My Personal Blog from 2003 to 2011
Oh, so did you really think we were going to lose?
Excuse me. Let me get something straight. I come from the baddest muthafuckin city in the country. 
We do not lose. Miami-Dade baby! ALL THE WAY BABY!
It’s a Florida thang. You may never understand. 
CHECK THE HEADLINES
Pop that thang!
Shake that thang!Shake it Mama!
I think I’ll take the day off tomorrow to celebrate…
Steady Preparations
I’ve been running around all morning. My boys and I woke up late and we went to eat at BK before I took them to summer camp. Food is running low at the crib so I stopped by the grocery store to get the essentials for survival, you know, milk, bread, cheese, lunchables, fruit and ground turkey (I’m making spaghetti tonight).
Then I went on over to the flea market to see Jonathan and get my haircut. Today he was playing the Steve Harvey comedy show called ‘Don’t trip: He’s not through with me yet’. I don’t really like Steve Harvey as a comedian. He curses too much. I hated Kings of Comedy and I wouldn’t even give Queens of Comedy a chance. I prefer comedians who don’t use so much profanity. It burns my ears.
But this comedy show was different. Apparently he performed in front of a crowd of Christians because he promised there would be no profanity. I could tell he was grasping at straws as to what he would joke about. It was painful to watch him as he strayed away from his usual raunchy style of comedy at one point admitting, “You all will get your money’s worth tonight. I promise you that.” LOL!
Last night was pretty special. I saw an old, OLD friend of mine that I hadn’t met up with in more than four years. He looks great and speaking with him always makes me feel successful because he grew up in the projects in my old neighborhood and he is doing so well for himself. We actually talked late into the night as he explained to me the foundation of the unrest in the middle east.
Our conversation was prompted by a scene in a movie I watched called Pretty Persuasion. While the critics tore this movie apart, calling it dumb and pointless, I have watched this movie about 4 times since I rented it and I never get tired of watching the young Kimberly Joyce deliver memorable lines like, “Of all the races I’m glad that I was born white” as she attempts to manipulate her friends, her teachers and community to gain celebrity.
There is a Arabian character that Kimberly befriends who also becomes a puppet in Kimberly’s own quest for stardom. Always a fan of teen comedies, this one combined plenty of middle of the road sexual references (for the freak in me) with the underlying desire of a teen with ample intelligence as she seeks to gain some sense of acceptance. I felt sorry for her. Being rich and pretty just wasn’t enough to erase the fact that she had no one in her life who truly loved her.
~stretches~
Anyway, my lil sister’s wedding is two days away. I’m at my Mama’s house dying my hair. The color I’m hoping for is a crimson red. The bridesmaids are wearing red hair so I must conform. LOL!
My Mama just finished getting her dreads re-twisted and her honey blonde locks now reach just below her bra strap. Her hair is so pretty! Don’t tell her that though, she thinks she’s all that already.
As soon as I wash this stuff out of my hair, we’re on our way to get pedicures and pick up our dresses. Then I’ll go get my handsome sons and head to Walmart for new white tees and sun visors for all of us to wear to the HEAT PARADE tomorrow. There’s supposed to be about a million people in downtown Miami tomorrow afternoon and my boys and I will be among them hoping to catch a glimpse of our WORLD CHAMPION basketball team. My boys are excited and I am too. If I had a camera, I’d post pics but…oh well.
I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.
Have a beautiful day!
Later
I am trying very hard to pretend like everything is okay, but it’s not.
I will be back when I can smile for real.
For You I Will
I was trying to hide from you but hiding from you is like hiding from myself.
I feel so much better. I had to face one of the biggest demons in my life today: depression.
It comes on every blue moon now. Not like when I was a teen and everything was so damn serious and life threatening. ~smile~ I used to make lists of reasons why I should continue to live. They were always very short. I know why I’m like this. It’s not because I’m weak or stupid like most people would believe. It’s because I have inherited a spirit from my ancestors that is trying to take over my life. The spirit of depression.
The spirit of depression much like alcoholism and cancer flows freely through bloodlines, ravaging families and devastating lives. My own maternal grandfather killed himself when my mother was just 11 years old. It’s no wonder I have the same thoughts during times of frustration.
Today was one of those days. I reached out for help- again to the wrong person and was berated for my feelings. So I reached out again and got it right. I turned my ringers off, picked my sons up from school early and wallowed in self pity for a bit, fantasizing about taking the easy way out. Then there was a knock on my door and they walked in.
“Mama. Can we have lunch now?”
“Boy, it’s dinner time.” I laughed.
“But we want peanut butter and jelly. You don’t have to cook tonight.”
Is he saying he doesn’t want me to cook? “No, I’m cooking. You need hot food.”
I had to get up. I had to shake it off. I had to stand up and give them big hugs and take care of them. Looking around my beautiful duplex, it’s just me and them. No one else would do it. I had to.
As I watched my sons scamper off into the living room I realized that I can not allow this spirit to touch their lives. My Mama grew up without parents because of depression and my childhood was ruined because I did not know how to fight it. I can’t push my children away to indulge in my own selfish pity party. An afternoon of pouting is enough. I can’t let it last a minute longer.
I made dinner, we ate it and showered and watched a movie together. We laughed and laughed and the world seemed right again. My sons are the best part of me. They are who I am without all the baggage from being hurt and belittled all of my life. They have the compassion and consideration that I have and I am amazed everyday by how thoughtful they are.
I can not kill that. I can not be the ghost of a Mama who they will always remember crying and locked up in her room because things weren’t going her way. I will not give up on them. I will not give up on me.
I will not let this beat me. I will not waste years of my life wondering what’s wrong with me. I KNOW what’s wrong with me. It’s a generational curse. God has already predestined that certain curses will end with me and I believe this is one of them.
I didn’t escape the curse of being on welfare or single parenthood but I’ll be damned if my children don’t understand what it is they are up against. Happiness is a choice. Survival is a choice. It’s easy to give up and freak out. It’s easy to pout and cry.
I don’t choose that for myself or my sons. They will have a Mama who laughs and plays with them. They will grow up with a Mama who cares enough to remind them to make the right choices in life. Along with love, I offer them accountability. Once I make them aware of the spiritual battles that have been fought and lost in our family, I will encourage them to be responsible and to choose life.
Today I realized that although my Mama couldn’t help me because she didn’t know how, I can help my sons. God gave me full authority to speak into their lives and help shape them into the men He has called them to be. I will not be the cause of their unfruitful lives. As much as I want to write and heal and be healed through my words, my greatest gift to this earth will be the two young men I will send off to impact and change lives.
For them, I will rise.
This situation is only temporary, but my sons will remember my reaction to it for the rest of their lives.
I will not teach them to give up.
Naked Boy
My 5 year old loves to take his clothes off. I bet he’d sleep naked if I let him. He once said, “I want my whole body to be cool.”
This morning I woke up to the sound of his little brother saying, “Mama, he’s naked again.”
I laughed and said, “That’s okay. He can be naked in the house. It’s his house. As long as he doesn’t go outside naked it’s alright.”
“It’s my house?” he asked me while nibbling on his breakfast bar.
“Yes, it’s your house.”
“All of it?”
I laugh. “Yes, everything in it.”
He seemed to think for a second and after wiping the milk mustache from his toffee colored face he asked, “Then why are you here?”
Terrorists in the projects?
In what wasn’t necessarily a unfamiliar scene in Liberty City, a fleet of cop cars and FBI agents swarmed a warehouse on 15th and 62nd avenue near the Pork-N-Beans projects yesterday.
They arrested seven men for being alleged Al Qaeda supporters using information gathered by an FBI agent who infiltrated the group. Police officials say that the seven men planned to blow up the Sears tower and attack the FBI building downtown among other targets. The men were found with no weapons and were deemed incapable of pulling off their alleged plans.
He Didn’t Even Speak
Wow.
My little sister’s getting married today. Yesterday we spent some time together doing last minute preparations for her wedding. Last night we met at the church for the rehearsal and encountered the most disturbing situation.
Ofcourse everyone was late, except me. I have this thing about being late. I was the first to arrive so I wandered around the empty church looking at everything, playing with the microphones and pretending to give a sermon. When my Mama got there we walked to BK to get a burger and when we got back the other bridesmaid and flower girl and ring bearer were there. None of the groom’s family showed up for the rehearsal. I found that a bit odd.
But what was even more odd was the fact that the pastor stepped in quietly, didn’t introduce himself to anyone and didn’t say a word until it was his time to speak during the rehearsal. He didn’t even invite any of us to church on Sunday. He didn’t even give my sister or her fiance a hug before he left. His demeanor was more business-like than anything. I felt so uncomfortable. As if I was unwelcome there.
The rehearsal went fine. Me and the other bridesmaid joked that we would do the snap dance on our way out of the church. My hair came out alright. It’s not bright or anything but it’s nice.
After the rehearsal I came home and I all I could think about was how her pastor barely spoke to her and how he didn’t even introduce himself to our parents or any of the other new faces he saw. It would have been the perfect opportunity to win a few souls for Christ, assuming we hadn’t been won already, but he didn’t even seem interested.
How can you be a pastor and not be interested in meeting the family of two members of your congregation? I guess since it wasn’t Sunday he was “off” and couldn’t be bothered with making us feel welcome in his establishment.
I called my sister late last night and spoke to her about it and she said that he is very much like that. Even during their marriage counseling sessions he was stand offish. For some reason he runs his church like a business and is very impersonal with her and her fiance. I asked her why he acts that way and she said she didn’t know. She hadn’t paid the fee for his matrimony services yet and she asked him if she could pay after the ceremony and he seemed upset.
This hurts me so much.
Now I wonder about their spiritual state because my sister is very religious and is one of those people who constantly says, “God told me to…” But how can she be totally in tune if she has a spiritual leader who is not interested in connecting with her as a father? Church is not supposed to be a business. You don’t marry someone just because they paid you.
I believe the spiritual well being of any church going Christian is a direct reflection of the spiritual leadership that they are under. We learn from our leaders and fashion our lifestyles from their example.
I am extremely dissappointed with him and I think that I will probably say something about it to him today. I’m trying not to let it get me down but I realize that you can depend on no man to love and nurture you.
My little sister’s getting married.
As headstrong as she is, she will make a way. No matter what comes, she will handle it. I made sure to tell her that I believed in her ability to make the right decision.
Let me go pick up these shoes and accessories.
The Wild World of Weave
I’m hosting a hair show tomorrow night at the Joseph Caleb center in Brown Subs. I’m not nervous at all, I just have no idea what to wear nor have I ever been to a hair show. I watched the tape from last year and it was full of booty shaking, plus sized models and wild, WILD hairstyles.
I think it’ll be fun. If you’re in the area, come on out.
Ruin Your Sister’s Wedding With 3 Simples Sentences Part I
Chile………
Let me tell you all about the wedding.
So I spend most of the day on my couch in pain because my monthly homegirl decides to make a visit and she’s killing me. By 3pm my phone is ringing off the hook and I know it’s time to make it over to the church because the wedding is supposed to begin at 5.
My sister calls and asks me to pick up my Mama and head over to the church to get dressed. When I knock on my Mama’s door, her head peeps out of the wondow and dissapears again. She opens the door and smiles.
I stand frozen. Shocked. Amazed.
My sister in law had styled her dreads in a beautiful crown of curls and she looked beautiful! In fact, I don’t think I have ever seen my Mama looking so nicely.
But ofcourse I didn’t tell her that.
“Who did your hair Mama?”
“Steph, do you like it?”
“It’s okay,” I respond with a smirk.
“HATER! Don’t be hatin on a Sista cuz you know I look good!”
I laugh.
We drive on over to the church and when we find my sister sitting in one of the backrooms off of the courtyard she is crying her eyes out.
“What’s wrong Teenie?” We ask.
“Look at this cake! It’s not what I ordered. It looks nothing like what I ordered. They just gave me what they wanted to give me. I can’t believe I spent all that money on a cake and they didn’t even get it right!”
“Aww Teenie, it’s not that bad,” My Mama says.
“Yes it is! It’s ugly. I wanna throw it away! I can’t believe this!” she wines. “And look at that tent! I asked them for a tent that would seat 150 people and they gave me the wrong one, the chairs are wrong, the table is wrong. It looks just plain tacky! I can’t believe this.” She is sobbing uncontrollably now.
The women around her are trying to offer words of encouragement but she is not hearing it. We finally convince her to begin getting dressed and I help her into her many undergarments and finally, into her beautiful wedding gown. She removes her hair net and a cascade of dark curls fall to her shoulders. The make up artist does her makeup and really puts the shine on my sister.
She’s glowing and I can’t believe her raggedy behind is getting married. I’m standing there in awe. My Mama comes from behind the screen wearing her floor length gown and pearls and I almost pass out.
My Mama NEVER wears dresses or anything girly. She never wears makeup or gets her nails done. She usually wears her long dreads in a ponytail but tonight, she is looking magnificent.
I can’t believe it.
I slip on my bronze colored halter top bridesmaid dress and accessories and sit down to have my make up done. When she hands me the mirror I raise my eyebrow. Damn, I still look like my 5 year old son.
Now I know there are some women who have a minimalist policy when it comes to make up. A little bit of lip gloss, maybe some eyeliner and they are done. Not me.
Everyday I do the whole shebang. Foundation, powder, two different kinds of eyeliner, mascara, 3 different shades of eye shadow, blush, lip liner and I mix my lip glosses to create the colors I want. I do not hold back. My face is my canvas and I enjoy being creative.
See?
Well, I had left all of my make up at home so I had to be creative. I went into my purse and found a black eyeliner and some gold lip gloss. I used the gold gloss as eyeshadow and lined my eyes with the eyeliner. I took some of the make up artist’s rose eyeshadow and I used that as blush. She also had a tube of two in one foundation and I spotted that across my face to give me a smoother finish.
I was definately satisfied when I was done.
It’s time to go into the church now because everyone is getting restless. We walk over to the main building and are ushered into a room on the side to wait. The music begins and the pastor and her fiance walk out to the front. There’s a rush in the back because the bride’s bouquet isn’t quite ready but we start the processional anyway. My brother escorts my Mama down the aisle and from what I hear she walked with all majesty.
As her bridesmaid it was now my turn. I felt kinda goofy walking down the aisle like that. So I turned it into my personal show. I strutted and smiled and had a good time until I reached the front. Her maid of honor walks next and then her beautiful little flower girl.
It’s finally her turn to walk down the aisle. The doors open and there she is, wearing the gown that most single women fantasize about. Beneath her veil I can see tears streaming down her cheeks as her father walks unsteadily next to her. Him. I can’t help but laugh as I remember him all dressed up in his tuxedo. ~smile~ He looked so proud. Wow.
“Who gives this woman to be wed?” the pastor asks.
“I do.”
As the ceremony proceeds I get this funny feeling in my head. Oh man. I didn’t eat anything today. My equilibrium is off. Please let me get through this. I spread my feet apart slightly to give myself balance. Oh no. I close my eyes. What’s wrong with me? I begin to sway. I snap out of it and remind myself to focus as they exchange rings and light the unity candle.
In two shakes of a lamb’s tail, the pastor says, “You may kiss the bride.” When they kiss everyone laughs and claps.
“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. D. Ritchie,” the pastor says and immediately a loud BOOM echoes throughout the church. Oh no, thunder. The reception was planned for outside on the courtyard.
After all of the hoopla in the foyer as everyone rushes to congratulate the couple, I hear the wedding coordinator say that almost everything was soaked.
“We’re going to have the cancel the reception,” my sister says to me.
“Is there a room in the back we can have it in?” I ask her.
“Yes, there’s a fellowship hall but he is going to charge me $250 to use it.”
“He’s your pastor!” I say annoyed.”You pay tithes. This is your church too!”
“I know but…” she trails off and someone else whisks her away to take pictures.
I’m steaming mad by now. I think you would have to pay me to be in the company of any pastor. I have no respect for the ones I have encountered and I damn sure don’t ever want to be treated the way he was treating her. I was pissed. Then I saw him. My smile turned upside quickly.
“Teenie,” I said and grabbed my sister. “Speak to him. This can’t be right. He seems to be ignoring you. Just wait and speak to him.”
She waits for 20 seconds as he stands with his back to her talking to the parents of the groom. He knows she is standing there. How could you overlook her, she’s the BRIDE? HELLO!
She walks away and I am furious!
Don’t be treating my sister and her husband like that. Dude hasn’t been mingling with the crowd at all. Everytime I catch a glimpse of him, he seems to be trying to hide out in his office.
I’m pissed. That is not a father. That is not a role model. You charge my sister $500 to use your church when she is a tithing MEMBER and you ignore her on her wedding day as if you don’t know her. She spent months under your tutelage in counseling and you barely even PRAY for her during her ceremony.
I’m discussing the whole situation with Anna when I see him again. The red light goes off in my brain and I walk up to my lil sis and ask her, “Do you mind if I say something to him?”
“No,” she says. “If God doesn’t tell you to say something then don’t say anything.”
Hmph.
He betta not let me see him again.
I continue to talk and mingle with my family. All of the married women are standing around talking about how everything is all wrong and the coordinator must be a single person. Everyone is talking smack and most of the guests are leaving in the pouring rain as the photographer takes pictures of the wedding party. I’m too upset to stand for pictures so I am not in many of them.
And then I see him walk out of his cubby hole and sit down on the front pew. I see him smile fakely at my little cousin and cross his legs. I see him and I am drawn to him magnetically. Before I know it I am standing in front of him and he extends his hand to greet me.
“Nice to meet you,” he says stiffly.
“Well it’s not nice to meet you! Let me tell you something….” The words that come out of my mouth are not nice. I remind him that as a spiritual leader he is behaving poorly and the vibe he is trying to communicate to my sister and her husband is being felt by all.
“This is their wedding day! You can NOT ignore them and treat them as if they are second class. My sister stood right there waiting to greet you and you ignored her!”
“I was handling business,” he explains, obviously agitated. “I was discussing the ring ceremony.”
“Whatever! That’s not your job, you’re not the coordinator! You’re the pastor, you are supposed to be blessing them and encouraging them on the most important day of their lives and you act like you don’t even want to be here. You won’t even shake her husband’s hand! What’s wrong with you? What kind of spiritual father are you? You know what? I’m praying that my sister will leave here and find some real leadership because I will NEVER step foot back in this church under someone who would be so rude to the guests. All of these people here could have used some of your light but you don’t even want to be nice to them! I can’t believe you! I’m praying that yo uget it right one day!”
“Well you do that then!” he says and stands up.
“Best to believe I will!”
to be continued….
Ruin Your Sister’s Wedding With 3 Simples Sentences Part II
As I walked toward the back of the church my emotions were mixed. For one, I realize that I just chastised a grown man in his own church and I also realized that this incident could potentially harden my heart even more towards pastors.
My thoughts are interrupted by my older cousins rushing up to me. It takes me a few moments to register who they are.
“Girl, who is coordinating this wedding?” they want to know.
“The wedding coordinator.”
“Well, she’s doing a bad job. She must have never had a real wedding before because she doesn’t know what she is doing. I’m so mad I know I need to go help the photographer pose her for pictures!”
They rush off to give the photographer guidance and I sit down to meditate on what I had just done. When I look up the pastor is walking over to my sister and her husband and he is giving them both hugs and laughing with them.
Oh..He betta act right.
Because the reception was rained out, an announcement is made that we will all adjourn to the fellowship hall. More than half the guests have left by now and others are saying their goodbyes.
Some lady grabs me and I am ushered into one of the back rooms of the church along with my sister and her husband. Then a door is opened and we are pushed inside a tiny room. I peek in and see- the pastor.
~raises eyebrow~
We have to sign the marriage certificate as witnesses. He still doesn’t smile or even look at any of us. I sign. Then the best man signs. Then after an uncomfortable silence we all leave. My sister is shooting daggers with her eyes and I keep looking away.
We wait outside of the fellowship hall until they announce us and we all walk in. There are no decorations and no tables. My sister is laughing and laughing.
“As hard as I tried to make this wedding nice, it still turned out ghetto,” she laughed. “Oh well. I can’t believe I spent so much money for this and nothing turned out right.”
“We’ll still have fun,” I told her.
“I’m mad at you,” my sister tells me. “I told you not to say anything to him.”
“But he was tryin you!” I pleaded for her forgiveness.
“So!” she shook her head. “Now when you write about this I have the perfect title: Ruin your sister’s wedding with 3 simple sentences!”
We both laugh and she gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
We were served dinner. A few speeches were made and the bride threw the bouquet to a mob of crunk women wearing no shoes.
I sat down and laughed. His family is funny. I enjoyed meeting them.
Her boyfri…er..HUSBAND walks over to me and says, “I’m your BROTHER now!”
I take two steps back. “No you ain’t.”
“Yes I am! Brother-in-law.”
My mind hasn’t processed the relation yet so I stand confused before someone taps me on the shoulder to talk to me.
After the dinner and the cutting of the cake, I packed up my bags and a few of the gifts and headed home to change. My little sister and her HUSBAND followed me and we spent the next hour opening gifts and recording them.
It was now time for the afterparty at my Mama’s house.
I threw on a t-shirt and some jeans and flew over there because I know it was about to be on. Liquor bottles were everywhere. Cousins were plentiful and the old time music was blasting from the computer. LOL! My Mama loves her itunes.
Everyone sat around talking about the wedding and a tall drink of water walked over to me and gave me a hug. Damn bruh… Who are you?
“I’m your cousin. I’m Charlie’s son. I’m from New Jersey.”
“My cousin? Are you a Patterson too?”
“Yes.”
“Too bad.” I chuckle.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Welcome to Miami.”
My Mama and I commence to getting our drank on! We were both dancing for everyone in the den of her house. Gettin LOOOSE!!!!!
Shakin it! Workin it! Poppin it! Shakin that thang!
I go outside to hang with my little brother and other cousins. It’s so good to see my brother. He’s a really nice guy. He takes good care of his family and of every man I know, he knows how to deal with my difficult personality. I miss him so much but I don’t want him to move back down here because sometimes I think Miami is a trap for black men. Limited opportunities to do right and unlimited opportunities to be a ghetto superstar.
When my Mama reminds me to stop drinking because I have to drive home I lean in close and whisper, “I have a ride home Mama.”
“Who?”
“My friend.”
She looks at me and I laugh.
When Dude arrives to drive my tipsy behind home she follows me out the door and introduces herself to him. I roll my eyes. Oh Lord, I never mentioned him to her before but I know that she’s gonna bring him up again.
“You’re drunk,” he says to me as he pulls away from my Mama’s house.
“Sure am. Let’s go.”
**Sorry. No camera. No pics to share.
