Last Year’s Wish List

Dang.. it is sooo not December 1st already is it?

Wow. What a year!

My kids are already talking about what they want for Christmas… Boys..let me get thru this week first, okay? ~smile~

Last year I wrote a wish list for 2008. I’ll repost it here. The things that actually happened are highlighted in red.

1. I’d like to become even more spiritually aware.
2. Manifest beautiful events and surprises on a regular basis.
3. Write and sell e-books.
4. Visit my friends; Anna in Orlando, Kenya in Brooklyn, Kim in Chicago, Tamara in Atlanta
5. Go on my first cruise
6. Take my sons on their first airplane trip
7. Upgrade my career from freelance writer to magazine editor
8. Get my passport
9. Gain more life coaching clients and celebrate their success
10. Secure and maintain my own home for myself and my sons
11. Bless my parents financially
12. Develop more methods to help people accomplish their dreams, love themselves and have better relationships.
13. Write a prize-winning feature story
14. Win a big prize in a contest
15. Love myself more and more each day
16. Get my teeth fixed
17. Completely revamp my wardrobe
18. Experience a miracle that will have me crying with happiness
19. Have a wonderful celebration for my birthday
20. Gain a mentor

I think I had a productive year. I’ll have to think about my hopes for next year when the close of the year comes around… 30 more days to make your wishes come true this year! Try…you never know.

Intangible Gifts

Instead of working on my final projects which include a odd fable called The Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant that I have to somehow present some kind of lesson for in my Personality Theories class on Wednesday, I’ve spent the last 6 hours researching authors like Alice Munro, Alice Walker and my old journalism professor Dr. McKeen. I once sent an anonymous candy gram to him which professed my love for the way he read passages aloud in his History of Journalism class- wonder if he ever found out it was me…

I have a heaviness on my heart as I read their biographies, rich with titles and accomplishments, awards and various letters behind their names. I want some of that too.

Yeah, I know I’m only 29 and they’re all like…50 or 60 something but still…I wish I could be like them. No, I don’t want to imitate them, I just need to find a way to allow the brilliance in me to shine like they have.

I’m conflicted. It’s a fight deep inside me that rips me apart. I have the role of a mother to play, while at the same time yearning for the freedom and irresponsibility to society that the typical artist enjoys. I want to be ME, yet I want to be a good Mom too. Are both roles mutually exclusive?

I don’t know man…I know I look like this young Black chick from the hood with no “couth” and no one to stand beside me or guide me but in my heart I know I’m a writer, a brilliant creative writer with so much to say and a BIG LOUD voice that isn’t bound by one particular medium of expression.

I can do it all..write, act, speak, teach, encourage, listen, yet I am so impatient while I envision the day when I can sit on the back porch sipping on an orange soda, black n mild in hand feeling the breeze and just…let the genius out.

I want to write about Black women. I want to write about the search for identity. I want to write about the hunger for love masked by a deep desperation for self acceptance. I want to do research and publish findings. I want to create curriculum to be taught in schools that will change lives. I want to publish poetry, do spoken word albums, host a show, produce and write plays, act in movies, be an activist, change minds.

I want so much…So much for one little body to bear…maybe even in one lifetime.

While all of these hopes and goals leap into my mind consistently, causing me so much unrest because I KNOW I can be great at all of them, I’m still chugging away creating a foundation for myself and my literary hopes. I’m not just trying to entertain man. I don’t want my body of work to be easily dismissed once I am gone. I’m not using my gift to make your brain rot away. I want you to take me with you wherever you go. I want you to remember my words and shift your thinking. I want to leave you with a gift that follows you beyond the grave.

No making fancy t-shirts or hats, toys or teaching you how to keep up with the latest trends..naw man. I’m trying to give you the gas to get to where you want to be-spiritually and mentally.

The gift I’m giving is wisdom and encouragement and you can’t sell that on ebay.

Pissed To High Hell

Hmm.. I’ve calmed down now but let me tell you…today I was livid.

I went on campus to chat with my professor and I saw that our department’s honor society magazine had been published. You know I sent in an article about the night I figured out what we do as therapists, so I flipped through the book to find my name. When I saw it, on the last page, I almost fell the hell out.

That bitch of an editor EDITED the shit out of my piece! FUCK HIM! That shit did not sound like I wrote it at all. It sounded like some wack ass English student wrote it. He peppered it with phrases like, “I feel that…”


I don’t write like that! My name is on that bullshit! If he didn’t like it, he could have just told me to fuck off, not change my shit into some bullshit!

Oh my gosh! I’m getting angry all over again.
Here’s my point…

When I produce something for publication, due to my extremely high goals for my literary career, I am very careful with how I word things and the tone that I use. Even though this blog couldn’t be considered professional work, I still realize that everything I write here in a free-writing format, will one day be studied and possibly criticized. I don’t mind that…but I DO mind when my shit gets published and it doesn’t sound a thing like me!

I was so upset that it absolutely ruined my day. I allowed it to, I know. But fuck!

As a former editor, I know that when you make the first edit- you don’t. You should send it back to the writer and ask them to make the first edit, especially if it includes cutting parts out. Then you can polish their style, but only if they trust you.

I hope no one ever finds that raggedy ass piece of shit of an article. It’s an embarrassment and doesn’t deserve to have my name on it.

This school had better watch the fuck out- I’m not doing this for credit or clout in the school. I’m trying to build a body of work that is outstanding. I’m not with playing with this…

Dear Kanye

Look..I’m supposed to be working on my final presentation for my personality theories class but someone sent a tweet about one of your songs, The Coldest Winter Ever, and I looked it up on youtube.

Kanye, it made me cry.

I understand why you did this album. You have to give a voice to where you are in life and maybe when you were writing this you were going through turmoil. Since our work is created as a reflection of our emotional state it was only natural for you to produce such a heart wrenching album. You used the voice distorting thing because your emotions are distorted, I get that. I feel you.

I’m sorry you went through all of this. I’m even more sorry that I can’t be a part of your healing process. Just think about it, you are experiencing this heartache now, the pain will end…AND you will receive the love you desire and require. You’ll appreciate it more too.

For a long, LONG time I’ve been blogging, writing articles, talking, joking and sometimes dreaming about one day meeting you. I know, you probably think I’m some crazed fan and I probably am, but I wouldn’t hurt you Kanye. Not in a ‘misery’ kind of way, not at all.~smile~

I can’t even say everything I want to say here because for the first time in a long time I am embarrassed. How can you love someone you’ve never met? How can you judge every man by the standards set by a man who doesn’t even know you exist? Foolish maybe but..I can’t stop.

Maybe we’ll never meet or date or have wild and crazy secks on the balcony of some lavish hotel suite…but I want you to know that it’s your spirit that really attracts me to you. I see me in you. I see you in me. I’m so glad I got a chance to tell your Mom how I felt about you. That interview was the highlight of my journalism career so far.

I would like to meet you. I would like to counsel you and support you. I would like to be your muse, challenge you and be your friend. You have accomplished so much Kanye but really, you have far more potential than you realize. Your music career is just one of the mediums that I see you using to reach people with your message of self acceptance, tolerance and FREEDOM.

I feel like such a dork, a STAN and whatever other clever names are out there for people who adore the genius in others and proudly show appreciation. I am. I always will.

You’re bigger than my crush on Joe from The New Kids On The Block. You’re more than just a masterbation fantasy like Mos Def. You’re kind of my hero in a way because everytime I see you “doing you” I feel better about doing me. I’d like for us to “do life” together. Whenever you can, hit me up. I’m in Miami and I’ll gladly take a brief break from my grind to catch you up on my life and breathe some fiery inspiration into yours.
I’ll help you write another Grammy winner…this time it’ll be about being inside the thundering eyes of true love.


Ms. Tee

So I’m Smart?

I just finished my presentations and final papers for both of my classes. All I have is a final exam next week- the killer one because I am not good at exams that require memorization.

As soon as it was my turn to present I felt all kind of butterflies in my stomache but you couldn’t tell when I spoke. When I’m presenting, I tune out everyone in the room and become one with the information that I am giving.

I screamed, cried, spoke, preached and gave my heart in this examination of the progression of the pysche of Blacks in America as compared to the Fable of the Dragon-Tyrant. When I was done I looked up from my power point presentation and the entire room of counseling students just…stared at me.

Any questions?


Did you all understand where I was going with this?

~head nods all across the room~

Ok. I guess I’ll sit down now.

~feeble applause~

Even my professor didn’t know what to say. He fumbled through a few misguided paragraphs and then gave up.

I didn’t know what to think.

After class two women came up to me to tell me that my presentation was powerful and explosive. They explained to me that even if they had questions, they were not confident in their ability to question me. They said..and I’m even joking…that my thought process is often way above their heads and they can not keep up with me.

Who me?

“Yes girl. This class is often above my head,” one classmate admitted. “Most of the time I’m completely lost but you- you just go way above and beyond. Think about it, if you have Dr. G speechless then you KNOW you’ve got to be good.”

Me? Is she serious? I mean…I love this class because we discuss great ideas and thought processes. It isn’t difficult at all.. You mean to tell me that this class…in this class…I’m one of the smart ones?

So I’m smart? Naw..ME?

I’m creative I know..but smart like those SMART people? Like Yolanda? Me?


Steady Pretending

Ahh…Feels so good to write without pressure. I don’t see how those other bloggers only blog for money or for popularity. There’s something magical about writing just because…

Today was so crazy. At about 11pm last night I straight fell out feeling dizzy and I couldn’t move. It lasted for about 20 minutes I guess. When it was done I sat up, dialed my little sister’s number and chatted with her for 2 hours about these videos that she watches on youtube to help her grow her hair. I posted the link to the videos on my facebook so check them out if you’re my friend.

Ofcourse I didn’t sleep at all last night. I spend the rest of the morning hours editing my Dragon Slayer presentation. I’m trying to turn it into a commentary to be published in a newspaper so that I can submit it for a big award. Last time I had that genius idea I submitted it and I actually won so I’m not afraid to do it again. I could sure use that prize money.

Tamara called me early this morning to chat about her man D. “Oh Tee. He does everything he can to make sure I’m happy. Even things I would never do, he does. He does it just because that’s how he is.”

I’m trying to figure out how the hell God could make such a fine ass man and have him be SWEET and generous and LOVING all at the same time? And then this dude is in love with TAMARA? Let me stop..honestly, that is what my girl deserves, it’s just compared to all of her last boyfriends, this man seems like a dream come true. I still don’t really like him…but for HER, I think he’s perfect. Tamara and I are on the phone in the early morning and I check my email and my eyes almost tear up when I see a note from…Shay. ~SMILE~

When I first started highschool, they paired the freshmen up with Seniors who were supposed to be our big sisters and help us out at the school. The girl they gave me, I don’t even remember her name, umm..well, let’s say…I switched and I got SHAY! Shay was soo cool! She never wore the same outfit twice and she was just..laid back and chill wit’ it. We would have lunch together. She took me to her house to meet her family. If I had actually HAD a big sister, I would have wanted her to be just like Shay.

Shay still looks great. She lives in DC. I can’t wait to hear all about what’s going on in her life. She’s natural like me too! I really missed her all of this time too. If I had to put together a team of bad bitches in my life..she’d be on the roster. I remember she used to tell me, “Donovan Daniels is NOT all that.” LOL! She was right.

I know I am a ball of emotions mixed with this bad ass chick who acts like the entire world should recognize my brilliance..but…I’m mostly soft. A soft hearted chick. I love to be loved. I love my sons. I love my friends. I appreciate the people who are good to me and I love to show them love back.

Last night my sister spent like a half hour on the phone with me joking about Kanye West. I appreciate that. I know I don’t have any REAL guy to talk about that I like, or any real guy to talk about that likes me so even though it’s foolish and I feel kind of embarrassed when they do it, I love it when my sister and my friends pretend with me that I’m actually gonna meet and be with Kanye.

Tamara’s like, “Tee. He went to highschool just like everyone else. It’s not like it’s impossible. Somebody has to love him one day. Might as well be you.”

I can tell that it annoys Ruby but she’ll play along sometimes. “Ok, girl, you gotta get your line together. What are you gonna say when you see him? You have to say something that makes a lasting impression.”

“I figured that I’d probably faint.”

“Uh..No. You can’t do that. We’ll come up with something. How about you walk up to him and hand him your business card. Since he has issues, you can say, ‘I’m a therapist, Confidential.’ and walk away.” LOL!

My sister is like, “Ok, What if Kanye finds your blog or your twitter and then he sees that you work at Denny’s. And then he finds out which Denny’s you work at. And then he comes in singing, Here I am, like Rick Ross?”

I’m cracking up!

“NO,” she continued. “What if he comes into Denny’s and there’s a crowd around him and all you see is this frohawk. You won’t rush to see if it’s him because you’re not a groupie. You’ll be like Diamond in the Players Club when Luke came in. You’re gonna be with your regulars.”

I’m dieing laughing!

And I’m kinda sad at the same time…

Kim and her fiance picked up their marriage license today. They plan to have a small ceremony before the year is out. Tamara is gooey ooey in love with D. Ruby is packing up and moving to Denver after the new year to be with her man. My sister is finally FREE and completely crazy over this fine ass man who I would think wouldn’t even approach me cuz he’s too fine. My BBDD is having a baby with his girl.

All of this real love..and I’m over here looking a photoshopped picture and pretending…

I’m beginning to make my own self sick.

Well, at least I’m not married and unhappy.

Sexy Ass Smart Boy!

Look at this sexy ass man…Damn. That’s Aaron McGruder. Are you getting a good idea of the type of men I like?KanyeThe PrezAaron McGruderMost DefEach one of them could get it. Maybe all at the same time. Whew! That would be SPECIAL! LOL!

Bored By Radio In Miami

Ok. I’m officially tired of Miami radio. If I’m in my car in the morning I have to listen to the radio to dance and laugh. A few months back the BEST morning show here was hosted by Supa Cindy and Big Lip Bandit on WEDR 99Jamz but that show was canceled in favor of the syndication of Ricky Smiley’s show.

No more Supa Cindy. No more Dr. KeKe. I was heartbroken.

So now what do we have- Ricky Smiley and Deez Nuts… Um. Who told him he was funny? Who is he anyway? And what are the alternatives…Tom Joyner on Hot 105. Well, if I want to learn something and be educated then I’ll listen to him. But usually in the morning I just want to shake my ass in the car while I’m driving, so he gets no play. I don’t think he really wants us as an audience anyway. His show doesn’t speak to the younger generation at all.

So then I could switch to Steve Harvey on 103.5 The Beat, but I can’t because even BEFORE he got his radio show, I couldn’t stand the sound of his voice. So..that leaves our only LOCAL morning host on Power 96, DJ Laz. It’s the Spanish station but they play a lot of booty music and I love the female host’s voice. Right now, that’s my radio station of choice.

Tell me why all of the nationally syndicated radio hosts are men? Where are the ladies? Why aren’t we representing? In a way I wish I could do something that didn’t have to do with relationships because that is so….girly, but I can’t help what I’m into.

I think I’m frustrated because I miss Supa Cindy and there’s nothing I can do about any of it. I just turn the radio off.

Santa’s Enchanted Forrest

Do you ride the rollercoaster with your eyes closed?

After tonight I realized that I do. But what’s the point of having the experience if you’re not really gonna experience it?

Last night I can’t believe it, I slep through the ENTIRE night. Tamara says it was because my boys were with me and it’s easier to sleep when you have someone with you. She must be right because on the regular night when I’m alone, I don’t fall asleep until around 7am.

During my night of beautiful rest, I must have woken up to a gentle urging. The urging whispered, “Forget about going to Orlando. Stay in Miami and use the $100 you have for the trip to take your boys out for some fun.”

It sounded like a good idea to me so when my boys first squinted their little eyes the next morning I said, “Goodmorning Boo Boo’s!”

“Goodmorning Mama.”

“Guess what? I have an idea. How about we forget the plan to go to Orlando today and just use the money to have some fun? We can go to dinner at the buffet we found a few weeks ago and then go to ~singing~ Santa’s Enchanted Forrest!”

My boys both looked at each other as I continued singing the theme song to Miami’s Christmas themed amusement park and they soon began singing with me.

By the time I picked them up for school they were grinning. “Are we still going?” my older son asked.

“Yeah!” I replied and we all rode up Biscayne Boulevard to the buffet while singing Santa’s Enchanted Forrest!

I can’t even describe how much fun we had. We rode ride after ride and they weren’t even afraid. We went inside the crazy houses, rode the Crazy Mouse, and even saw the Spider Lady which my sons couldn’t understand when I explained it was an optical illusion. They still say it had to be real. Hey, if you want to believe that, go ahead.

We munched on an Elephant Ear, (“Mama, is that made from a real elephant?”) sipped on Slushees and even took a picture with Santa. We also stopped by the Santa Center to write Santa a letter and put it in the mailbox. The crowd was nice and everyone was out with their families. It’s a great family place or place for teens to go on a date. I’ve gone on several dates there when I was little, once with my old boy toy Carlos, another with my ex Mike and even once with my Baby Daddy when we were still in love.

But THIS time, I created a whole new memory of Santa’s with myself and my sons and I like this memory a lot better. Tomorrow they say their uncle is taking them to a skating party. They live such magical lives…

When I stopped by the Santa Center I grabbed a postcard and wrote:

Dear Santa, I”ve been very good this year, I think. Please bring me a beautiful home for me and my boys, an abundant income generated through my creative work and I’d like to experience true love. Thanks, Tee.

When I asked my boys what they asked Santa for they said, “An X Box!” “An Ipod!”

Well, they won’t be getting either from me so let’s hope there’s a real Santa out there!

Second Chances?

Tamara and I had one helluva chat earlier.

I don’t even know why I called her as I drove home from dropping my boys off to school but I did and …that convo blew my mind.

Now listen…Tamara is my best friend but we have completely different mindsets. We treat others the same way, but when it comes to making decisions and reacting to situations we are the antithesis of each other.

I explained to Tamara that I decided not to participate in the honor society because they were trying to get me to go to the induction in Orlando and pay $2o per ticket for my sons which I somehow managed to save and THEN they had the nerve to email the morning I was about to drive all the way up there and say that my chapter dues were due before I could even participate in the induction. I was so glad that I had already decided not to go to the induction. I’m so glad I listen to my inner self.

So I’m on the phone with Tamara explaining how I told the chapter advisors in an email that, “I wish honors for academic achievements didn’t come with a price tag.”

I then went on to explain to her that my graduate advisor is trying to have a meeting with me and our Department chair. When I asked him if the meeting was mandatory, he said No. But he still insisted that I make an appointment. I tried to be nice and say I’m tired and I have a lot to do, but through email, he still insisted. So I sent him an email reply that read: “No. I do not like to be pushed into things. If I need your help I will come to you. Please respect that.”

She started laughing. “Tee, you know you be going off on people.”

“I know Prince. I feel like I always have to. I feel like I’m always telling people to get their shit straight when it comes to dealing with me. I don’t know why I’m like that. It’s annoying having to do that all the time.”

“Yeah but Tee. You have to realize that no one is perfect.”

I rolled my eyes and listened to her…and then it clicked. Finally.

“Wait, are you saying that since no one is perfect then…”

“Tee, yes. That means that EVERYONE is going to mess up sometime and if you constantly throw people away because they mess up, you’re not going to have anyone around you in the end.”

Everyone’s gonna mess up.

Everyone’s gonna mess up.


“So you’re telling me that when that dude from last week who called and said he wanted to buy me a dessert and I told him I’d call when I was on my way and he didn’t pick up- I shouldn’t have told his ass never to call me again?”

“Anything could have happened Tee. Maybe something came up. Maybe his kids were being rowdy. Maybe his Mama needed him.”


“I think I take it personally when someone doesn’t do what they say they’re going to do. I take it as an indication of their personality and I think they’re trying to disrespect me on purpose!” I said loudly.

“I KNOW you do that,” Tamara said. “Now take what’s happening now with your job for example. You’ve gone 3 times to pick up your check and each time they’ve been too busy to give it to you. If something was going on with the people at your job you would probably say they won’t give you your check because they’re being spiteful when they’re really- just busy.”

My mouth dropped open. I would have definitely thought that.

“No one is trying to HURT YOU, Tee.”


Nobody’s perfect.

Nobody’s perfect.

“Then how do you know when to give someone a 2nd chance?” I questioned her. In my opinion, Tamara gives way too many chances to idiots who don’t deserve it.

“That’s a chance you have to take, Tee. I usually give 3 chances because I KNOW even I mess up sometimes and I want to be given another chance too.”

“We all need people,” she continued in a later conversation which started because she realized that she is too forgiving and nice that she feels people walk over her. “You may fire your publisher but the truth is, you can’t publish your book by yourself. You may hate the way your designer works but you can’t design, that’s not what you do. You NEED a designer! We need people whether we want to or not but it sure is a struggle to have to deal with them when they don’t keep their word. It’s all about picking your battles, Tee.”

I hate Tamara.

Ok. Give someone a chance.
Give someone a chance.

Well, I need to first start by giving myself a chance. I judge people just as harshly as I judge myself. If I don’t give excellence in my projects, I am ridiculously upset with myself. That’s why I always give excellence. I always sow seeds by helping when people ask me for help. I always deliver on time and in a remarkable way. There are no exceptions that I can think of. I make sure of that.

I’m hard on myself and others because I know that excellence is attainable. I do it all the time because I want to. I want to be the first person to arrive at work. I want to give the most brilliant ideas. I want to work harder than anyone else. I want to blow your mind with my creative work. I want to. I can. I do.

Why the hell can’t everyone else operate like that?

“Cuz Tee,” Tamara began and I could hear her sigh. “Everyone is not you. I wish everyone could be like that then my life would be a lot more simple, but they’re not. That’s life. That’s people.”