every day. Even if you just put on leggings and a t-shirt, COME OUT OF THOSE PAJAMAS.

* Don't work from your bed. If you don't have a home office setup, designate a place OUTSIDE OF YOUR BEDROOM where you will work and when the work is done, leave that space.

(These things help you compartmentalize work vs personal time, and prevent your time in quarantine from feeling like one long ass, run-on day.)

* Take breaks. WFH, it's very easy to find yourself sitting in your work the entire time you're on the clock. Step away from your laptop/computer/work device every couple of hours, for at least 15 minutes each time. TAKE YOUR FULL LUNCH BREAK, and do so away from your device. Also don't work any earlier or later than you typically would. Reclaim your time.

* GO OUTSIDE. I cannot stress this enough. The idea is to stay away from other people as much as possible, and to take precautions when that can't be avoided, not to make you feel like you're on house arrest. Go for a walk or a run, or hell just stand outside your house for a few minutes a day. Walk to the corner. Something. Sunlight and fresh air are essential in maintaining your health (and sanity).

* Get cute. Whenever you feel up to it, ladies, put your whole face on. Looking the part helps you feel the part, and you never know when your day might include a video conference.

Which brings me to my last point:

* Stay connected. Bars and restaurants are closed in most places now but that doesn't mean you can't have virtual drinks or dinner with your people. I do it several times a week with my team from work and at least once a week with friends. It helps to be able to see their faces, and to be reminded that we're all in this together.

Oh, and turn the goddamn news off. Nothing but negativity is being reported and it's only going to make you more paranoid - especially when a lot of what is being reported is misinformation engineered to create that response. Fear is a means of control. Know that.

Just some things I've found helpful.

Ironic that the last time I was in here, someone had died - I actually lost a long-time friend today as well. A friend we have in common posted about it on social media and I learned he had had a heart attack about 4 weeks ago and just never fully recovered. He was my boss for several years and we cultivated a friendship in the process; occasionally meeting for coffee, lunch, drinks, or just to chat for years after we no longer worked together. I never saw him again after I relocated 10 years ago, but we kept in touch up until about 3 years ago, which I believe is when we last spoke - just LIFE. Too young to be gone so soon, but the older I get, the more this becomes common place. I found out this morning and it's taken all day for it to sink in. I'm EXTREMELY saddened by his loss, but grateful for having known him and for all the people out there who feel his loss because of how great a person he was.

Deep sigh...

Rest easy, my friend.

Rest...

I was on my way to have dinner with a friend of mine last night when cuzzo called. She normally texts me so my antennae were slightly raised from the jump.

"Cuzzo.....what up?"

She greeted me in a tone much more contained than I'm used to, letting me know there'd be bad news before she ever actually said the words. I wanted to know how bad it was gonna be though I could tell already that someone had died. She said if we had been close, it would be bad-bad, but if we weren't then....eh. Why was she being cagey? She'd know if we had been or not. After a couple of awkward minutes - and me spinning around in circles after somehow getting turned around in a sea of Times Square tourists - she told me she didn't want to ruin my dinner and said to just call her afterwards.

I wasn't checking for another death by the time I got home - too tired, slightly buzzed and just happy to finally be home to wrap up what has been a pretty taxing week.

Social media yielded no clues when I got up this morning, so I went ahead and texted cuzzo to see what had happened. She told me that it hadn't really been put out there yet but a girl we grew up with had passed away from cancer yesterday. She knew damn well I wasn't close with the girl. She was well aware we had fallen out back in high school and had never spoken again. But while it wasn't immediate, I would eventually come to understand why cuzzo felt compelled to let me know.

"I started writing as a kid, keeping a diary about a boy I liked."

Looking at my thumbnail picture here, I hear the echo of those words in my head. She was the girl between me and that boy I liked. And I was the girl between them.

A juvenile love triangle has many a pubescent friendship ended, but she and I were never really friends. Frienemies, for sure. Tall, pretty, brown-skinned girls who both played sports and had the neighborhood boys split for attention, we were often compared. She thought she was above me though, so she hated it. Add guy and stir. Take the head cheerleader, captain of the football team and the intriguing new girl from any "been done" teen movie there's ever been and we all know how it ends.

I really didn't see her much after high school. I can recall seeing her 2 or 3 times at the club in my early 30's, but we didn't speak. There was one occasion I almost felt like we would - like we both wanted to just bury the hatchet - but it didn't happen. I don't feel any way about it. I mean, it seemed clear neither of us was harboring any energy still, but the fact of the matter was we didn't exist in each other's worlds and there was no version of this story where that would change just because we said hello to each other in the ladies room.

But hearing of her death - from cancer, no less - did hit me strangely. Not in an emotional way, but in a manner similar to how Kobe Bryant's death [initially] hit me. It was.... shock. There's just some people you never imagine dying, even if they're virtual strangers. You may never hear anything about them ever again, but you don't expect to hear they've died. At 43. From cancer. Someone who, for better or worse, was an integral part of the most impactful time of your young life. Those deaths hit harder, no matter how far removed you are, because all the players in your sacred sagas somehow belong to you.

Regardless of what, I'm sorry she had to die this way. I'm sorry her family had to lose her in this way. I'm sorry our story had to be written such that the only respectful way to pay my respects is from here.

Girl I grew up with, rest.

R.I.P. Kobe Bryant

I came online this afternoon to the news that Kobe Bryant has died in a helicopter crash. I actually felt myself stop breathing in the shock, like what the FUCK? This is one of those deaths that's just hard to believe. I had to read 6 articles from official news outlets before I'd accept it as truth. The shit is just unreal. Just one day after publicly congratulating LeBron James for having surpassed his 3rd highest of all time scoring record, this happens? CRAZY.

And now TMZ Sports is reporting that his 13-year old daughter Gianna was among the other 4 deceased in the wreck. I haven't seen any confirmation from any other outlets confirming ANY other identities, so I sincerely hope it's not true. Reckless reporters are also attempting to place former Laker Rick Fox aboard the helicopter, but thank God, all accounts I've come across seem to refute that.

I've never been a Lakers fan but I loved me some Kobe when he first got in the league. As the years went on, he lost me with all the antics, but one can never take away what he was. Dude KILLED the game, and he won a lot of my respect back post-retirement. Give the man a microphone and the floor and he'd have you believing you could do anything.

41 years old....SMH. 2020, please don't be that year.

R.I.P. #KobeBryant

Thoughts In The Elevator

Every morning for the past two months or so, I’ve waken up with a song in my head. I can’t say they’re random songs because most often it’s one on rotation via my T.I. station on Pandora (What can I say? That ratchet/trap shit gets me going in the morning LOL). I’m most thrown when it’s not – or when it’s one I haven’t heard ANY time recently – but that sometimes happens too. For the past 3 days, it’s been the same song: “I do,” by Cardi B. It’s not often a song runs it back 3 mornings in a row. Even if it skips a day and comes back around, it’s never 3 days straight, so now I’m wondering what I’m supposed to pull from that.

Should I smack a bitch cause I feel like it?

Do I need some Givenchy shoes?

I definitely don’t like niggas that been in and outta jail.

But I do, do what I like. 2020 might just want me to keep doing me. I'm allllll for it. Hey, it's been working out pretty well for me so far. 🤷‍♀️