Author: TPatterson

Random Weekend

Damn this was a long weekend.

Right now I’m sitting here like, “Damn do I really have to go to work tomorrow?” My weekend was *blushes* great!

My boys’ father picked them up in the early afternoon on Friday to keep them for the weekend. With a smile and a wave, they pulled away leaving me to frolick all weekend long.

First, I went to my Mama’s house to eat Thanksgiving leftovers. Then, I went back home to sleep. Then I woke up and went back there to eat. Then I drove back home to rest a bit from all that driving. Then my friend *laffs* came through.

I have to laugh when I think of him because dude is my friend from wayyyyyyyyy back…Damn, I just realized that all of the men in my life are from middle or elementary school. I guess it makes me more comfortable.Whatever. So dude is from wayyyy back and we’re sitting up having a drink and listening to Kanye. Next thing I know I feel something on my arm. Something soft and warm. I ignore it at first but when it continues to stroke me I look over at him.

His eyes are half closed and he’s leaning towards me.

“What’s up, Tee?” The words slide out of his mouth like a brotha on a mission. He’s looking me in my eyes with a serious expression. I give him a bewildered look. I’m honestly confused.When he lifts himself a little to scoot closer to me, I can’t help it I just, LAAAAAAAAAUGGGGGGGGGGGHEED!!!!

I couldn’t stop laughing! I really couldn’t! I know this dude is not trying me! LMAO!!!!

Oh my goodness! That was my laugh for the weekend! I guess as a man, he had to at least try. LOL! But that was so funny. Imagine, me and HIM!!! hahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!

Naw dude. Won’t happen. Ever. In life. Sorry.

So he leaves and I fix myself another drink and I settle down to allow the life changing sounds of Late Registration to invade my mind and overtake my senses.

You know how you turn the speakers down when you are confused and you need to think? Not with Kanye. When things get hectic, I turn my speakers UP!!!

I love Kanye West. I believe he is a gift from God to this earth. If you ever have a moment to simply reflect on him, you should. He is simply wonderful. Imagine what impact he will have on the world. Imagine the type of artists that will emerge after being influenced by his music. Kanye is the Michael Jackson of our time. Kanye is the TRUTH!

I was dreaming about him early this morning. I was in a room with some other chick and the door opened signaling the arrival of a package. I already knew what it was. As the small package was handed to me I could hear the heightening part of the song Diamonds from Sierra Leone, you know, just after Jay-Z SMASHES that shit wide open!

Foreeeeeeeeeeevuhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

I looked down at the neatly wrapped brown box. Here in my hand, was a collection of brand new beats straight from Kanye West. Just for me to vibe to and create something spectacular!

Just as I slipped a manicured nail under the brown paper to open my treasure, THE DAMN PHONE RANG! I sprung up in my bed and stormed out of my room and into the living room. I picked up the phone and pressed TALK with a vengeance.

“WHAT?!!” I screamed into the phone.

“Damn, forget you then! I was just callin to talk. BYE!”

I rolled my eyes and placed the phone back on the charger. I sat there with my arms folded for two minutes fuming over my lost connection with Kanye. Then I shook my anger off and walked back to my room. Two seconds later I was listening to him sing to me again. I felt so much better!

It’s crazy, I know. He just makes me smile so much. He’s not afraid to be who he is. He’s different. A little weird, focused, dressed fresh to death! The best thing about him is He LOVES HIS MAMA!

He sings:
She’s like a book of poetry
Maya Angelou
Nikki Giovani
Turn one page and there’s my Mommy!

Awww! I want my sons to sing a song like that for me! In fact, my son asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I bent down to whisper in his ear, just as serious as a broken heel on your new pair of shoes 5 minutes before a big date—–“I want a song.”

~smile~

Come on, how many men can you find you say those words and actually mean it? So many men have no appreciation for the women who brought them into this world and I really don’t understand how you can hate your Mama.

I grew up thinking my Mama hated me because she was always so mean and strict. Now when I look at her, I see nothing but love. All it took was a decision on my part to change my behaviour. No more trying to get her to understand how hurt I was in the past. No more pushing for an apology. What was done is done. I can’t go back so I chose to let it go, forgive and move on.

And it has made all the difference in our relationship. I actually like my Mama now. Now, when she’s being feisty I don’t get upset. It’s who she is. I had to accept that. She is who she is. I love her for everything she is.

Point blank.

Maybe it’s your turn to let some anger go. All it takes is a simple decision to leave it alone. I promise you, if you forgive and lay it to rest, that pressing pain won’t come back.

Let it go.

Camilla who?

How in the hell did Camilla get chosen as The Most Fascinating Person of 2005? All she did was marry the damn Prince. She waited a million years for him, sure, but there’s not a damn thing fabulous about her!

She must be Barbara Walters’ cousin or something. They look around the same age.

ANNNNNDDDDDDD…

My son woke up just as Kanye’s segment on the show came on. While I shooed him back to bed, he kept begging for me to read a story. A story? Dude, your bedtime is 8 o’clock. It’s after 10 and you’re making me miss Kanye!!!!

After I got him settled in, I walked back to the living room just in time to hear Kanye say something like, “I said that? I just say some things to f**k with people.”

What was he talking about?!!

THENNNNNNN….

My raggedy ass friend KIM is on the phone running her damn mouth a mile a minute. By the time I looked up, there was Barbara signing off her show!

I looked down at the phone. “Kim,” I said, making sure not to allow the anger in my voice escape through. “Who was #1?”

“Uhh…” she stammered.

I scowled.

“Kim, I can’t believe I let you talk to me while I was waiting! I’m not talking to you again for one week!”

“Shut up girl! Kanye won.”

“Shut up Kim. You’re making that up.”

“Girllll…. But we had a good conversation, didn’t we?”

“Bye Kim.”

“Call me back girl.”

“Yeah right!” I pout.

She laughs and we hang up. She knows I’m upset for real.

I call Tonya.

“Girl, did you watch Barbara Walters tonight?”

“AWW! No, I forgot! Why didn’t you call me?”

“Cuz I promised my ugly friend KIM that I’d watch it on the phone with her and she made me MISS who was number one!”

“Well, I’ll call my Mama and find out, I know she watched it.”

“Call me back.”

Two minutes later my phone rang.

“Girlll…”

“Who was it Tonya?”

“It was Camille Parker, you know the lady who married the prince.”

“WHAT?!!! What’s so fascinating about her?”

“Girl, I should have had you on 3-way with my Mama because she was saying the same thing!”

***********************************

The lesson for today is: Never talk on the phone with Kim when I’m trying to watch Kanye.

It Could Happen Like This

Yesterday I got a call from my girl while I was at work.

“Goodmorning this is Ms. Tee.”

“Goodmorning Tee, this is your HOMIE!” she said just as corny as she could.

My tone changed from office professional, to street homegirl. My voice deepened and I relaxed.

“What up chick?”

“Ok, do you spell professional with one ‘f’ or two?”

“One ‘f’.”

“Thanks. So this morning I was watching my favorite morning news show on Channel 33. It’s a Black female anchor, you should watch it, you’d like her. They deliver the real news, but they have a lot of fun. I watch it every morning while I’m getting ready for work.”

“Mmm, hmmm.” I respond while eyeing the dummy magazine our Director of Publications had given me to proofread.

“Well this morning, she was reading an email that she got from one of her viewers. It was a guy who said that he was looking for a good woman and he wanted to know if she knew where to find one.”

I giggle a little. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘Church I guess.’ and everyone laughed. She went on to say that the guy hadn’t been on a real date in two years and he was looking to settle down with someone long term. So I went on the Channel 33 website and I decided to write to her, asking her to give him my number.”

I tried my best not to laugh out loud. “You are WILD!!!!” I said. “You crazy!”

“So that’s where you come in. I want you to tell me what to write.”

“Ok, what do you have so far?”

She began to read aloud to me.
“Hi, I love your show. I’m responding to the email you got from a gentleman who is looking for a good woman. I’m a 26 year old professional…”

“What else?”

“That’s it.”

“Ok, so type this. ‘and I was touched by his heartfelt desire. I too am looking for Mr. Right to respect and share my dreams with. Maybe you could pass along my information to him, who knows it could be a match.'”

I hear her typing furiously as I speak.

“How should I end it?” she asks me.

“Put, “Have a beautiful day!”

“Ok, I’ll put my name and number too. How does that sound?”

“Desperate.”

She laughs.

“But hey! You never know.” I say.

“He’s probably ugly, huh?”

“Yep, he probably is, but oh well, you’ll have an ugly man who loves you to death. I’m sure you won’t be the only one to come up with the idea to write the station.”

“Naw, I probably won’t be.”

“Aiight chick, I’ll holla.”

“Holla.”

This morning I’m driving back up to the north side when my phone rings. It’s my friend.

“What’s up chick?” I greet her.

“Girl! We got straight called out today!”

“What? What you talkin about?”

“Remember the letter from yesterday?”

“Yeah. What happened?”

“Girl, how about I’m home getting dressed and watching the show when the time comes for the viewer mail and the host READ MY ENTIRE LETTER ON-AIR and…” she lowers her voice for effect. “She read my NAME!!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stop playin!”

“I’m not playin dawg. For real! I was about to throw up!”

“Hell naw! Hahahahahaha!!!! This is too much!”

“Did she say your last name?”

“No, that’s my only saving grace. She read everything else though, except for my phone number. I hope no one recognizes my name girl!”

“Well at least you have a common name. I still can’t believe it! Why didn’t you call me when it was on?”

“Girl, I was too shocked to move.”

I continue to laugh at her. “Hell naw! That is too funny! I can’t WAIT to tell everyone I know this story!”

And now I have…

Hope you liked it.

Mass Class

So I’ve been visiting churches. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want anyone to get too excited.

I know who I am. I know God. I love Him. My honest desire is to be used by Him and to please Him with my life. But, er, uh, I know I sometimes fall short.

The funny thing is, I’m much more happier with my life now than I was when I was a faithful church goer. Honestly, I have more peace. I have more joy. I accept myself a lot more. Back then I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect that I lived in a constant state of condemnation. That wasn’t cool- at all.

Now I feel that instead of my relationship with God being something that I strive for, it’s something that is mine, regardless of the circumstances. God is my God even when I don’t do everything the way the church says I should do it. God is my God even when I don’t have a pastor to instruct me and challenge me. My God is my friend. And friends don’t leave you hanging no matter what happens. I didn’t feel like that before. I felt like God was only with me because I was doing things like the church wanted me to. I like this new relationship.

A couple of Sundays ago I took my boys to church.Well, it was a Catholic church so I guess it’s called Mass. My neighbor’s cousin invited me after I told them I was looking for a church home.

As soon as we pulled into the church parking lot I knew I was in for it. My boys hadn’t been to church in a while and if you have any small children around you’ll understand that they ask questions about everything.

We walk into the church and immediately my 5 year old Sugarbear says, “MAMA! I want to sit in the front. I want to see!”
“Ok, Boo Boo,” I whisper. “Lower your voice and we’ll sit near the front.”

We’re walking down the middle aisle and my sons are walking on oppositie sides of me. We sit in the 4th row, close enough, but not too close. The church is huge. I look around. It’s not packed. In fact, if everyone tried, they could probably all fit into the first 4 rows. But they were all spread out, comfortably owning their own pews.

My Sugarbear’s eyes grow wide as he looks around. “Mama, what’s that?” he asks and points to a huge statue of Jesus on the cross. “Is that God?”

I cringe. “No baby, that’s not God. It’s Jesus, God’s son. Well, it’s what some people think Jesus looks like. No one knows for sure. He’s a part of God though.”

“Why is he standing there like that? Is he sleeping?”

“No, he’s not sleeping baby.”

“Is he dead?” he asks and studies my face as if he’s searching for the truth.

Yikes! I had done a good job laying the foundation for a relationship with God, or so I thought. I had yet to tell them the story about why Jesus was on the cross.

“Umm,” I muttered. Clearing my throat. “Baby, Jesus died on the cross.”
“WHY?!! Somebody killed him!?” he asks loudly, his voice echoing throughout the church.

“Baby, I’ll make sure to tell you the story later, ok?”

“What’s that in His foot Mama?”

“Baby, I’ll tell you all about it later. They’re about to start.”

The congregation stands and the man of God, the Father (?) walks down the aisle with three people in front of him. All of them are wearing white robes. The boy in front is carrying a cross.

“MAMA! Are those angels?” My 5 year old asks.

“No baby. They are helpers. They are servants.”

“Are they serving God?”

“No, they’re helping the man of God, right there.” I say and motion toward the older man in the long robe.

“Is that man– GOD?!!”

“No baby, he’s not God. He’s the preacher.”

“The creature?”

“No, not the creature,” I laugh, then I catch myself. “The preacher. Now hush your mouth.”

My 3 year old is silent, for now. Everyone sings a little song from the song book. My 5 year old wants to read along but he’s too slow. My 3 year old pretends to read along with me and he’s swaying back and forth to the music. I sway along with him until I realize no one else is swaying.

I grab his shoulder, forcing his movement to stop. The song ends.

They dismiss the kids and I go with them to the courtyard. There is an 12 foot statue of Jesus out there and my kids can’t believe their eyes. They stand frozen in amazement in front of the statue.

We sit down with the other kids but we can’t hear the lesson because the teachers didn’t have a microphone.

“Can we touch the water?” My 5 year old asks after spotting the waterfall.

“No!”

“I can’t hear her. I wanna go back in the big church.”

“Wait a minute Sugarbear,” I hiss into his ear.

After some time we are allowed back into the church. Before we sit down the kids stand in a group at the door. There are two little bowls of water there.

“What’s that water for Mama?” Sugarbear asks.

“I don’t know.”

A little boy hears us and chimes in, “It’s water for the cross,” he tells us and dips his finger inside. He then touches his forehead, his chest, his right shoulder then his left.

My sons eyes light up as they eye the water bowl, then look over at me.

Don’t you dare! I tell them with my eyes.

They sing another song and we sit down. They make some announcements and we sing another song again.

Out of nowhere a bell rings.

“Mama?” My 3 year old tugs at my shirt. “Does that bell mean it’s time to eat?”

“No,” I cough to cover my laughter. “It’s not time to eat.”

“Well when is it gonna be time to eat?” he whines.

I pull him close to me and place my face next to his. “You’ll eat when we get home.” I say sternly.

“Mama?” he calls me again.

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t you brush your teeth this morning?”

Huh? I place my hands on the pew in front of me and lower my head so that no one can see me laughing. You would think I was praying.

He stands beside me and asks again. “Why didn’t you brush your teeth Mama?”

“I did!” I hiss and lower my head again. Any minute now I’m gonna fall out from laughing.

“No you didn’t Mama? I smell your teeth. It’s stinky.”

I shake my head and compose myself as I look at my beautiful little boy.

Oh my gosh, it’s going to be along afternoon.

Energized

It’s funny because people often think I’m PMS’ing because I’m always so emotional. I’m not really, I’m just very sensitive. I don’t know, I just have this abundance of heart, gooey stuff going on and I feel things on a level that I guess most people don’t feel.

When I appreciate someone, I really appreciate them to the point where it can bring me to tears just thinking of how much their presence in my life means to me. And since I have a lot of wonderful people in my life, I cry a lot.

Today was extra beautiful. When I got to work there was an e-mail in my inbox inviting the faculty and staff to visit the faculty lounge for a chocolate treat. Gourmet chocolate! Then I saw an e-mail reminder that today was the day we would get our free massages.

I went into the room they had set up with scented candles and soft music.

When my turn came the man asked me, “Where’s your problem area?”

I cringed. “Um, I don’t know. My shoulders I guess. I. I, uh.. I’ve never had a massage before.”

“Oh really?” he asked raising his eyebrow at me. “Well, you’re about to fall in love.”

He adjusted the seat for me and I sat down and put my face down in the little hole, just like they do on TV. As he began to push on certain parts of my back, I couldn’t help it, I began to cry. I felt so stupid. I’m such a weirdo. I began to think about how good this school has been to me. Because of this job I have had my first taste of caviar. I’ve partied with the wealthy. I’ve enjoyed countless parties and I learn a lot from the professionals that I work for. I’m so comfortable here. The people are so nice. My director is great. No one is rude or mean to me.

The best thing about this school is, the teachers actually CARE about the students. Seriously, if you listen in on their conversations you hear them express worry over whether or not they are reaching them. Or you’ll hear them express frustration over a student who is non chalant about his education. This is definately the type of place where you can get really comfortable and stay for years.

I would never leave except, I want more for myself than being an assistant. I have more to give to the world. I want to use my gift as a means to take care of my family. Until my turn comes, I’ll be here, content and appreciative of this blessing from God. It’s almost been a year since I started here. Remember when I was a temp at the receptionist desk? Who’d have thought it would become permanent and I’d be loving my job right now?

As the masseuse kneaded my neck with his bare hands I thought about another first I had this year. Aside from those free concerts at the bandshell in college, The Kanye West concert was the first real concert I’ve ever been to. The greatest thing is those tickets were a gift from a man who wanted absolutely nothing in return.

I’m not used to that. I’m used to giving to men and dealing with men who have nothing to give to me. I still feel kinda overhwhelmed by his generosity.

And you know that Late Registration CD I’ve been listening to everyday at work and at home? Well, it was a gift from my friend Kenya. She lives in Brooklyn and she sent it to me because she thought I would like it. She was never more correct. I love it. If it wasn’t for her, I would never have gotten it, I don’t really buy anything for myself anymore. Well, I bought a $5 candle last week but that’s about it.

Oh here we go again, Ms. Mushy, Gushy Tee, crying about how happy she is.

~smile~

This blogger can keep steppin if she thinks I’m not gonna give Kanye props for his part in my recent happiness. I feel connected to him. It’s as if his success is my own. Everytime I see an interview or hear about him winning an award I become giddy. He was the underdog and he came out on top. I’m feeling that…

You know, I think I’m just happy that I finally get to see a man that is worthy of admiration.

Yeah… I’m so blessed and so happy and looking forward to enjoying the kind of success that Kanye has. The kind of success that comes from doing what God placed you on this earth to do and actually being appreciated and recognized for it. I believe he is annointed and his energy energizes me.

Life is funny, but life is good.

Looking for Him

I’m looking for a new doctor.

I’m frustrated because if I don’t find one soon, I’ll probably just brush it to the side and I really need to go. Truthfully, the last time I’ve seen a doctor, for ME, was when I had my baby 3 and a half years ago. I never even went back for my 6 week check-up after I had my son.

It’s not that I don’t like doctors. I just need a certain type of doctor. It can not be a man simply because I don’t believe a man can be sensitive enough with me and treat me with respect. I’ve had interactions with male doctors before and the first one, though highly recommended didn’t even bother to TRY to pronounce my first name.

I mean, it’s different, but it’s not that hard.

After I had my first son, I took him to get circumcised when he was 6 days old. The doctor was a man. He walked into the room with barely a hello and asked, “How old is he?” without even looking me in the face.

10 minutes after the procedure began the nurse called me back in from the waiting room. The doctor had cut the wrong way on my baby and he needed to be taken to the emergency room. You know I looked all over for that doctor but I couldn’t find him. We rode to the emergency room in an ambulance, me and my brand new baby. He wasn’t even crying, but I was.

When we got to the emergency room the emergency room doctor came in and looked at my son. Then he left and came back again. He tried to explain to me how to take care of his wound when I got home but when he opened the bandage and I saw all of that blood gushing out I flipped the hell out! I was crying and repeating, “I can’t do it. I can’t do it. My baby!”

The white male doctor looked squarely at me and said, “If you can’t take care of your child, you shouldn’t have had him.” He then left the room.

Yeah, that’s how they do you.

I have a couple more horror stories involving male doctors but I don’t even need to go there. I am a firm believer that no man will touch me again.

Damn. I hate that my life ended up this way. I hate that every man that I ever tried to trust and show some admiration or appreciation for made it his mission to control or diminish my spirit.

Or maybe I am so desperate to trust a man that I give too much, allowing the man to take on a role as my favored leader and I pledge strict obedience.

I say I don’t want a man to control me but secretly I do.

I want a man to take the reigns so that I can relax. I want him to decide what’s for dinner. I want him to drive. I want him to make the decisions. I want him to push me toward excellence and applaud my efforts and point out my inconsistencies. I want to make him proud of me. I want to be the woman he shows off and brags about and daydreams about. I want to be protected from all of the other mean men in the world, the shady car repair people and the electronics salesman who try to take advantage of you. I want to walk hand in hand and sit in the sand and laugh.I want someone to look up to.

I want…I want…

A father.

Wedding Blues

My weekend went well. I was able to go out and buy a Christmas tree for my boys. They love it! They’ve been asking for one for the longest.

It’s a fake one. I put it together on Saturday morning. I had them follow me around the tree as I put the lights on and we danced to some Christmas music. The looks on their faces were priceless. ~sigh~ Yeah, this is why I signed up to be a Mom.

All I got was lights. I didn’t buy any other decorations. And I got the multi-colored lights which made my lil sister comment, “That is sooo ghetto!”

Hey, I didn’t buy anything else because I was overwhelmed and I never really had to think about Christmas decorations before.

When I grew up, we broke out the old dusty plastic tree and pulled out the same garland and threw away the bulbs that were broken and added some iceicles and that was that! A few years ago everything changed when I went to visit my sorority sister Stephanie in Tampa for Thanksgiving.

It was a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving in Tampa. She had to work those few days and I was able to sleep all day and all night with no one bothering me. But when we went out shopping she spent a lot of time looking for decorations for her tree, saying, “This year my theme will be white and gold angels.”

Theme?

There’s supposed to be a theme for your Christmas tree?

So late Friday night as my sons and I perused the wares at the local KMart, I was overwhelmed by the choices and I went home basically empty handed.

I don’t think they even noticed.

“We need a gold star for the top!” my 5 year old said as he smiled in satisfaction after the lighting of the tree.

“I’ll find one soon, baby.” I promised him.

Speaking of Stephanie, this coming weekend is her wedding. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. Same issue, no money. Well, Nadia said I could ride with her boyfriend so I do have a ride, but I would have no place to sleep for the two nights and I don’t know anyone who lives in Sarasota, Florida. I feel really, really…unsuccessful. Yeah, that’s the word.

I BEEN finished with college and I still can’t afford to do simple stuff like attend my good friend’s wedding. I missed her graduation for the same reason although I tried to make it seem like that wasn’t it. I was too embarrassed to show up without a gift and I felt like a scrub because at the time I couldn’t come up with money for gas to drive to Tampa where she lives.

So I said I overslept and I hoped that she knew that I loved her with all my heart and I really wanted to go, but I just couldn’t.

Tonight I emailed her and told her what’s going on with me financially. I hate to back out at the last minute because I try to be a woman of my word, that is very important to me.

I hope she understands. I’ll make it up to her one day.

It won’t always be like this.

The only good thing about missing this wedding is I won’t have to face my Baby Daddy (who will be the best man) and his girlfriend. I really wasn’t looking forward to being at a social function with them. But I really, really wanted to see everyone else. My Baby Daddy and I have tons of mutual friends from college who we both keep in contact with, independent of each other. It’s going to be a pseudo reunion of sorts. But I’ll just have to miss out this time.

All I keep thinking is, it can only get better from here!

The Waiting Game

She frightened me when she burst into the room.

She wore a thigh length white coat that opened in the front revealing a pudgy midsection peeking through blue scrubs.

She paused before closing the door behind her and walking over to me.

I sat nervously on the edge of the examining table wearing nothing but a thin paper gown that had ripped in half while I was putting it on.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, nervously pulling the white paper cover from in front of me so that she could see that I had already ripped the gown that had been given to me. “I guess I don’t know my strength.”

“That’s okay. I think they are defective anyway. Everyone does that.”

I giggled a little and smiled at her as she extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Karen,” she said. “I’m your nurse practitioner. The doctor was busy today so I fill in the gaps.”

I looked her over. She was a white lady. She must have been in her early 40’s, a little chubby but I got this very, very warm feeling from her.

“Hi Karen, I’m Ms. Tee.”

“So, what’s going on today?”

“Well,” I say and look away. I’m so embarrassed. “I haven’t been to the doctor in a very long time and…I had..um, sex a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t felt right since. I think something is wrong.”

She begins to write on a paper inside a manila folder. “So, you had unsafe sex?” she asks, as if she already knew the answer.

“No way!” I tell her. “We had safe sex, but I still don’t feel right.”

“You had safe sex?” she asked, eyeing me.

“Yes we did. I’m too grown for that other stuff. Besides, the night we did it, I shaved beforehand and I’ve been irritated ever since. It’s so horrible. I don’t know if he gave me something or if it’s just me.”

“Well I always recommend waxing over shaving. Using a razor helps to spread any infection you may have in such a sensitive area.”

She looks down at her folder and continues to write.

“Ok, let’s go over your history. Have you ever been hospitalized for anything?”

“Yes, I have two kids.”

She laughs and continues, “Are both your parents living?”

“Yes.”

“Does your mother have any serious medical problems?”

“No.”

“What about your father?”

“Uh..I know he has asthma, that’s about it.”

She smiles at me and continues to ask me detailed questions about my family’s medical history and my history.

“Well,” I say, interrupting her. “All I’ve ever had to deal with was my asthma and I’ve had that since I was in elementary school.”

“Well I like to go through my entire list just in case there’s something you may forget. Just to be on the safe side,” she said and smiled at me.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Do you smoke?”

Oh no! Does she smell the black and mild on my breath? That was the last one– I promised myself. So technically, I don’t smoke- anymore.

“Nope.”

“Do you drink?”

“As much as I can,” I say and laugh.

She raises an eyebrow and asks, “Does that mean every night?”

I smirk and laugh. “No way. I drink socially and I rarely socialize.”

An image of the nearly empty bottle of Vodka on my kitchen shelf pops into my mind and I snicker.

“Do you abuse any drugs?”

Abuse? Man, I don’t have enough money to abuse any drug. That blunt over Thanksgiving break doesn’t count.

“Nope,” I say aloud and bite my lip to keep from smiling.

She examines my eyes, throat and nose. She says I have some inflamed something or other in my nostrils. Whatever. My nose is just big.

“Ok,” she says and stands up. “Let’s get a pap test done.”

That’s pretty much why I’m sitting here naked. I think to myself.

She calls the medical assistant to come in and set things up for her as she looks at my folder again.

“You have excellent insurance!” she exclaims. “Sometimes with other plans we have to find a way around things but your plan covers everything.” I know, I know- My job is the bomb!

She picks up a long thin stick with cotton on the end, it looks like a q-tip. “See this? This costs $130 and the one next to it is $140. Your insurance covers it all. We’re gonna give you the works!”

“Great.” I say stoically, trying to remember what a pap smear felt like.

My thoughtful expression slowly turns into a delightful one. From my recollection it felt quite –good! LOL!

“Scoot down,” the medical assistant guides me as I place my feet in the stirrups.

Karen positions herself directly in front of me and the medical assistant turns on the overhead light.

“Hand me a speculum.” Karen says to her assistant.

“A small one?” the young assistant asks.

“No, give me a medium one, she has two kids.”

“That’s right.” I grin and smile. “I only mess with the big boys.”

I feel a little discomfort as she inserts the speculum but it doesn’t hurt. I see her insert one, two, three of the long q-tips and hand them to the medical assistant.

“We’re gonna go ahead and test you for all of the STD’s and if you’d like we can draw blood for an HIV test and give you a flu shot.”

“Wait!” I call out when I notice she’s about to get up.

“Yes.” she answers and looks at me.

“Um, well, I was um, looking down there and I saw some, um, bumps and..Didn’t you see them?”

“Oh, let me look again. Where are they?”

“On the side, near my pantyline.”

“Well, those are just hair bumps, Tee.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be 100% but that’s what they look like to me. I don’t want to speculate until your test results come back but, I think you have a bacterial infection.”

“I do?” I ask and gulp.

“Yes, but don’t worry, no one gave it to you. You gave it to yourself. Those are caused by germs that most people aren’t prepared to combat. Wearing thongs is a bad idea. The thongs slide from your bottom to your vagina and all the germs slide with it. If you wipe from back to front, you’re spreading germs too. Even not using bleach on your underwear will cause the germs to continue to live and grow.”

“For real?”

“Yeah… That would explain the discomfort. But it’s perfectly treatable if we catch it in time. “Come on and sit up and let’s get the rest of the tests out of the way.

My head is spinning as I sit up. “Sure,” I answer weakly.

“Great! Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll be back with a prescription for some new inhalers. I want you to refill those prescriptions every month until you have an inhaler stashed in every room of your house, in your car even at your job.”

“Ok, um, could you actually pass mine to me right now? I’m kinda tight in my chest.”

“Ok, but while we’re at it I’ll give you a prescription for Flonase to help with your allergies. You’ll be on it for the rest of your life but at least you’ll be more comfortable.”

She walks out.

Great! I have always HATED the idea of being dependent on any kind of medicine. I am not taking Flonase and becoming dependent on it!

~sigh~

I get dressed and the medical assistant walks back in. I sit down and she draws some blood and gives me the flu shot. I used to be deathly afraid of needles when I was younger. I remember singing Hangin Tough by The New Kids On The Block extremely loud while the nurse put in my IV when I had bad asthma attacks. But now, shots don’t hurt anymore.

I gather my things and walk out the door. Once inside the elevator reality hits me. Damn. I’m waiting on the results from an HIV test again.

This really, really sucks.

I know I don’t have unprotected sex anymore. I know I get tested every year, but damn. People are dropping left and right. I’m no different from anyone else. Man, the messed up thing about it is, my random sexual encounters only happen when I get bored. I have sex when I’m bored, how dumb is that?

Sure, I try to choose men who are cool with me and I trust, but…you never know. What if I chose the wrong friend to do it with?

I always believed that I would make a difference in this world but I don’t want it to be because I am an AIDS activist. I want to do something good, help some people have better lives, but I don’t want my life to end. I can’t even lie, this would be the perfect punishment for all the stupid sex I’ve had.

The worst part about it is, if my test comes back positive I may never get to accomplish my dreams or see my boys grow up to love God and respect themselves and others…and…I’ll never get to experience the love and covering of a man that I can trust enough to simply, be myself.

And so I wait…

Waiting For a Dream

Today was a rough day.

Sure, I saw the little genie lamp flashing next to my speedometer for the past two days but I just said a little prayer asking God to allow my car to hold out until the 15th when I get paid.

I was preaching to my kids (I love to do that because they are a captive audience for my sermons) as I drove up the street. I was telling them about the importance of family and how we have to stand by each other and how we belong to each other and that we need to take care of each other.

All of a sudden, my car sputtered and slowed down. Uh, oh. I pulled into the turning lane and the car stopped.

I tried the ignition.

Nothing.

I turned it again.

Nothing.

Once more.

Nothing.

I called my sister and she came to rescue me. We dropped the boys off to my Mama’s house and went back to the car. We pushed the car to a side street and she worked on it for a while while I stood there looking helpless. Still no luck.

So my car is sitting there on the side of the road right now. Damn, I left the boys bookbags in there too.

For some reason I’m not stressed.

No, not stressed. Just tired. Very tired. My body and my mind is tired. I think my heart is tired too. What do I do now? Maybe the answer will come to me in my sleep.

I’ll let you know what dreams may come…

Time to Refocus

“Hey, this is Ms. Tee.”

“I know, what do you need?”

“My car broke down. It’s on the side of the road. My sister came to pick up me and the boys but we can’t get the car to start. You know I don’t have any money.”

“Ok, what do you want me to do?”

“Get my car fixed.”

“Why should I? I don’t call you for help when I need my car fixed.”

“But I have to take OUR children to school everyday.”

“Look, I’ll find a bus service for the little one starting Monday. If you can’t find rides for the next two days then that means you’re not trying. Other than that I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, it’s YOUR car, it has nothing to do with me.”

Click…

I call him back.

“Did you just hang up on me?”

“Yes, I hung up on you because I can’t hear you and I’m working. I don’t have time for this.”

“But how am I supposed to get the boys to school and from school with no car? How am I supposed to get the car towed or fixed with no money?”

“That’s not my problem, it’s your car. You figure it out. I’m WORKING. Don’t you understand that?”

******************

My sister says I must love the way he talks to me because if I didn’t like it I wouldn’t call him. I sometimes wonder if I’m simply too sensitive to his words. I second guess myself all the time when it comes to him. I try not to blame him for how he treats me. I know I’m sensitive, I know I get hurt easily so I try to make myself believe that it’s my fault for getting hurt by him. Or that I deserve it because I should have my shit together. If I could do it all by myself, I wouldn’t have to ask him for anything. I know he’d be happier that way. I would too.

Funny how, I’ve stopped receiving child support. Yep, No more $85 checks every two weeks. I questioned him about it and he said it’s not up to him. He says someone wrote a letter to his office saying that his wages would no longer be garnished. Huh? Our case is still tied up in court.

Sooooo…that is why he came to me a couple of weeks ago saying he would try to give me more money. I thought he was beginning to understand that it was hard for me but it wasn’t that. He knew that he didn’t have to give me money anymore so he decided to be nice and send me the money on his own. He even gave me a raise. Instead of $170 a month,which is the amount he’s been paying for the past 4 years, he promised I’d get $300 a month. How nice of him. Very nice considering my younger son’s daycare is $250 a month.

***************

“Mommy, why don’t you call the big truck and tell them to come get your car and take it away?Then you can get a new car like my Daddy.”

I laugh. “Well Boo Boo, Mommy doesn’t have the money for a new car, but don’t worry I’ll figure it out.”

“Well why don’t you call my Daddy and tell him to buy you a new car?”

I chuckle. “Um, yeah, how about next time you talk to him, you tell him that? Ok, Boo Boo?”

I laugh and shake my head. Funny!

********************

You get no results when you turn to the wrong person for help.