Month: February 2007

In The Meantime

Do I live in some paralell universe?

I feel like I step out and take a giant leap into oblivion, only to land shakily, stunned, in the same spot I just leapt from.

How do I move forward?

Am I supposed to?

I woke up early one morning, got dressed and hopped into my car by 6am. I needed my baby Kanye so I slipped his CD into the player. It didn’t play.

It didn’t play.

It didn’t play.

Confused, I removed the CD and looked at it. My mouth dropped.

It was…BROKEN.

Someone must have broken into my car and broke it. Someone’s out to get me. They know that my Kanye CD is the only stable thing I have. It’s the only thing I can count on to be there with me anywhere I go.

I knew it was an omen. When I first received the CD I pledged to listen to it everyday until I make it big as a writer. And I used to listen to it 5 times a day when I was at the private school.

Something crazy is about to happen.

In the midst of trying to hold it together my body just quit on me and I’ve been in bed for the past two days. I’m letting down my current job and it seems as though that job may be the cause of my weakness.

I got another job offer this week. The job offer is one that would make anyone squeal. A nice cushy desk job. Benefits. It’s in a nice area. Ridiculous perks. But…it has nothing to do with my career and it comes with a 6 month contract.

I’ve started the process of applying for it and since I seem to be the only applicant, I’m trying to take it as a blessing from God but…I feel sad when I think about it because it’s going to take up so much of my energy that I think I’ll lose focus on my real goals. And it’s a 6 month contract. Once I’m in, I’m in. It’s the grown up thing to do. Wear a company shirt. Report to work. Sit in a office. Tap dance. I’m just afraid.

Tee, why are you doing this? This could be your blessing?

It’s just…office jobs make me sick to my stomache. I fear them because I have realized that no matter how well you do at your job, it’s the politics that reign. And I’m not good at office games. I always lose in the end.

JB once told me, “You’re obsessive.” It kind of hurt because that word isn’t associated with positivity. But then I realized that he is right. I am obsessive. About everything. I rarely let anything slide. What I mean is, if I do ANYTHING it has to be just right. If it’s not I will sit and talk and talk and talk and worry and beat myself up over it until someone tells me to shut up. I HATE to hurt anyone’s feelings or ignore people or allow my actions to make someone else feel bad about who they are.

When I was in 10th grade I was on the bus on the way to school a man got on and he had a ridiculous amount of warts on his face. He walked slowly row by row looking for a seat. When I saw him, I immediately told my friend Cameron to come and sit next to me. The look of dissappointment on his face still haunts me to this day and everytime I think about how I must have made him feel, I cry and repent. I ask God for forgiveness and I pray that God won’t repay me for my evil deed by making me get into an accident or something.

I try not to treat anyone badly because of the way they look or what they do for a living. It’s a concious effort to give unconditional love to others, and it’s sometimes a pain because I don’t get it in return.

I’m obsessive about success. It’s all I dream about and talk about. I’m obsessive about giving more than 100% in any relationship that I am involved in. I have a “I won’t give up” attitude even when my back is breaking from fighting their resistance and the other party is boldly screaming, “Leave me alone. I don’t want your love!” I guess it’s hard for me to take no for an answer especially when I know my love is the shit.

I think my body hurts so much because my soul is hurting. The intense loneliness I feel on a daily basis is physically debilitating. I must cry at least twice a day and now…with JB being too busy with his work (or someone else) to be my faithful friend, I find myself bursting into tears at least 3 times a day.

The biggest problem is, I don’t know what to do next. I don’t have any guidance. All of the business leaders that I have met are only out to help their vision come to fruition. They couldn’t care less about mine. That’s why one day I hope to have the chance to be the listening ear and to help another young bright person like myself accomplish their dream. No one seems to care about mine. At least no one in a position to offer me a hand up. So that’s why I vow to help someone, everyone, to figure out what they want out of life and equip them with the guidance to achieve it.

We must always give what we wish we were given. For me, it’s an encouraging word, guidance and unconditional love.

Kia’s cool. But I’ll admit I am a bit jealous of her because she has lots of friends and guy friends. She left late last night with a mischievous grin, after grabbing an overnight bag, leaving me all alone with her dog.

At least one of us is getting some. ~sigh~

My body aches all over. I’m scared to go to the doctor. My body isn’t behaving properly, irregular periods, mood swings; I feel fat too. I took a pregnancy test just to be on the safe side. No baby. I haven’t even had secks in almost two months.

All I can do is keep trying. In the meantime. I’m writing my heart out. Allowing this keyboard to be my bestfriend. I never get a response from the madness I feed it but at least it listens and will never leave me when it gets tired of my drama.

I want Mimi.

Man…I’m tired of running around in fucking circles.

Higher Expectations…

I miss Anna… She’s down in Orlando planning her wedding to a younger man. Tamara’s in Atlanta about to have her baby any minute and Dianna is in Miami taking care of her newborn, Zaria.

Marsha is being fabulous in Miami and Raycita is in Cali about to graduate from law school. Everyone is doing well.. And so am I.

Although things haven’t been going exactly as I planned them to, I must admit that EVERY SINGLE TIME I get stressed, a blessing comes. Whenever someone walks out of my life, a friend shows up and makes me feel better. Whenever I get down to my last dime, someone blesses me just in time.

How can a chick with such a small income pay all of her bills on time? Car note. Paid. Phone bill. Paid. And I get to eat. And I get to drive wherever I want to go. I’m not living in abundance but I always have just enough. It’s all God.

I try to remind myself of that when things don’t go my way. I’m a bit spoiled which isn’t always a good thing and I have a high expectation of my standard of living. Even now…with little options I expect nothing but top notch living…and I get it. I mean…why not? I’m a Superstar.

And tonight when my entire body is aching from the “flu” I’m thinking of calling someone to give me some attention. Kia says it’s time to start building my team. ~shrugs~ I don’t know.

I just want one person, in particular. But I can’t have him. That pisses me off… Isn’t that the way it always goes?

Let me go, my phone is ringing.

Am I the only one fucking up?

In the meantime… I have to suffer and go over and over in my mind about what I am not doing right. Every last one of my friends sit and listen to me and I plan and I tell them when I’m trying and what I’m doing and no one thinks I’m slacking. Hell.. I’m not. I feel like there’s a giant weight on my chest. Maybe I have to burp. I don’t know. It hurts, nonetheless.

Tell me the secret. Tell me the answer. Show me the guidelines to follow and I will. I just can’t figure this shit out. Everytime I am confronted with an opportunity I take it and try to run with it and that ball just..blows up. I beg for correction because I have such a heart to improve because I know if I was just given the chance to learn, I’d soak it ALL up. I am such a sponge. I just can’t figure this out.

I feel like a dandelion floating in the wind, hoping to take root and reproduce.

This is some fuck shit.

Maybe I have to learn to operate outside of my gift. Maybe I have to learn that lesson. But I do try. I try very hard at whatever job I have and it still doesn’t work out. But I’ve had some cool opportunities.

Imagine all of the places that I have worked. All the times I’ve failed. I know I may present this image of being all super confident and beautiful and charming. That’s a front. You know I’m nothing like that. That’s a show. Makeup to hide the insecurities. Charm to hide the fear.

I am in this city alone and I am fucking up. I have yet to get anything published. I have yet to even secure anything that would help me on my goal. I am fucking up royally. I am very disappointed with myself. My desires are split between affection and success. I keep fucking up.

And I dont know what the fuck to do about it. I want somebody to hold me. I want somebody nice. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know who to associate myself with. I can have the purest heart of all, and with my candor and openness, people won’t know how to take me. It’s like… I’m a handful because I just speak from my soul. I’m never mean or anything, well, maybe I can be… I’m just direct.

If I see a dude I like Id go up to him and say, “Hi, you look nice. I like your vibe. I wanted to see what’s up with you?”

People call that aggressive. It rarely happens but if I feel a man deserves it I will. People can’t take me for who I am. I don’t know how to fit in or if I will ever fit into this Houston culture. I dont even know how to break in.

You have no idea how afraid I am that I am going to pick the wrong crowd or mess with the wrong dude. So far no one has really, REALLY tried to holla. I’ve called a couple of guys but it was because they said they had contacts for me. But when I called they were like, “What are you doing this weekend?” That pissed me off.

God, I’m sorry if I’m doing wrong. I just don’t know what else to do. I’m just a little girl lost. You hear me God? I’m tired of fucking up. I just want to find my place. Where is it? Where will I be successful? I’m taking risks. I’m trying to learn and be better. I be fuckin up….

Cuz I’m human….

It hurts to be human….

My heart hurts so much. So much.

Testerosterone Withdrawal

I realize that I’m doing that whole “run away from Dudes” thing again.

It literally makes my heart ache when I think of having to interact socially with a man. I expect them to try to hurt me. Or even worse, to try to love me and then decide that they don’t want to love me anymore.

My first love did that. He built me up so grandly and really treated me like a queen. Then one day he just walked away from the throne and I spent years trying to figure out what I had done to fall from grace.

Now I realize; I ain’t do nothin. He was just dumb. I bet you if I let him come visit me he’d try to holla.

We women love to sit and analyze why men act up the way they do. Lemme tell you why.

First, men are spoiled. We give them anything they want, when they want it and they rarely are held to a higher standard so they can act how they want to act and we will still accept it because we are lonely and when you’re weak and lonely and don’t know your value, you will accept a whole bunch of BS.

Second, Most men are selfish. And most women too. Remember, we all operate at the center of our own distinct universe so while he chooses not to compromise his status as king and ruler of his universe, she may diminish her role as queen because her own universe doesn’t seem inviting. I guess my ideal situation would be to join forces with a king and expand our universe together.

Third, men are insecure. A good friend gave me this advice, “If a man tells you that he is not good enough for you…believe him.” I’ve encountered this problem on many occasions. I would meet a man who would tell me how much he’s crazy about me…but he thinks I should be with someone else. “Someone is going to make you so happy one day.” “I know you want and deserve more than I could ever give you.”

Those kind of statements were all so wild to me. The thing is, they may think that you are so great that they look at their lives and their accomplishments and they don’t feel like they are ready to be the man you will respect and follow for the rest of your lives. They want to come to the plate with something, and even though you may be the right person, their pride won’t allow them to stand beside you until they can prove their worth to you. Funny how..most often…you don’t need all that. But still…that’s why it ends.

Don’t always think it’s you.

Men are human too. Men have issues too.

Men are coo coo.

But oh so neccessary.

~going through withdrawal~

The Inner Mind

I guess you can probably tell I didn’t sleep much last night. So much negativity. So few options. So many hopes. So little evidence. So much hurt. Stagnant faith.

I’m aiight.

Again, I woke up with a body ache. Called over to the restaurant and left a message. I sat in bed for a few hours and then I was so hungry that I had to get up. I ate a bowl of taco soup that Kia made and she must have put the key to life in that pot because after eating that soup, I felt so much better. That soup had beans in it and I don’t usually like beans (or vegetables) but those beans tasted like MEAT. They were so good! And she made a side salad of spinach leaves and grilled chicken. Oh my gosh! I felt like I had some energy. My ankles were still sore but I felt like I would survive. I drank some orange juice and ate some cornbread too. Then ofcourse…I went back to sleep. Until 6pm. Just in time to wake up and sit down to watch Friday on TV.

“What are you doing?” Kia asked me.

“Sitting down. About to watch Friday.”

“What about church?”

“Oh yeah.”

I got up, got dressed and finally went to Joel Osteen’s church. That sanctuary looks like the set of the Grammy’s or something. It’s wild. The greeters and ushers actually shake your hand instead of simply smiling at you. That made me feel weird. The church members do not seem pretentious AT ALL. Everyone seemed to be there to spend quality time with their family, being encouraged in the Lord.

They did their praise and worship and I laughed, remembering how foreign The Rock of Gaines.ville was to me when I was back in college. It was my first time attending the church of a white pastor with their more, um, can’t think of a word, let’s just say…different worship style than those of traditional black churches.

When Joel took the podium I smiled, remembering all of the times I would pass by his church on TV and I’d always have to turn back because he was always dropping knowledge. His smile was the same. His charisma was the same. His Word was simple and encouraging. Very easy to swallow.

After meeting Kia’s friend Monique and calling them gay because they are very affectionate with each other, Kia and I sped home to eat more soup and watch a movie that simply spoke to my inner being, MILLIONS.

I want my sons to see this movie because it has a very important story line, the cinematography is excellent. It’s quite a brilliant film. My heart ached for the younger boy who longed to “be good”. It’s like an urgency to “Do Good Now” before it’s too late. That’s how I feel. Half the time. The other half of the time I’m analyzing things I’ve said or did to try to figure out why I haven’t attained my goals yet.

Most times I am lost in space. I may be one of those weird people (and I say this with a cheerful heart) who everyone kind of excuses because you know they are in their own little world. Yeah…that’s me. But that’s okay. I’m just trying to find a way to give to this world. I want to be used to help improve lives. Yeah…I know, I have to improve mine first. I’m working on it.

Man…this morning I got an early call from Kenya. She’s my friend in New York, in Brooklyn.
The day my Kanye West Cd was found murdered, I texted her and let her know that it was an omen. She texted me back basically laughing at me but I didn’t care. This morning she asked in an excited tone, “Did you get my message?!”

“What message?”

“About Kanye.”

I raised my eyebrow. Please let him be okay.

“What about Kanye?”

“Girl! That morning you texted me about your Kanye CD breaking being an omen…you won’t believe what happened.”

“What happened?”

“I was in the book store that same night and Dave Chapelle was having a book signing and I felt all of these people pushing and pushing and when I turned around, girl, it was Kanye West.”

I screamed.

“For real girl. I was trying to talk to him and tell him about you and try to get his contact information.”

I screamed.

“At least get his autograph.”

I laughed. She is crazy.

See I feel like a Kanye West fan, but maybe I’m more of a Stan because I feel like my creativity is on the same level as his, just not the same type of art. We’re both communicators. We both love God and are brave enough to be ourselves even though people talk so much crap about us. That’s why I love him. He don’t care. He still acts goofy when he wants to, stunts when he wants to and creates when he wants to. Talk about someone living in their own universe. He thinks he’s invincible. I like that. Me too.

Kenya and I continued to chat. I sat there with the phone to my ear, amazed. How could the burden on our hearts and the questions buzzing in our minds be the same thing? I’m not alone in the fact that I’m a creative wonder with more spirit than common sense.

My world exists as an alternate universe to yours, although they may be subsets of each other, my world is distinct. I travel in a ball of brilliant light and color. That’s why I seem to float. That’s why I seem to shine. Look at the light behind India.Arie. You feel that light? You see that energy?

While I’m not all religious anymore I do believe in spirits. Yes, spirits in the “my house is haunted” type of way but that’s not what I focus on. When I say spirit I mean the essence of a person. The light that shines behind their eyes.

If you look closely that light has a color. Sometimes it’s green. Sometimes its yellow. When I look into a person’s eyes and shake their hand and feel their energy I can sometimes tell when things are not right. I feel this charge and my heart aches. When it’s a positive charge I feel peace.

I’m not saying that everyone is stamped positive or negative. I’m just saying the condition of their heart at the moment, is displayed to me when I meet them. I realize that all smiles are not sincere and some handshakes are manufactured.

Most eyes are hopeful though. They look into your eyes and their eyes are searching for a connection. Will you love me? Will you validate my presence with your love? Will we be friends?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

My eyes say YES, every single time.

If you need me I will be your friend. I’m not an easy person to be friends with because I’m spoiled and stubborn and posessive but…other than that, I’m fun to be around. That is…when I’m not pushing you to want more and be more.

This post is getting long because I’m lonely. You must be lonely too if you’ve read this far especially when I’m not talking about anything. I have been learning so many life lessons. I see my growth. It’s crazy. I just think about my boys. They love me. I love them. I don’t want them to lose hope in me. I feel like I’m letting them down. You should have seen them. Their lights shine so brightly! I don’t want to be the reason why they hate or mistrust women.

I don’t want who I am, to affect them in a negative way. You feel me? As parents, we have to be aware of how our personalities shape our children. I’m a bit uptight and my boys are too. When I think about my biological father I cringe because he has so many qualities that I find embarrassing and unfit for a grown man, especially one who can claim to be MY father. The worst part is, the worst part of me, all of those things that I find so ughhhh about myself- well, he has those qualities too. I seemed to get the worst of him.

I appreciate it Mr. Tate.

Oh God, here I am back around to the “Men ain’t never do right by me” speech. That’s getting old as hell. I know I scare the hell out of these Dudes. I’m too intense for the average man.

Anyway…I think I’m tired now. It’s just after midnight and I am so happy to have gotten a few days of real rest. With the exception of Kia wrinkling her nose up at me as I spit and cough, I’ve enjoyed having her around while I’ve been sick.

I can’t let my boys down. They will be proud of their Mama. I just have to figure out which talent I will use first. Something has to break.

What did Joel Osteen encourage us about tonight? Oh yeah… Divine connections. He said there’s no need to force things to happen, God has a Barbarus connection already destined and all you have to do is keep focused on Him.

See? That was very nice and sweet.

I like Joel Osteen.

A True Superstar

Did this voluptuous beauty just win an Oscar? Wow. Tell me something. Who else in history just burst onto the scene and sweep awards shows with their FIRST MOVIE? I feel so bad writing about this because I have yet to see Dreamgirls so I can’t marvel at her performance like most of the country has but I am so excited to see it.

When I read this chick’s story it’s almost amazing how inspirational it is. Ofcourse winning is the ultimate goal for any driven person but to WIN IT ALL YOUR FIRST TIME OUT THE GATE is phenomenal!

Where do you go from here, Jennifer?

You’ve set a high mark for yourself and the multi-multi million dollar price tag you’ve earned yourself for whatever movie you star in next is going to set you up for life. I can’t wait to see what the story line will be.

Sometimes all you need is ONE CHANCE to show what you can do. She was poised and waiting. She knew her potential was limitless. She dared to take a chance and look what happened.

What would happen if you took a chance?

Dare to be different.

Most world changers are…

Going Somewhere

Ahh…

I’m so glad I have God in my life.

I truly know that He is with me. Not just because I want Him to be with me, but because He is taking me somewhere. I feel like he is holding me by my hand and walking with me to a special place. He’s helping me jump over hurdles, resist making too many wrong turns and protecting me along the way.

I think I’m going to go back to Joel Osteen’s church. Ever since I went I couldn’t stop thinking about how freeing it was to sit under some good WORD. It reminded me of a peaceful place. Honestly, my most peaceful times were when I was serving the Lord with all of my heart everyday. I remember a feeling of consistent jubilation. There was an excitement for God and I was truly in love with Him. I’d wake up in the morning thinking about him. Calling on His name. Praying to Him. Thanking Him for another day. It was such a blissful feeling to know that I was loved and selected and gifted for a purpose.

But I don’t want to be stifled by the church so I’m going to remain a visitor for a long time. Church is a choice. No one in this country is forced to go so I’m going to go when I WANT to go and not make a ritual out of it. I’m not really interested in religious practices. For me, right now, a little church and my consistent communication with God is enough.

Have you ever been in that place where you were trying to figure out what you believe? Have you ever even questioned what your Mama or your Pastor told you? Have you ever saught the truth for YOURSELF? Have you ever asked God to reveal Himself to you on a personal level, superceding all of the different religions?

I’m not trying to reject anyone’s religion. I believe religion is important because it teaches you to develop a habit of giving honor to your God. That’s cool. I just think…I want something special with God. Something even deeper than I could experience with any man, more magnificent than the relationships I have with my friends and as joyful as the love I have for my sons.

I want Him to spin me around in His arms in a lush green field of grass. I want Him to whisper in my ear, “Go left, Tee. Go Left.” I want Him to sleep with me every night, teaching me, encouraging me, loving me.

I am so grateful to Him. And look at how I have been dishonoring Him by giving my devotion to men who didn’t give a damn about me when He was right there trying to love me. I’m moving my hands so quickly trying to give God something to work with, that He just paused and looked at me like, “What you think you’re doing?”

I want to focus completely on you. Thank you for giving me discernment, even though I don’t act on it every single time. Thank you for sending your angels to guard me in my zealousness to do your work.

I’m a grown woman now and I want a grown woman relationship with you. Let’s talk. You and me. Let me share my heart with you. Understand my mind. Look me in my eyes, God, and see how deeply I want to do good work for you. I’ve been bopping around and putting my hands in everything and doing a damn good job I might add, (except for those press releases) but I’m ready for a real mission. I can handle it. Give me something to do that will showcase what you’ve given me.

My objective is to be able to take care of my sons with an income that is generated solely by my own efforts with my talents. I’ll never stop trying. I just need a vehicle. I just need a chance to write something. A chance to organize something. A chance to speak. I just want to do well. I don’t like to sit by with my hands tied.

Teach me how to fish.

Addicted To Love

I’ve been lying to ya’ll.

I haven’t been telling the truth about the biggest pain coursing through my entire body.

Man…I am really…gone…gone off this dude. My heart is hurting.

HURTING!

HURTING!

It’s been 8 days since I heard JB’s voice. Not counting the hundred times I played his last voicemessage. Talk about ATTACHED. DAMN!!!

Now I see what he was saying when he would say, “We’re getting too attached. This is not good.” But I didn’t care because I loved talking to him. Imagine that…

Every morning we’d text message. Maybe once during the day. Immediately after work, we’d call each other. And then…just before bed. And since we’re both writers we would silently compete to see who could write the best text message greetings. It was fun! He was soo sweet.

And now…nothing.

I didn’t want to seem like a punk. I didn’t want to admit that I invested in this emotionally and I had no clue it was this deep.

I feel like someone snatched my skin off with their bare hands took out a BIG nail file and started filing away at my undermeat. I think I want to throw up. I never, ever, ever want to experience this feeling again. My heart ~gasp~ aches so much. I hurt. Sleep. Hurt. Sleep. Hurt. I went to the doctor today, don’t let me talk about them trying to sell me some drugs on the side.

YEAH! They are so dumb. Come on… how are you gonna tell me, “It kinda looks like something but the results aren’t back yet do you want to start the medicine anyway?”

HELL NO!

Pushers!

Damn! Back up off me, man.. Show me some positive signs on a paper with a lab seal on it. I’m not just buying your drugs. Do I look like a simp to you? You lucky I can pay for this visit. Trying to throw some extra drugs off on me.

They did that crap to me in college. They had me on a STD scare. I went and told my boyfriend and I was taking pills and all that. Then they gonna call me talkin bout, “The results are negative. Sorry.” “What the hell am I taking these pills for then? My man is looking at me sideways and Ya’ll just made some money!”

Ya’ll on commission?

Hell naw… “Don’t write an expensive prescription for cough medicine for my son when the store has the same thing for way less! I know what you doin!”

Pushers…

See…

I can go on and handle my daily business but at the end of the day, my throat closes in because I have not heard from him. I will not dial his number either because I don’t think it’s my place. He drives me absolutely crazy. I need Jesus to help with this one. JB was my crutch. I will get over this though. One day at a time.

I think he put a spell on me.

Help.

Sincerely,

Ms. Addicted To Love

I can’t post this, it’s too personal.

Oops.

A Few Words With My Baby

I spoke with my baby tonight.

“Hey Mama,” he said quietly into the phone.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m doing my homework. “

“Good job Sugarbear.”

“I’m writing sentences.”

“SENTENCES!” I squealed. “Oh my gosh baby thats great!”

He wasn’t enthused. “Tomorrow I have to write a paragraph,” he said sadly.

“A PARAGRAPH!” I screamed. “Oh yeah! Baby that’s great! A whole paragraph! Aww man! Soon it’s gonna be on! First you’ll get the sentences down, then you’ll get the paragraphs down cuz you’re so smart I know you’re gonna catch on quickly. Then after that you can tell a story and we can even turn it into a book. You can illustrate. We can mass produce it!”

My Sugarbear was silent. “What about if I don’t want to be a, what are you again?”

I frowned. “I’m a journalist baby.”

“What if I don’t want to be a journalist?”

“Then it’s okay. Each of us has a special gift from God and in time you’ll see what God made you for. He will tell you.”

“Mama, how are you able to be a journalist and still work at the bar?”

“Who told you I worked at a bar?”

“You said it.”

“No, I said I worked at a restaurant. A RESTAURANT, boy.”

“Oh. Well how can you do both?”

“Well, when you have a day off you have to go, try to get the interview and write the story because on the other days you are really tired from work.”

“Does it pay a lot?”

“No. Not unless you make it big.”

“Can you help me make a sentence Mama? The word is agriculture.”

“Sure baby. Where’s your brother?”

“He’s sleeping,” My 6 year old says.

Oh, he isn’t feeling well. Let me talk to your Daddy.”

Baby Daddy comes to the phone.

“Yeah.” he says in a “what do you want” tone.

“How’s my baby? Did he throw up today?”

“No.”

“Did he go to school?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna give him love?”

“Huh?”

“My baby is sick. Are you going to give him hugs and kisses and cuddle with him and rub his tummy?”

Silence.

He chuckles. “Uh no. The best he’s going to get is a night’s sleep in the bed with me.”

“Awwww….” I say. “I guess that will work.” He’s such a MAN…

My baby is sick! He needs me. But I’m here…in Houston.

Floating…

I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It’s breaking me. But where do I go? Where’s home? I’ll be in the same situation just with a more expensive cost of living.

Think. Think. Think.

What can you do that will allow you to take care of your boys and to NOT be stifled in the workplace?

What could you do that would have longevity and provide stability?

I don’t have any answers…

Out Damn Spot

I write stories all day in my head.

Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the moment, just to write about it later. Everything is a story to me. When I’m in the moment, my mind is trained to look for details to remember to write about later.

I remember smells, tiny knick knacks, people’s facial expressions, colors of clothing, all because I know the details make the story better. It’s not just a habit, it’s a lifestyle for me. It drives me. Sometimes it feels like a burden.

It kind of rules my life because rarely am I just chillin and enjoying myself. Even when I’m involved in pleasurable activities, I’m memorizing every moment to replay and record again later. I have a very good memory involving stories. I don’t remember random facts. I’d never be good on Jeopardy, but if it’s an experience, I can sit back, inhale and relive it at my convenience.

Sometimes I can write a whole story about something that happened and just…erase it. I don’t need it. It’s etched in my brain. I can always write it again and I can ENJOY writing it all again from memory.

Even with the great ideas that I come up with. I don’t give a damn. I can give them away. I have plenty more where those came from. PLUS- If it’s MY idea, no one could ever do it the way that I could do it, so you can try if you want to and it could be good but it won’t ever have the Ms. Tee touch. The touch of love and devotion that is personally crafted by my hands and revitalized by my heart. That’s why I want to be some sort of counsel to people who have heart but just don’t have direction. I can help build upon your idea. I love to sit and write down plans. I don’t know what to do with all of this.

When I’m really happy or proud of myself, I reward myself by writing. When I’m heavy hearted and emotional, I relieve myself by writing. I write everything. Sometimes I sit and make up songs. I’ve written children’s books. Two, for my babies. I’ve written raps. LOL! I really have… Sometimes I’ll just come up with alternate catch phrases for different products or magazines. I’m very critical of bad story tellers who are published because that annoys me. I love to be impressed by a writer. But sometimes, even when their language and style is excellent, you can tell there’s no heart behind it.

I love GQ magazine. I love Playboy. Ofcourse I love Essence too. O has good writers and Readers Digest will ALWAYS be a source of a good hour’s fun when I have the time. The one thing that frustrates me is that magazine covers seem to cover the same topics over and over again. It’s a formula. They teach it to us in school.

There’s always gonna be a number. 69 ways to please your man

There’s gonna be some reference to sex in one of the coverlines

At least 3 fonts and three colors.

There will always be a directive. CHANGE THIS NOW!

Covers are supposed to promise you something life changing or intriguing is locked inside. Only $3.95 to unlock the magic.

I love the whole graphic part of designing a magazine. If I had some time and money I’d go back and learn that too. It’s funny how graphics and text are so reliant on each other but very rarely will you find a person who is talented in both areas.

To me it’s fun to sit down at the computer with a blank screen and then fill it with good quotes. Then I just visualize how I want the story to flow. I put the quotes in that order on the screen. Then I think of the most fantastic part of the story or the most interesting characteristic of that person I’m writing about, and I come up with a creative way to illustrate it. It’ll be either with a visual explanation or a narrative example of the interesting point, or it will be a guessing game where I make the point mysterious just to lead in with the answer in the next paragraph in a way that pulls the reader in.

Then I connect the quotes with my own narrative, always making sure to keep “I” out of the story. I don’t know why but I’m not really fond of that when I read an interview. It makes me feel like the writer is trying to co star in the story. Especially when their presence did not add to the spice of the story.

I love magazines. I read them bitches from cover to cover.

I feel satisfied when I’m done.

I’m watching the Logo channel. They have some good videos on this channel. Like this one…

It reminds me of my friend Ruby. I miss ya girl!

Well…duty calls. Let me go handle some more business.

Pray for a sista because I am in the hot seat!