FE's REALITY

Smut & Sciatica… Should be interesting?! Well, not really – but get the smut portion out of your brain. I simply added it for shock factor. It seems to work for everyone else – maybe it will work for me? ……... NAH… Okay, on to the REAL!

November 2013, on an early morning while getting dressed - I bent over to pick up a sock that I had dropped. I did it the correct way, bent knees – all of that. But if a pain that could have only been delivered by the Devil himself didn’t shoot up my right leg and back and knock me literally to my knees. I then laid on the floor for about 20min until I could gain the strength to stand up. Slowly I made it (I'd estimate it took me 10min to simply stand up).

Now anyone that knows me, knows I cannot stand Doctors, Hospitals – none of it. But I hibble-hobbled my tail right to Kim’s room and told her I needed to go to the hospital right then and there. She of course jumped out of bed and handled it. For me to admit it is time to see a Doctor is a minor miracle in itself.

I was diagnosed with it being Sciatic and given a prescription of Gabapentin and a list of stretches to do. Oh, and to avoid stairs.

Well the summary of that is this:

I live in a house with two flights of stairs, my bedroom being on the top floor - you can't just up and move.

I took the meds and half ass-half assed the stretches. Let me break that down one more time. I HALF ASS-HALF ASSED the stretches. Which translates to doing them every other month. I was scared to walk for any length of time <which was NOT me> which caused me to pretty much become even more of a homebody than I already had been, because I didn't trust myself walking for long distances or long periods of time.

Early last year (a year and some change after the diagnosis) I went to DC for an industry conference, where we had to run between Houses and speak to various Senators, I was in so much pain, walking slower than everyone else (something I simply did not do prior to sciatic) and as I sat on a concrete bench in the cold of DC (it actually soothed the inflamed nerve) because I no longer had the strength or energy to walk with the others, I knew then that I had to do SOMETHING.

First I'm overweight. I'd like to think I'm at least 75lbs overweight. Which in some arenas, is a half of another person. How that came to be is of course my fault, I purposely gained weight. I was an average weight teen, but growing up in Oakland, a girl with meat and curves meant a whole lot. So I purposely ate more, trying to gain the weight. Never taking in account that even if I gained weight, I'm not built like my Big Booty Neighborhood Sisters. Had I only taken a moment to really pay attention to the women in my family, I would have used common sense and just said no to all of the extra I was eating, because the ladies in our family are not built that way. <Yes, it is okay to laugh here, because I am cracking up>.

I'm embarrassed to say I caught a clue by my very early twenties when I noticed that I really wished my butt was the size of my gut. By then, it was too late, that weight had kicked in and clearly is a black belt in Karate, because it keeps on kicking.

Yet - I've always been mobile. I've never been much of an exercise type of person, but when I've gotten a bit too big for my taste, I'd always be able to curb my diet a bit and walk it off and get a good 20lbs off of me.

Well, with a desk job, good and plenty into my 40's - that sciatic bitch decided to visit. Yes she did. And I finally felt what it would be like to not be able to move around, be mobile. I'm single, no children of my own, getting older - um, I need to be able to take care of myself. I have never been anyone's burden and truly do not plan to become one. Not to mention a lot of the other symptoms that come with getting older, the joint pain, not being as spry as you once were. I feel it now more than ever and I realize it will not get any better. I need to get my life in order. Health is the true wealth.

Upon my return to California I was introduced to a trainer and have been working with her for almost a year, I've been able to keep off 15 of the 28lbs lost. Which is good. I work out 3 times a week (Mon, Wed, Fri). I admit there are times I'm going strong, but then I fall off and it is so hard to get back into routine, but I try and I succeed each time. That is a first for me. That is good. I stretch more, before exercising and now I do the stretches at home (not as much as I should) but I do it more than when it was originally prescribed to me. IT.IS.NOT.EASY. I’m sore as hell as I type this. But I'm committed, I just wish it wasn't such a struggle - but the way I see it, I have to do it NOW - the longer I wait, the older I'll get and the harder it will be.

This is what I'm tired of being tired about. I'm tired of the self-sabotage!!! I want to keep going until I get to my desired weight. I want to learn how to eat in moderation. I'll do really well w/ the diet for about 30 days, and fall off for two weeks - therefore sabotaging all of the work that I put in w/ the exercise. I'm tired of being tired of this self-destructive roller coaster. It is exhausting! What is wrong with me?

My Doctor is ecstatic at my new routine and has altered my high blood pressure medicine. I complain a lot about the aches and pains – which I’m sure is from all of the exercising (and getting older, let’s be honest) – because I truly no longer have many sciatic symptoms <yayyyyy>!!! My wonderful Doctor explained it is the weight. So for every 5lbs you lose, it’s like 20lbs being lost on your knees and joints.

I've realized some things though. I've realized that sugar plays a big part. Honestly I'm not a sweet tooth type of person, but I've noticed that because I have convinced myself that I do not need my drug of choice (white rice and gravy) the sugar bug has turned sinister. I crave things I never craved before. Pop Tarts <ewww>. I crave various types of candy that I've never craved before. So that tells me that this sugar jones is real. It's like substituting one high for another and I can't. I need my life back. MINE. What are they putting in this crap? This is NOT pure cane sugar!

So a good buddy of mine, my FB Wonder Twin is in it with me. 1^st step is 10-Day SUGAR DETOX – very hard. VERY.HARD. As I type this we are in Day Three and this is the day I knew would drive me crazy. If I can get through two more days, I think I’ll make it.

I’m just tired of being tired. I want to live to be a hundred. How amazing would that be? My Grandfather made it to 94 so I think I have a good chance. I want to run a marathon. I want get me a young boyfriend (Hot Thang). I want to ride on a motorcycle by myself. I want to learn to fly a helicopter. I want to be able to do all of these things, but FIRST… I NEED to get this weight off of me. I need to stop with the destruction of me.

So in order to do that. I need to make myself accountable. I’m posting pictures of myself (and I always hate my pics – never was a good pic taker, lol) as it stands at this moment. I’ve lost inches from the workout. I can tell and my clothes do fit a lot looser than they did at this same weight prior to working out (you can’t really tell as I look like Baby Huey right now in these pics). These are pics of myself after I worked out Monday night, so forgive the roughness. I weighed in at 227.8 this morning. It’s coming off y’all. I’m tired. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being tired of being tired. Let’s do THIS…

So until next time, I'm blogging this journey. To remind myself why I need to do this.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Reading...

I know, I know - it's been a 100 moons since the last time I blogged. I'm writing again! Excited about that, but that's not what I'm here to blog about today.

I recently begin reading a genre that I really never cared for, erotica. I say that because in the books I've read there was never any good writing except for maybe Anne Rice's books, but as much as I love her writing - she never fully got me there. I'm just not into it.

How I stumbled into reading this genre, a good friend told me to read the Fifty Shades Trilogy. Which I did. First book good, second book bad, third book better than the second but not as good as the first. My opinion, bad writing. I wanted to scream every time I read, "Laters Baby". Too repetitive, unbelievable things that made my eyeballs roll up into the back of my head and I begin to fear that maybe they would get stuck there.

I wouldn't call this set of novels true erotica, they are a more watered down version, romance with kink. The genre is referred to as "Mommy Porn" which is the step-sister to traditional erotica. So then I figured, maybe I should read other authors in this genre. To get a feel of what is really out there.

Same thing. I did however pick up on an author by the name of Sylvia Day, the author of the Crossfire Series: Bared to You & Reflected in You who is a better writer. She has a repetitive bone as well, but it is not as obvious - she is smart enough to throw it in another story and not the series. I can see her growth from her earlier work to this recent series and I can see me reading more of her work in the future.

But the more I read I noticed other authors changing up their styles to get on the Fifty Shades train and it was sad. Real sad. I'm a writer and as much as I would love to be on the NY Bestseller list for weeks on end and to bounce from book signing to book signing and have my book be on the lips of an enormous audience as the best book ever, I cannot change up my writing style to ride on the coat tails of another's success. Can't do it.

However there was a surprise waiting for me. An author by the name of CJ Roberts. The Dark Duet Series: Captive of the Dark and Seduced in the Dark are awesome reads. AWESOME. These books were unlike anything I've ever read.

The writing is great, the story is great. I had to read both books again and normally I do not do that. Once I've read a book, I've read a book. How I usually tell my "gems" are the ones I pick up over and over again. It wasn't driven by the sex, that was a plus lol, but it was more psychological than anything else. It was dark, made me feel uncomfortable and intrigued at the same time.

She didn't take on too many characters. It was focused and a damn good read. The first book I read in about 7 hours. The second book would have been the same way - but I had to force myself to put it down to get some rest. Still ended up waking up about 2am to attempt to finish it before I had to go to work. The bummed out part was I couldn't find much else by this author - but I'm waiting patiently.

I've come up with this summary. It is worth reading 100 bad stories to get to one great one. I'm glad I'm that type of reader. I won't blast any authors out there - because I'm struggling myself. However I will say this, be true to yourself and to your art. This genre works its way into pretty much all fiction. Who doesn't want to read about romance, great sex and adventure? Still the bottom line is great writing and storytelling - that is the glue, otherwise it all falls apart.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Enemies in Love

When September approaches it will be 10 years that my best friend Brenda Smith went on to greener pastures.

In that 10 years I have mourned every milli-second of her leaving. For me, the loss defies description. There was never any doubt in my mind that she hasn't gone on to something beautiful. To leave the people she loved the most - it had to be awesome so that in itself brings me some form of peace.

There is not a place today that I can look to or think of that doesn't have some form of memory of her. Even things and people that occurred after she left. That's how powerful this friendship was/is to me.

The day she left was a wake up call like no other, as weird as it may sound the rose-colored glasses truly shattered and people, places and things had such a different look and feel. Was Bren the rose-colored glasses? Maybe.

My friendships changed after that. Some of those understood, some just didn't give a damn. Which basically translates to some friendships became stronger while others ran their course. Brenda truly taught me the meaning of the thin line between love and hate (we weren't always friends). My friendship with her taught me the bad in good people and helped me recognize the love of an enemy.

She taught me that some people are worth the fight. She also taught me to not be so quick to judge when you are not the one that has a full understanding of the final plan. I have to give it to her, that last lesson was the most profound. There were things in life prior to that I always needed to know why (why, why and why) I still wonder that, but it doesn't consume me like before. But get this - this lesson happened the day I realized she closed her eyes the final time. All the things I questioned suddenly had an answer. I'm just pissed I had to lose my friend in the process.

I hope everyone has a chance to experience that type of friendship. Not one based on material and competitiveness. When it is based on those two things it really isn't a friendship, it is enemies that love one another. Always that one-upmanship. Based on envy, jealousy and let's be frank here - hate.

Some people waste a life time on those ill relationships. My advice - more power to you. The 19 year relationship with Brenda that ended as painfully as it did I'd take any day over the bullshit friendships I witness.

Friends do not count your money for you, monitor what car, clothes and jewelry you wear.
Friends do not use you for access to things they wouldn't normally have access to.
Friends do not have to question your loyalty as there will never be any doubt.
Friends tell you when you are wrong, but love you anyway.
Friends know and recognize you are not, will not be the only friend they ever have - that makes this life boring and stagnant.
Friends teach you lessons with or without knowing it. Sometimes observing is the best classroom you'll ever sit in.
Friends see all that is within you and promote you to strive for the best. Besides your family they are your greatest cheerleader.

People are not perfect, some friendships have sprinkles of the above. Real friendships work those sprinkles out for the bigger picture.

If Brenda were here to read this she'd wonder when and where I picked all of this up from her. My answer to her would be, "observing, observing...".

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Antenna with Aluminum Foil... Reception VOID!

After 14 years of locing my hair I decided to get the scissors and be done with it. I've always viewed my locs as a form of antennae and have come to the conclusion that the reception is no longer clear.

These locs have been with me through the ups and downs; highs and lows. I believe they carry the weight of my strength and pain. Yet sometimes it is quite alright to let go - and that is just what I've done.

When I first began to loc, I was natural for about 3 months prior to doing so. My greatest regret is that I felt I loc'd too soon. That I should have enjoyed my natural hair with different styles prior to taking that leap into locs. However I wanted locs and had talked about having them at least 10 years prior to taking the leap, so the locs beat out me experiencing dealing with my natural hair. Well now I'm dealing with it, lol.

I wash it every other day and moisturize, moisturize and moisturize. I still want to cut more of it off, because approximately an inch of it is damaged from the weight of the locs and coloring. I'm almost a full month out of the locs and I really enjoy my hair. I sleep much better the weight and length of the locs do not have to be considered when sleeping. And I can't wait to start swimming on a regular again - with locs, it can be a task, at least it was for me.

Will I loc again? Of COURSE! I loved them. My soul will let me know when it is time to do so. Right now the my hair wants no constraints - it just wants to be free.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

If you are one that feels that Black Fathers are non-existent I feel for you, because mine was there. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he understood the importance of a Father to a Child & did what he could to be there. Knowing him like I do when he couldn't do all that he wanted to for us it hurt him deep, his tough exterior said otherwise, but he was a big softy on the inside & in no way COWARDLY.

He always told me when it was my time to choose my mate (as it is the WOMANS choice) always choose someone like him or better than him (he prefered better). I've made my mistakes, but what has always brought me back was that advice. So sometimes I'm tough on the brothers because I've actually seen what a man is supposed to be & refuse less than. But he also told me when you have that mentality the weak ones run... He ain't never lied!(or at least not about THAT, lol)

When child-support would dwindle his check to $11 take home - did he give up? No, he hustled LEGALLY, second job, painting houses, cutting grass & STILL provided a home for all of his children to come to & know one another - THATS A FATHER. He never cried "poor me" he knew what he created & made the best of it. THAT'S A FATHER.

Keep in mind, he had 5 daughters, 1 baby momma, 2 ex-wives and a current wife with two step-sons, not to mention playing a huge father role in children's lives that he did not create - so if anybody ever wanted to run, it should have been him - BUT HE DID NOT. Rest in Peace, Power and Prosperity Daddy - you more than anyone deserve that. Love you to the bone!

- originally written - Father's Day 2011

Sunday, May 13, 2012

What is Family?

What is Family? I ask myself that many times a day. This research of mine brings joy, heartache and surprises. However being the person I am I take it as it is.

I want to know because I NEED to know. If something beautiful can blossom from it I'm ready for it. If it is information that I am supposed to simply document, I'm fine with that too.

Last night I was texting with my Great Grandmother's Brother's Great Granddaughter, lol. So basically our Great Grandparents are siblings. Here you have two people seeking the same thing - knowledge of their ancestors.

But does that make us family?

The blood is there - but does that make us family?

We can talk about names and dates and locations - but does that make us family?

I say yes, because we do share all of that, however if we leave it at just that what will it really mean? You have all of this information that can explain how you came to be, well you - but once you get that what else is there?

I think about my relationship with my sister Kim. We share parents. When we turned 18 and out of the care of our parents we didn't have to speak to one another again. We didn't have to continue a relationship with each other as we were already family - nothing we could change about that. However if I had just left that girl alone when I turned 18 I would have missed out on a lifetime of joy and happiness, irritation and laughter.

Then in the same token I meet a neighbor at the age of 14 and we are arch enemies - as time goes on and we grow up and I realize I am the ying to her yang and it feels as if my mother birthed her too then she is my family. There is no blood there but the bond is not denied.

So I've come to the realization that Family is what you make it. Yes blood and ancestry is a major part - but if you do not work on what solidifies it, you miss out on so much.

My family is a gumbo - rich with all that makes it delicious. Some we see eye to eye and some well lets just say we really have to work on it. One thing I'm blessed in is loving unconditionally. I accept you for you - even if I don't like you, lol. You don't need to be like me. You don't need to think like me. That's all I ask is that you be you and lets work at it... Who knows? Maybe in time you'll be the ying to my yang...

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Remembering My Mother...

Lois Johnson 1964 (striped jacket)

This time of year is always a rough time of year; I lost my Mother on New Years Eve of 2000. However one of my Mother's oldest friends sent me a picture of them in 1964, my Mom was 16 years old. It feels like I'm looking into a mirror I look so much like her. This made my day and I know it will make the rest of this season all that much better.

I remember for almost two years after she went on I didn't look in the mirror because I wouldn't see myself I'd see only her. I totally forgot about that until I saw this picture today.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Occupy Movement.... Confused Feelings

Morning all...

As I do what I tell myself I shouldn't do in the morning (tune into the news) I can't help but speak up on this...

Port closure -West Coast...

I am a Customs Broker by profession. What that means is I am one of many people in the country that is an agent to Importers that processes their inbound shipments through Customs and various Government Agencies. Now once I do this work which is a headache one willingly jumps into, I have to send a trucker in to one of these ports to grab these containers to deliver to the final destination the Importer, my Customer.

Now I have many Customers, most of whom are small to mid sized businesses (35 and under employees) these are people that in spite of the economy refused to lay people off. All employees agreed to a shorter work week ( yes all employees) as the Importer has been very good to them over the years. One of the trucking companies I use instead of laying off their people laid off the OWNERS and THEY got 2nd jobs so they didn't have to lay any of the workers off.

They are the 99% too...

Now I support Occupy 100% however I think that in trying to prove an Occupy Point one should really check to see what they are doing to the 99% in the process. In some ways it makes you no better than the 1%.

Oakland Port has been suffering for awhile due to I don't know... Bullshit? What was once a vibrant port is turning into the step-child twice removed. But guess what? Shutting the port down doesn't help it. Taking the protest to the downtown Oakland streets where the decisions are made makes sense. Giving them the flybird on their doorstep will have a stronger effect than at the port - because they do not want their lawns dirty. They could give a damn what you do at the port - believe me. It's like the Rodney King verdict - tearing up your own streets when that shit should have been taken to Simi Valley.

Now I'm going to drag myself into this office and explain to my customers why they won't get their containers today and they will be just as conflicted as I am - they support the Occupy, but dammit they need to feed their families too. What was that, don't cut off your nose to spite your face?

Think about it...

Holla at me - always open to talking about it - but you know me I give as good as I get... Peace... PLEASE.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Words

I remember when I was approximately 13 years old, at home listening to music, I don't quite remember the actual song, but I remember my mother watching me as I listened to the music and I how I responded to it. Something about the way I responded to the music must have irritated her at some point because she turned down the stereo (yep, stereo) and asked me what I was listening to. I told her the title of the song and who was singing and thought that would be sufficient enough for her to turn the music back up. She asked me again, "what are you listening to?" My young mind had no idea what was going on with her, yep she had been sipping the sauce a bit, but I knew the difference between an intoxicated parent and one that was being serious. This one was being serious.

Thinking that possibly she didn't hear me the first time, I repeated it again. She had to hear me that time, so I reached for the dial to turn the music back up and she pushed my hand away. "What ARE you LISTENING to?" she asked again. A bit irritated myself but knowing how to keep it to myself I simply answered "I just told you what the song was and who was singing it".

She looked at me a bit perplexed and told me to put on Marvin Gaye's What's Going On album. I was very irritated then. I was doing just fine with what I was listening to, I sucked on my teeth and hid an eye roll as I did what I was told. My Mother used to drive me crazy with Marvin Gaye. I remember times when she would grab the album and I would have a full fit. Yes, cry and everything. See that Aries in me can be a spoiled brat at times because it wasn't what I wanted to listen to and she was doing this purposely to screw up my world.

So the first lyrics, "Mother Mother..." oh boy! Woo hoo... (12-13 year old sarcasm here). I sat there uninterested and she begin to sing the words with him (my Mother had a beautiful voice by the way). She turned the music down a bit and begin explaining to me how I needed to be very mindful on what I listened to. That music itself had a way of seducing you and you really don't pay attention to the message. So the music itself could be beautiful, but the words... The WORDS can be destructive, demeaning, unloving and when both are connected the seduction of the music makes the word gospel and who wants destructive, demeaning and unloving words to be Gospel?

I must have looked confused at what she was stating, because she then broke it down in layman's terms - "Before shaking your ass to the music, listen to the what they are SAYING first."

Something about that flicked on the lights. I finally listened to the album. Forget the 1000's of times prior to it being played in my lifetime as it is truly a part of My Lifetime Soundtrack, but I finally got it. No longer did I throw a tantrum when my Mother decided to play what I deemed "Her music". I played and listened to it with her. Asked her questions while the music told the story.

Yesterday taking my Godchildren home after them spending the weekend with me, I was subjected to KMEL from Foster City to Oakland. Aside from Outkast's Ms. Jackson all the other music spoke about beating the pu**y up, going raw, doing her and her friend and I'm being as PC as I can right now. I purposely listened to it to watch how my kids listened to the music. They didn't. They just bopped their heads to the music and probably would have danced had there been room in my Beetle. Now for that I'm grateful that it was a music thing, not a word thing. However - the seduction of the music I'm very fearful of for them and their young minds. They soak it up and do not realize what they are internalizing.

Next weekend... I'm going to have to have me a What's Going On discussion...

Words, very important. It is one the most important ways of communicating with one another. If the words aren't right, then we aren't communicating correctly. Yes it is entertainment and expression. Yet if while I was a young girl all I heard is about how I'm viewed as just ass and meat, wow... I cannot even fathom the thought. The best love songs have nothing to do with sex. The words... The words. Mere words. Can change the world.

What are YOU listening to?

Friday, October 21, 2011

If We Are Made In His Image...

I've been a bad one. Bad in the sense that I had planned on blogging along the way about the different things I've been experiencing while being more conscious of who I am and no longer running from who I am.

It may be somewhere on the face of this blog, but I live in Foster City, CA. Where I live in Foster City happens to be a high population of Asians. When my sister and I first moved here we noticed we were always being stared at or in some cases even being ran away from. To say that is offensive is putting it rather mildly.

We work hard and deserve the opportunity to live where we choose and right now we happen to like living in Foster City. It is 10min away from our respective work places; close enough to the San Mateo Bridge in case we need to make that quick East Bay excursion. So at this time in our lives, it works.

The situation where we were "ran" from, we were pulling into the garage of our apartment complex and this Asian family (father, mother, daughter of about 3 years old and a toddler in a stroller) happened to be walking towards the door that leads to the lobby of our apartment complex from the garage. The minute they recognized we were "different' they begin literally running to the door to hurry and get in and close it before we could get out of the car to get to the door. At first I didn't think anything of it, because it was mostly the little girl that kept staring, until I saw her mother snatch her and push her through the door and then the father who was wheeling the stroller behind them almost pushed the baby into the door and then turned his head to look at us and slam the door closed.

Now I'm going to be very honest here. When Kim and I looked at each other in amazement at what we just witnessed, because it wasn't just me that saw it. Instantly we wanted to bring East Oakland to Foster City. We get out of the car, grabbing our groceries, cursing and damn near spitting at what we just experienced and begin bringing up previous experiences that we've had while living here, not truly understanding the "why" of it all.

I'll say it again, we both work hard and deserve to live wherever we choose. We pretty much keep to ourselves, no drama comes from our particular address, you understand? So why are we being treated this way? I could go into a list of other things we've experienced, but I'll keep to this one.

Now back to what I've been experiencing lately and changes I've been making in my life will hopefully tie this all together. I've been meditating more, being more aware of life as a whole and my fit into it. I've had some situations in my life that left me feeling broken and finally decided to find my own peace my own way. So in doing that and trying to radiate as much love as I possibly can from this soul of mine and trying to walk as the Divine would walk. I've decided - that is the issue.

What I have failed to see about myself and my people others have seen it long ago, we just haven't seen it or have been aware of it. We radiate something that does cause fear. The fear of the Unknown and many can recognize the Most High, but are fearful of it. My soul tells me this, my soul that I'm finally listening to.

So the other day while getting into the elevator with another one of my neighbors, you could see she felt uncomfortable being alone in an elevator with me. I had grocery bags in my hand just as she did, both of us looking as if we had a hard day at work and just wanted to get in the house and relax, but the difference was her discomfort and more importantly my outlook on her fear. She should fear the Most High, but be respectful of it. So as my stop came before hers, I simply turned to her as I got off of the elevator and told her to have a great evening and get some rest. Offered her my most radiant of smiles and walked to my door. This time I wasn't angry or offended. I accepted my gift and walking in it finally. Ashe.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Random Thoughts

I've been going through and feeling some powerful things in the past few weeks. I wake at 4am to meditate/pray and simply be still. It makes for a better day seriously.

I've been trying not to let idiotic things irritate me as much because I know it isn't good for me. The main thing that always sets me off is when I feel people are being mistreated or unfairly. Yes I realize that I cannot fight the world's battles, but on the inside I want to give it the old College try. It always feels as if the deed is being done to me. I guess that is one of the many meanings of love, the ability to feel another's pain or the need to protect.

So it's a work in progress truly attempting at being Peace.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Sunday, October 9, 2011

When asked...

Why I'm still solo the answers are very simple.

Not looking for a father (had one).

Not looking for a dictator (sorry can't do it).

Not looking to be someone's mother (if you have that complex, I'm not the one)

And several others I can claim.

What I do want is a friend first that can blossom into something beautiful. Not worried about your financial status but need someone that is self sufficient.

With all of that said I need someone I can learn from and with as we build. A sturdy branch to my tree, not a leaf that will eventually float away.
-FE

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Friday, September 30, 2011

Restoration

In a previous posting I mentioned that I was detoxing and with that I've also been meditating daily beginning about 4:30am-ish for at least an hour after prayer attempting to detox my mind with all of the negativity that seems to be around me or the negativity I find myself involved with.

By no means am I a drama queen and if I confessed the negative forces I'm talking about, most would most likely reply, "is that IT??". The thing is, even the most minute form of negativity is draining to me.

Yet I am human and those I deal with are human as well so what can you do about it? Well I've found that by changing my thought processes about it and not judging it but using a positive shield or a positive outlook I'm actually de-touring the negativity or not giving it the power I used to give it even as minute as it may be. Although my tolerance for it is still low, my outlook is my weapon of defense.

See the picture of my plant. When I purchased this plant it was vibrant, now it has a bunch of dead leaves on it. (Mainly because I had it at work and damn near froze it to death). But since I've brought it back home I notice the dead leaves are still there, but it has more new leaves sprouting every day, vibrant, strong and tall. I like to equate that to myself. The dead is falling off (you have no idea how much) and life is showing itself and all is becoming brand new. I still have some nips and tucks to handle, but the outlook is positive and ready to live. Ashe.

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Sunday, September 25, 2011

Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 and the Beat Goes On...

A few weeks ago I posted a blog on the documentary Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 which actually ended up being my first vlog in some respects and lets just say I won't be going that route this time. It was interesting and hilarious to watch though. So I'll wait until I get that iPad2 video down before even attempting that again.

In any case I finally (finally) got a chance to see the movie in its entirety yesterday afternoon and if this were a thumbs up review I'd give it two thumbs up and a high five. If it were a 5 star review, it would get 5 w/ the plus sign behind it. It was a great documentary is basically what this sums up to.

There were areas that made me proud (The Black Panther HQ's), smile (recognizing the streets of Oakland), provoked thoughts (Stokely Carmichael & Angela Davis), laugh (Harlem's Black Book Store owner) cry and anger (heroin addicted babies and watching the effects of drugs on the Black community by design).

It gave me the adult visual needed to further put my childhood in perspective. I had the benefit of having parents that as much as they tried to hide things from me, they were very open about the things that they experienced in life. My Mother loved Oakland instantly, she came to Oakland at the age of 12, 1960-61 from East Liverpool, OH. She told me that racism in East Liverpool wasn't blatant, but that she did experience racism there but it wasn't an everyday occurrence compared to what my Father's experiences were in Winnsboro, LA. Not too long ago I got a chance to ask my Aunt the same question (my Mother's older sister) and she pretty much mirrored that thought, however her opinion is that there was no racism. Yet I know that there was just by some of the things she says and amazingly in some odd way she doesn't associate that with racism. All I know is when I visited East Liverpool last year I was stared at from the time I drove in until the time I drove out. I saw two people of color there and even they stared at me. Okay - maybe it is the locs who knows.

My Mother advised when she first came to Oakland, it was a culture shock as in the part of Ohio she was from, our family was one of the few African-American families there and coming to Oakland it had a larger African-American population; but let's keep in mind, East Liverpool is smaller than the smallest Bay Area city, so the population of Oakland alone had to be a culture shock. She remembered her first year being in Oakland as the hardest, the fighting, the being made fun of her "proper" way of speaking. Yet my mother was a fighter, so she gave as good as she got and eventually found her way and in the end if she were here and you asked her where her home was she'd always tell you Oakland.

My Father on the other hand, it was debatable. He arrived Oakland about the age of 13-14 after leaving Louisiana, as Nevada was his first stop from his birth state. He was a fish out of water as well and in the beginning he rebelled a bit, due to family circumstances, but if he were here to ask, he'd tell you both places were home for different reasons. I tend to believe because he had a strong family base in both places which differed from my Mother's experience - when her family left East Liverpool, they left East Liverpool so I sum this up to be that Family for sure is where the heart and home is.

My Mother shared with me her experiences as a teenager and young adult in Oakland and as a teenager she loved the feeling of being Black and she loved being around people that also felt that same way. I honestly feel that if she had stayed in Ohio she would have never gained that feeling as I see that is what is/was missing in her siblings. She told me how good Oakland made her feel, like she belonged, even with the problems that come with being a teenager, she belonged. She admitted that as an adult and right after she had me her drug of choice was popping pills "uppers". She advised then it was almost the norm as pretty much everyone did something, be it alcohol, drugs - something. She did this because she was always tired (most new mothers are) and wanted to care for me (as my father ended up being my care giver for the most part). So she went to using the "uppers" to keep her up and aware. She knew she needed to stop when she realized she changed my clothes a total of 24 times in one day. She couldn't understand why I kept crying, but when she hit that 24th mark she figured it out (and the only way she could keep up w/ the amount of times she changed my clothes is because she threw the outfits on the floor after she was done with them). She quit cold turkey and never returned to drugs.

My Father she advised dabbled in all types of drugs always the risk taker, but never really became addicted to anything until I was about one, which ended up being Heroin and pills. She believed that the reason he became addicted was due to a work injury where he lost the tip of his right pointer finger, up to the first joint. He was off work and had nothing to do (and recovering from his injury). So he would hang with his friends who were also on Heroin and they loved for him to be the one to shoot them up. She thought they were all idiots because he had just had his finger cut off and they wanted HIM to shoot them up, my Father was always precise so I guess it makes sense (in an ill way). She remembered people tapping on their West Oakland bedroom window 2-3am in the morning for him to shoot them up.

So as she was coming down off of the "uppers" she really started paying attention to what was going on with him. She started scaring off his late night customers and if you weren't family you weren't allowed in our home. If you were a family member with the drug issue you weren't allowed either. She didn't know how bad his addiction was, because he was functional. As I mentioned before he was my caregiver. I was a pre-pampers baby - which meant I wore cloth diapers. She said he would wash, air dry and iron my diapers (he didn't trust the diaper services). He made all of my bottles, washed, dried and ironed all of my clothes, bottles and anything else related to baby. If it were a Doctor's appointment my mother was just accompanying him, he asked all of the questions, took all of the notes. She told me right after I was born and before he would go to work, he would write her a list of things to do that day in regard to me and put it on the refrigerator. My feeding times, down to when to check my diapers. One would think because of all this my mother had no experience with babies (not true) but I was HIS baby and he wasn't taking any chances, not even with the mother of the child. She said he would call her every other hour, wanting to know had I eaten, used the bathroom, if I pooped was it healthy, etc. If he called and she didn't answer the phone, my Grandmother (his mother) would be knocking on the door in about 20min.

So as she stopped her choice of drug, she noticed how bad his had become, especially with him not working. She remembered watching him sleep and she'd count the needle marks in his arms. My Father was always a thin man, but she said he had become gaunt and you could see the bones in his face. One evening when he came home, she told him either he stopped or he had to go, it was no arguing, yelling just a simple fact - they created this life (me) and either he get it together or let it go.

He got it together - cold turkey. Or maybe I should say got it together, but changed the choice which ended up to be alcohol for both of them. Which once my Parents split, my mother conquered the battle of that shortly after, however it would end up being my Father's demise.

I tell this story, because it is one of the many thousands of Oakland, CA. I don't believe in "happily ever after", but I do believe in survival and survivors. My Parents, survived. I survived. It didn't break us. It did effect us, but it didn't break us. That is why Black is Beautiful, the strength is beautiful. The chameleon qualities are BEAUTIFUL. WE are Beautiful. Ashe.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Day 4

okay, yesterday was a bad day. slipped up a couple of times - BUT - back on track, starting the major detox on Monday. I just weighed myself and what is weird is I know my eating patterns had changed in the last month or so just because I haven't had a real appetite - 2 out of a 7 day week I'd be extremely hungry, the other days I'd eat just because I know I should. Well it appears if the scale is correct I lost 15lbs. That was without even trying. Now that I'm trying - let's see what will happen.

-F

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Day 3

not as full as I was yesterday morning - hungry actually - keeping it light, maybe a huge amount of fruit this morning...