violent and vivid detours

"If you've violently and vividly taken a detour from the lockstep of the beauty parade, no one can fault you for not being in uniform."


this was the best line from a CNN article i read on learning to love your nose, but it could be on so much more.  i broke down, phoned a friend, and hung up so much better.


friendship is such a delicate relationship.  and when they end, especially when they've lasted for so long, the damage can be surprisingly resonate.   i wondered if i were a good person, a good friend.  it had to be my fault, i mean, i am admittedly not a phone person.  perhaps i should have called more.  


but my friend, my so-much-more-than-a-friend friend said something along the lines of:


"you have never put energy into anything fake.  you may talk around with and play with something new, but sooner or later when you realize its just not right/real, you leave it be.  and that speak so positively and so loudly about the beauty of your character."


thank you. so. much.


i am a good person. i do care.  no, i don't call all the time, but damnit, that doesn't mean i don't care - it just means I'm going to love seeing you that much more then next time we do meet.  
i appreciate people - i know the people that i love are amazing people, and i hope they know just how big of a fan i am of them.


so i will stop tolerating negativity - better yet, i will interrupt it whenever i experience it with positivity.


i'm going to go snuggle with my son, then go to bed.  sigh.  its 10 minutes of a new day - this is such an awesome way to begin it.


smile.

the last few months to summer break are always the most difficult months to stay motivated... and recently its been harder and harder to find the meaning that motivates me to do A+ work.  Like tonight, I was a B+/A- mommy; did m's hair, but didn't do any learning activities.  had healthy food, but they were definitely leftovers.

then he had the meltdown of all meltdowns.
i mean snot, kicking, shaking, some screaming...

and here is where i know i was dropped on my head as a kid...


i thought it was hilarious.
absolutely hilarious.

at first, for like 20 seconds, i was angry. then shocked for about 2 seconds.  then i couldn't stop laughing.

that right there - the laughing - is what i think lowered me to a B+.

fast forward.

began to grade a few papers - i just couldn't do it.  it was too painful.  smh

moving on.

finally emailed a few of the people back on the dating website (gasp) that i joined.  but really, i am starting to believe my friends who continue to assert that i am really not going to find a guy, especially a guy of color, in my town.... when you write your entire profile IN ALL CAPS... or u mispell words in an attempt to be kool...or you pose with other women in your profile pictures then crop the photo like idk, i can't tell that you cropped out someone will long/curly/blonde hair and half a boob

...

perhaps
its just time for me to Pinterest until Big Bang. Yep.  That's what I'm going to do.

i'm trying to pull it back together

but nightime has always been difficult for me.
perhaps its just because there is nothing left to distract me.
not a good night, to say the least.
please include me in your prayers.
i'm sure i'll be fine in the morning, just because i have to be.

it's not the crutches we decry
it's the need to move forward
though we haven't the strength
-nikki g.

and the point will be...

1.  another conversation. another request for state/local/federal aid.  more 'maybe's.  more pep talks to self in the car to "shake it off, t."  "have faith, t"
well.
my soul fucking hurts, God.
and don't tell me it could be worse, because i know it could be worse.  I can imagine even how it could be a little worse, and i am afraid of the unimaginable.  i get it.
but.
this.
shit.
hurts.
God.

2. "there isn't a lesson to learn from this... i've been in real estate for years, t, and this isn't a lesson - this is a fluke.  this shouldn't have happen.  and i keep asking you about the progression because as your real estate agent, I'M still trying to learn something!  Have you learned anything yet?"
"no"
"me either."

thank you; i needed that validation.
smile.

3. m and i seem to still be connected - i'm trying to be up, he's feeling that i'm down.  and stays connected to me ALL evening - literally.  he ate dinner holding me.  watched thomas laying on my chest.  sat next to the hooded dryer as i deep-conditioned my hair.  he's asleep in my bed.

4. i see this commercial - yay for laughing.  feeling a little better.

5. he found some job leads in cleveland.

.

the things i never told you

i am too good for you.

i don't think you are really my friend.

i really do miss you - why can't... why aren't you where you should be in life?

i'm so proud of you, but we'll never be on the same level - does that make me an elitest?

you embarrass me sometimes.

i wish you were never born.

what happened to our friendship?

the reason you have no complaints about me is because i cater to you. i let you have your way.

why aren't you proud of me?

once again, love saves the day

not that this is new, but i am beginning to question my judgment.

"this was a good decision - to buy a home - you just bought a bum home."

I know that everything seems bleaker than it is when you are down.  but i was still surprised that for the first time, m's laugh...didn't resonate as loudly as it normally does.

that's when i knew i was getting pretty low.
and the spiral began.  thinking of all the moments i thought were good ideas, seemed like good ideas, conventional wisdom would seem to suggest that
these were
good
ideas.

but then
i came back.

because my best idea, my best investment, was sitting right there in the tub.  pretending to be a fish.  and even if it was a bad investment to be with his father, it was the best decision of my life to have him.

and things started to turn around.

i wish i had the words to express that feeling - its such much higher, cleaner, purer than the "being in a relationship" love.  snuggled with m on the couch, his fresh baby-lotioned browness, and i think back to when he was in utero, and how all of my best went to him.  and i want nothing in return, yet i get so much.

there is a lesson in there somewhere.

its just the kind of love i can't compare to the boyfriend/girlfriend crap.  the one-sided conversations of recent dates.  the banality of the "what black women need to do is..." argument

once again, and i wonder why i am single.

i just won't settle for anything less.  now that i know love, i can't take/give any generics.

elegy to black love (sometimes it feels this way)

"baby.
i recognize that you have been intimidating to those in power, and that you have systemically been denied the right to shine.  to work. to be the man in the house.  and so i,
i mean we,
black women have stepped in to be the breadwinners, not because we wanted to, but because we had to.  and i,
i mean we,
have held that position demurely, and humbly.  when did you forget that we would gladly let you step up if you would just step up?
I only want you to 'pay my bills' because you should manage the finances in the home.
i would happily 'play my place' when you can assume your rightful place as man.

why are you so angry at me baby?

i, we, have always loved you.  i have always seen the second sun in your smile.  i have always praised your beautiful brown skin.

i am only wearing the pants until you put yours on.

my sassiness is why you love me.

but you are leaving me,
us.
so quickly. and dragging my name in the street, and on BET, and on the airwaves, when all i have done is support you.  rubbed your feet.  cook your dinner.  change the diapers, even though i was the one coming home from work.
i did all the work
around the house.  lovingly. but i guess my hair wasn't straight enough?  so i weaved it up.
my nose thin enough?  so i got a nose job.
my skin wasn't light enough?  so i used lighteners.
but my ass was fat enough;
thank you for the compliment."

restoration of a purer ideal

i would like to reclaim the word orgasm.

it's become this nasty, guttural thing.  That's just not fair.

you are probably thinking that i just had an orgasm, prompting me to ruminate on its attributes.  see what i mean?  tsk. tsk. tsk.

orgasms should not be limited to sex - it is the height of emotion.  ecstatic joy.  i don't feel this just during sex.

for example.

for your information, i just finished reading the lover's dictionary  - a quirkily good little book, but the orgasm came not in reading the book, but completing it.  there is nothing (for me) like starting something and actually finishing it.

perhaps this is why i am single.

or like eating - there is nothing like the "foreplay" of buying the ingredients, knowing they are destined for some sumptuous loveliness.  Then prepping - washing hands, cleaning the kitchen only to dirty it again.  and you know its coming when you are cooking and you reach that point in the recipe where you diverge from the words on printed page to smells, sights, and sounds - it becomes so visceral that of course it can only become better from here.  

i have to pause.  got a little heated there. 

you know what?

its the g.   

its the letter g in 'orgasm' that lends the word to that voyeuristic feel. that "back-of-the-porn-store" sensation.  perhaps the o shares a bit of the blame as well.

i can't even put any labels on this post.  shame.  such a shame. 

thank you, MacBookPro, with your unobtrusive backlit keyboard, your ready availability as soon as i open the lid.  a wee-hours bloggers dream.

finishing up the day

a new chapter may be opening in the near future - let's see how this goes.

started re-reading Nella Larsen's Quicksand.  The opening is the most beautiful description I've ever read -  I am literally in the scene.  So much inspired that I actually began writing my idea of a movie/book/thing... once again, let's see how this goes.

today was a little rough - its hard being a single mommy at times.  for example, after going to visit dad @ work (yay for re-employment) around 5p i:

pressed m's and I's clothes
lined him up
sang (and did) the clean up song
bathed both he and I
put away the laundry (i absolutely HATE putting away laundry.  not sure why.  just do) and refolded the
clothes in his drawer
check in with friends
pulled out the fall clothes for me and m
cooked dinner - choo choo train mac n cheese
ate - and fed m since the broccoli in the bowl paralyzed his ability to eat
cleaned up the kitchen
de-gunked the food processor
painted my nails

and not all in that order.  but all by myself.  that's the sucky part.  a little tired, i am.


i should go ahead and get this out - again -
i really am happy for all those in love, getting married, and all that goodness but
DANG
is EVERYBODY getting engaged or married this year?!?  I mean really?!?!

!?!??!



at least I own my bitterness aloud.

smile.  night.

best when sick

there is a list of things to do before bed with a sick little one:

• drugs or no drugs?  Nothing worse than the little one waking up in the middle of the night.  if i can give a decongestant that will get him through so his body can rest, i am all about it.

• vicks.  everywhere.  Company I wish i would have invested in before i became a mommy - pampers, vicks, neosporin.  i have the vicks vaporizer with water, the vicks waterless vaporizer, the babyrub, the adult vicks rub... and of course since he's in the mommy bed tonight - what is it about the mommy bed that makes everything better? - my room emanates Vicks. a cloud of medicated goodness.  and of course im old school - vicks on the back, on the chest, and a little hint from my italian colleague - a little on the feet with some socks.  hey, if you told me to stand on my head and whistle twinkle twinkle little start to a samba beat i would, if it made my itty bitty feel better.

did you ever realize twinkle twinkle little star is the same beat as the alphabet song?  go ahead, sing em.

• the last big blow.  I did not know such a little body could produce so much snot AND spread it everywhere.  its on the couch.  on my pillow.  on the bedsheet.  and on God knows how many of his blocks.  but we do the last big blow, prop his head up on three pillows, and hope for the best.

there is something about a sick baby that puts me right back into mommy/infant mode.  but i got to thinking about my mommy - the alcohol rubs, the time she took off work, the quiet love she gave.  my mom isn't an overly affectionate hugger, but i loved her strong, secure hands rubbing my back.  i think that alone made me feel better.  and i realize how lucky i am to have a mommy - a real mommy, who put me as a top priority.  not ever mommy does that.

2 pts if you're a real mommy. 1 pt if you're not but you are working hard to get there.

time for me to check on him.  its these moments when i just feel my heart beating, my eyes getting a little moist... i'm such a sap for my son.

smile.

pulling a Dumbledore

been reading rumi and waking up at five in the morning to meditate
it hasn't been an overnight change, but i am starting to feel
at peace
with whatever

-----

been cooking really well the past few weeks - veggie cheese risotto, herb stuffed salmon, and tonight - thyme and lime chicken (marinated for 24 h) in butter.  cause butter taste good.  m gets to eating and lets out the biggest belch i've ever heard a two year old conjure up.  he replies
"ooo, mommy.  dinosaurs."

I am excited that we are getting to that stage of clarity - i think that kids from around the age of 2 -5 are the most wisest (yes. most wisest.) people on the earth.  they make the best observations of the world around (and in) them.  they really are quite profound - and hilarious.  M thinking the belch was a dinosaur really made me lol.

smile.

____

i've been a little frustrated lately - unable to make a decision about what to do about m's dad.  part of me is just saying stop answering the occasional calls.  if he doesn't want to be a full time dad, don't let him waste m's time.  he's given all of maybe $100 since he left last november.  called maybe 20 times.  30 max.  is it my problem that he doesn't know how to be a dad AND doesn't want to listen?  what do i do? I am not "one of those" who calls constantly.  cusses him out.  i just don't have the energy for that - those women have too much time on their hands.  I definitely don't hate him - that would mean i still loved him.  and i don't.  there is just this empty ambivalence towards his existence.  somewhere in the back of my mind, i am aware he is alive somewhere on this earth.

and me and m just keep moving forward.


-----

i just needed to get all the random thoughts out.

_____

me and m were sick this weekend.  casualties of being a teacher - with all the "I missed you Ms. C" hugs, i get all the summer germs.  so it hit friday after work.  saturday, worsened in the evening.  Sunday - full blown snottiness, KILLER headache, and some serious narcoleptic periods.  M was a champ  - putting his little blanket on me and patting my back, then..

achoo.
toddler snot everywhere.
he caught it, too.

crawled up in my arms and went to sleep - i know he's feeling bad when he does that.  laid him down - two hours later i hear that scream. that "mommy-i-can't-breathe-this-sucks" yell.  we both just laid on the couch holding each other.  me blowing into his mouth to get all the snot out his nose

yea, they don't tell you about that in sex ed class, huh- that when your kid can't breath, blow in his mouth to clear his nose.  yep, that means there is snot on your lip; but your kid can breathe.

there's some natural birth control for you.

me downing ibuprofen to get rid of the sledgehammer at the back of my head.  its only in those moments that i feel the familiar smolder of ... anger?  disappointment?  betrayal? of m's dad not being here to help.

damn.

my dirty little secret

m's naptime is  a glorious moment in my day.  its one of few, if only, moments where i can relive a brief taste of the selfishness of before-baby days.  not that i miss them; i cherish these times even more having experienced them fully for so many years to only be left with brief moments such as this 3 hour block on any given day.

and today was made even more pleasurable - we went to the park, played to our hearts content, came home for lunch, and he was out like a light.  i too decided to lay down after starting a few pages of the new novel i picked up from the library, The Intuitionist by Colson Whitehead, only to be woken by the light tappings of my neighbor's hammer against his newest project, whatever it may be.  having slept just enough time to be rested but not enough to be tired, i rose from bed, shut my son's window - he's still sleeping.

wonderful :-)

i don't know if this happens to anyone else, but as soon as i wake from a midday nap, i always want to snack.  even more pronounced today thanks to the wonderful cycle of building/purging that my uterus embarks on monthly, i bee-line to the freezer.  sitting, beckoning from the top shelf was a wonderful 1.5 quart of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

yes. was.
let me explain.

i am lactose intolerant.  but i love chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream - not for the ice cream, oh no, but for the cookie dough chunks.   happening upon a chunk, i extract it with the precision of a surgeon from the mounds of vanilla ice cream and chocolate chips, feeling a rush of elation as i tug it free.  i examine it's shape and size,  then allow the spoon to deposit its contents in my mouth and let my tongue do things that would be x-rated to detail in this blog.  dear god, its almost sinful how wonderful this process is for me.  it always melts smoothly, releasing this creaminess of half-baked-cookie-dough that satiates just enough until i find the next chunk, then the process repeats.  over and over and over...

and today, i ferreted every chunk out of 1.5 quarts of ice cream.  i just couldn't stop myself.  and it was sooooo good. what did i do with the rest of the ice cream?  dumped it down the sink.

yep, that's how i roll.  pure, unbridled selfishness - didn't leave any for m.  didn't think about "wasting" the rest of the ice cream.  i took what i wanted, discarded the rest as flippantly as if i didn't pay $4 just for some cookie dough.

mmm, it was amazing.

how are you

amidst the loudness and 

unexplainable sounds

I am learning how to carve my niche of sanity.

music

and raw ingredients

Seem to calm me down in a quiet way

I just need a little bit of quiet.

In this sunset kitchen, the dog lays on the floor

My son plays peacefully, always within delicate reach 

a touch here, a hug there - 

he is so reassuring

We have all found our balance

Our auras in harmony

I am learning to cook without a recipe

To let the foods talk to me

To taste

To smell 

To listen

And let the textures teach me what they most like

the cravings for arms/hands and warmth are no longer

as 

biting;

maybe this is what growing up means.

I am learning to appreciate help

To listen to wisdom

Without neglecting my truths

However imperfect

God doesn’t work in mysterious ways

He just does what needs to be done

Giving you the space

To figure out how to be a better you

I am deep sighs

Happiness and melancholy

On a beautiful precipice

Muffled meanings drowning in the raucousness of being twenty-something

I pluck them and drink;

They nourish me.

How are you? they ask.

I’m getting there.

late night posts: the realest thing i've ever wrote

got a flashback to my birthday... and that weekend... and although it was fun, i wish i could have been then who i am becoming now.  like, i wish you could read this and realize that yeah, i was who i was then because of what i was going through, but that's not all that i could be.  i wish i had a chance to say more - not quite sure why, just wish i did.

---

my most recent prayers:

God, please help me be who i am in my my honest hours at all times

God, please keep me in the moment

God, please help me with this patience thing - apparently its a quality you intend for me to have

---

who knew loneliness could be this damn lonely?  who knew friendships post-structured settings (school) would come so randomly?  but a part of me is telling me not to worry - that my need is not based in reality (but the pain is so gnawingly painful, God).  that all good things are in my future (thanks ricky).      


---

"you are going through so much.  and each is so weighty and massive, t.  anyone who doesn't understand why you don't call, especially now, doesn't deserve to be called 'friend'".
thank you so much for that - i thought it was just me.

---

some people i really just shouldn't have re-befriended.  some things maybe should have been left as they were.  some things should have an 'easy' button, while others wouldn't have been as good as they are if they did.  and some i need to re-friend instead of just reading their facebook page every once in a while.

ever feel that way?

this isn't all - i just don't have the words yet to quantify all this tumult.

i needed this

i walked into my mother's house, caked with the dirt of our field trip to the garden.  i was exhausted, and granted a brief reprieve to shower while my aunt watched m.  i scrubbed, soaped and emerged a cleaner but still tired me.

then lo and behold.

my macbook pro had arrived.  a week early.

i needed this.

i truly believed in reincarnation, and in a previous life i am sure i was a true QUEEN* (two snaps and a circle).  i know this because when i realized the large package on the table belonged to moi, i screamed, did a little dance as i explained my instant energizing joy to onlookers.

*I definitely believe in past lives.  i am sure i died in the civil rights movement, lived in India, and was a gay, white interior decorator named Franz.  Franz actually visits frequently, hence the awesome color scheme in my home - i definitely couldn't have done that as the current me.

 i am still not in my house, but at least it will be the most watertight home on the street by the time its all over.  i got my new macbook pro, which makes me oh so happy to have my own computer.  this is the funniest story i have read in a while (please check the pictures).  my son and i are going to dinner in a few, and i can't wait for our date.

yay me :-)  yay life :-)

( if you don't have a macbook pro, then you don't have a macbook pro.)



(i had to say it!!  the commercial is so true!!!!!)

woooo Lord...

"I always thought insanity would be a dark, bitter feeling, but it is drenching and delicious if you really roll around in it."


— Kathryn Stockett (The Help)

 
it's been that kind of hour/day/week/month/year.  Feel free to substitute length of time as applicable.

proving that skinny girls can cook, one dish at a time

i'm finally beginning to feel better - even in the face of my wall-cave-in-catastrophe.

perhaps its because i am in a place that nurtured me from birth, around women who have cared for me since they've known me.   my mother's kitchen is a welcoming place, so no wonder my love of cooking is slowly coming back.

on tonight's menu:  herb-crusted pork loin, bacon and mozzarella mashed potatoes, and veggies
playlist - itunes genius mix based on "love ultra" by dwele

crusting the pork loin - salt, pepper, and ... seasonings. i cook by smell, so i just grab, sprinkle, and smell. mixed a little wine and water and poured beneath, so it has something to hydrate it while baking.

m cooked his own meal, using his animal puzzle
pieces

potatoes on the boil - i don't do the flakes; gotta have the real thing

m was excited when he saw they camera

bacon and mozzarella

mixing in the goodness



yeah, nothing fancy here - but they sure are tasty, delicious and nutritious



the cooked loin - yay!  so tasty!

the new moscato - chenin blanc

so i had a consultant... its not really cheating cause she's my grandma, is it?  :-)

turned out pretty tasty - yay for good cooking!  dessert - gourmet cupcakes from baked and wired cause it takes a special kind of "inspiration" to make truly great food :)

re(memories) towards a familiar future

a toast to them, a toast to us




to kp-
who would call mornings, on the way to school, at school, during class, after school
just to see what’s crackin’.
to spontaneous love
only the way teenagers can make.
to catching the bus 45 minutes to see me
every day
of every week
even on sundays

(and you know how the bus runs on sunday).

To his family who accepted me for who I was -
to not being called weird.

i want a love that wants to love

that accepts as much as it desires.

to cb –
who bought me a gift
hanging it on the rearview mirror
daring to shine as brightly in the sun
as his smile.
to walking in the park
and talking in images.
to cooking great food
and getting the cat high.

i want a love that offers everyday gratitude
that revels in unselfish joy, and creates comfort in its nooks and crannies.

to ao'h –
who remembered.
who made me a birthday cake – from scratch
who flew me in a plane – so that i could see the city
who made reservations in the best restaurant with the best view – because i love food
who had coffee and cake for desert – because i mentioned i loved coffee once, six months previous
to a man who I pray to this day finds the girl who can love him
as much as he deserves
plus some.
To hope, for hopeless romantics.

i want a love that i can’t believe exist

that is still there, even after I pinch myself.

to ta –
whose kisses under the basketball court lights made me see sound
but were nothing
compared to the kisses later that night.
To honesty.

i want a love whose simplicity belies its passionate complexities

i want a love that makes me simmer before I erupt.

to ed –
a college grad
who made could make love, have sex, and fcuk – in one session - and that's no easy task
who knew my body better than i did
and took unbridled pleasure in exploring it with me.
who lack of self-consciousness
made it all so. much. fun.
who understood the importance of a compliment.
who massaged me until i fell asleep on even my worse night.
To forthrightness and acceptance.

i want an educated love

who will make me his lifetime’s best work

to tt –
who read my textbooks for fun.
who worked to better himself.
who could listen to music from sunup to sundown
and knew the difference between
Miles and Coltrane (thanks, jm)
who made grey days bright.
who wasn’t afraid to give me a key.
To the shared consciousness that is music

I want a musical love

Whose dynamics are timeless.

To cm –
Who made me laugh.
Who knew the power in a great tasting meal.
Who wasn't afraid to dance in tighties.
Who gave me my best joy in life - who gave me my best supporting role.
To intentional love.

I want a love that can be inherited

That will be told in future generations.

To you –
Whom I have yet to meet
But who I wouldn’t recognize
Had it not been for them.

sick/and tired

left work early today because i am feeling so very ill ...  definitely wish i had somebody to a)whine to and b)take care of me and the house - you know, finish the laundry, put up dinner, and all the other little stuff that i really don't feel up to doing but still need to be done.  that's the sucky part about being a single mom (and there really aren't many, thank goodness) is that i have to be the adult and do all this mess... even when i am sick.. i still haven't gotten out to plow the driveway (and i don't think imma do it)

but laying under my new ikea duvet makes it all better :) 

and if i could figure out how to split the directv cable to the bedroom, i could watch tv in bed, making this doubly enjoyable :)

.....

i was once asked where earwax comes from, and i responded its the body's way of blocking bullish that we hear everyday.  guess this explains why i've run out of qtips - what the deuce is going on in the world?  unions are losing their rights, pensions are getting sucked away, folks are rebelling via facebook and twitter, Gov. Kasich (why oh why was he elected?  oh yeah, cause i live in a state with a bunch of...)  is all "screw ALLL of yall - imma do what i want and keep working on getting rid of the middle class so that the rich can stay rich and the poor can become our servants bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"    and then the proposed funding cuts of npr (my pesonal crack), education (cause we don't care about our children, just about blowing up insurgents in the mountains of afghanistan), and my personal favorite, planned parenthood.

 - mounting my soap box -

firstly, if men got pregnant/had periods, then this wouldn't even be an issue.  as t1 said, if men experienced periods, one week off per month with pay would be standard at every job.  if they messed up and accidently ended up pregnant, then i  bet not only would abortions be covered by insurance, but there wouldn't even be a copay.

but they don't.  so here i stand - my ability to make decisions about my body are being sucked away by old people with penises who supposedly represent my interests.  awesome.

secondly - i love all the layers of this argument.  abortion is an intensely personal decision that stays with you for the rest of your life.  please read "the lost baby poem" by gwendolyn brooks.  please escort these women past people they don't know but who feel entitled enough to blurt hate at them into the clinic, and watch them sit alone - although they didn't get here alone - in those waiting rooms.  watch them, fidgety hands unconciously rubbing their soon to be empty wombs.  Enter the surgery rooms with them where they stick the cold metal duck bills between, vacuum out the one-night-stand, the oh-shit-the-condom-broke, the but-we-already-have-two-kids-dear, the i-really-do-want-you-little-one-but-just-not-now-so-please-come-back-later-please.  hold their hand as they walk, wombs weeping blood in your grandmother's-sized pads into the waiting room.  hold the big white cups for them as they vomit, due to the sedatives given to numb the physical pain.  follow them back to their apartments, homes, condos - and watch them continue life, unable to talk to too many for fear of being judged.

thirdly - so she keeps the baby - and becomes the statistic.  and is still judged.  what could be more humbling than standing in line to plead for help because even though i work/am a college grad/am in school/trying to better myself i can't afford to provide for my son/daughter because i have money but not wealth/its a recession/my man can't get and keep a job/, so could you please help me? 

okay, i'm done. apparently idle hands make me a thougthful girl.

 - stepping down -

back to "modern family"

la-la-la

im amazed that i can be falling in love with no one but myself - not in the conceited Kobe Bryant kinda way, but in a learning to love all of me period so i can love someone else eventually period kinda way.  somersault by zero 7 just snuck up on me the way any good song does, then lookin' for another pure love by stevie wonder came and sat next to us, and here we are, harmonizing. 

i was told once, when i was going through a rough time, that you have to allow yourself to feel all the emotions, not just the good ones.  but this feeling of pure contentment and happiness is so overwhelming, i don't think i can contain it all

 :)

i am in love with love.  with the idea that we can see ourselves in others, outside of ourselves, within ourselves and allow for that harmony.  that i can capture that feeling with music and share it with someone else - no words, just the feeling

...
 fam

i love how you laugh with me at only 2 weeks old

 such a beautiful bad -ass

t1 t2