Can’t Win for Losing

Yet… another strange dream.

Where I pick this dream up is that a bunch of people I know, mixed company from all the walks of my life, are getting together for some kind of a party…. game night… beer night… watch tv at a bar night – something non monumental and E and I have decided to go. So we’re getting ready to go and there’s all this debate between he and I about which car to take. I, unusually, am lobbying HARD to take both cars. And in my dream mind I’m positive this is the right thing to do because if I don’t, I’m pretty positive that I’ll be trying to find a ride home at the end of the night. Obviously in this dream, Earl is someone who might flat leave me (which is furthest from reality). But I win the argument and we take both cars but now he’s on a mission to make SURE that we don’t come home together. He’s on the phone calling the male persons in our get-together party and trying to set up “after” party activities – namely drinking and hitting the strip club. (Now I’m POSITIVE that I’m dreaming because … like… not Earl in real life… like not never. Not drinking. Not strip clubbing).

So we get to the club and it’s a pretty decent club – nothing amazingly shocking or anything. And it looks like we have a full house and as I’m looking around, I see a lot of people from my life who might have been a part of it at one point, but not as a main character. You know… the ones that were always around in the hall at school or hanging out in the game room at the dorms or work in a different department than you at work and you say hi in the halls — but not necessarily the ones that you’d invite to your wedding or expect to see there by your side in times of need. But this particular room was filled with those characters for my life and all age appropriate. The folks that were there from Elementary school were about 35 and looked as they do now. The folks from HS and College and work… were all their proper age. Playing pool, having beers, chatting it up and away. Seemed like a prety okay night for the most part.

At one point I start looking around and can’t find Earl. And when I start to seek him out, some of my friends begin to put up some chaff and flare for him, distracting me and trying to make me change my focus. I see what’s happening so I don’t petition too hard to find him and decide that maybe it’s better to just do something else. So I grab 2 friends – Li’l Vic and Mani (my co worker) and we go to the corner Bodega which seemed to be juiced up like a 7-11 – it was bright inside and stocked heavily with everything. Mani comes over and asks me to borrow a dollar. I reach in my pocket and pull a rather tattered one out. As I try to hand it to her she points to a case behind me of lottery tickets and tells me to buy the Mega Millions Scratch off (or something along those lines). So i purchase it and turn around to hand it to her. She hands me a nickel to scratch off the area. I do and it reveals “CONGRATULATIONS!! YOU’VE WON THE 1 MILLION DOLLAR GRAND PRIZE!!!” I start to get very excited and I show Mani and she snatches the card out of my hand with glee and starts parading up and down the aisled – “I WON! I WON!” she’s exclaiming. And I stand there watching her wondering… wait… it was my dollar… I even scratched it off…. And I feel a brood coming on. She comes dancing back over to me and says “Well??? What do i do?” I remember from my very limited knowledge of lottery that you have to give it to the store owner for verification and possible pay out because the store gets a cut as well for being a winning location. So we hand it to the store clerk who looks at he ticket and looks at us and then at the ticket again and says that he won’t be able to give it to her in cash – she’ll have to accept a check for now. She shrugs and says, “Well can you write it out for $100 less and give that to me in cash? ” The clerk shrugs and says “Why not”. Still wrestling with the idea that it was my dollar and I scratched the ticket, I ask Mani if I can hold some money till pay day on Friday. And she gives me a screw face and announces that she MUST have it back by Friday. Now, I’m annoyed. “Damnit, girl… it was MY dollar you asked to borrow to get the ticket!!!” And she says “Yes… so you’ll owe me one dollar less on Friday when you pay me back”. (Editors Note: Mani in real life is NO WHERE NEAR this catty and horrible. She’s the friendliest, sweetest girl EVER). So she instructs the bodega guy to make it 200 and hands me $100 that I slide into my pocket and begin making plans for and accounting it in my head for removal from my check funds on Friday.

We head back to the club and she’s really low key about winning and we’re all still hanging together when my elementary school friend Rossana comes up to me and says, “I hope you drove, honey… cause you’re husband left a WHILE ago with the guys to hit the strip club…. You look tired.” And I nodded that I was. And now I was hurt as well.

I gradually woke up and had this song in my head. (sometimes the songs are related… and sometimes not…)

Strange Dreams (again)

Last nights dream was bizarre, but I’m beginning to think that’s the only kind of dreams alloted to me lately.

I was visiting a friend (who by what she looks like in the dream… I’ve never seen or met this woman before in real life). And her house is far out in the suburbs of either Long Island or New Jersey. BIG, spacious beautiful house on expansive land. I dare say the house nearly qualifies as a mansion with it’s “east” and “west” wings and green house in the back where she seemed to like to spend so much time that there was a little tea table and chairs set up right on the edge of it so she could watch her garden grow. During this particular visit, this friend tells me, it’s not her house… it’s her recently departed Father’s house. She was sure that he left it to her in his will and she was looking for what to do with it next after the Will reading would take place next week (in the dream, of course). It was too much house for just her and she knew that it would just be another point of argument for her and her 10 siblings who’ve been methodically rationing out everything to themselves in their heads in lieu of the reading of the will. But she had an understanding with her dad and knew he’d leave the house up to her.

She proceeded to give me a tour of this house. It was VAST. Huge foyer, stairwell, living room area, parlour and dining room. A Kitchen with an island and huge storage freezer and mexican tile floors. The basement, which was the only part i didn’t love was furnished but there seemed to be a pre existing issue with flooding that was apparant to me. Then the up stairs. Off to the side of the living room area, there seemed to be some loft stairs that led to a full level the size of the living room area, unfurnished but finished and ready to be lived in. It had a separate entrance. In the dream I think… this would be perfect for Domi… And THAT area had an upstairs (so it was a duplex apartment within the house). And the upstairs portion had a kitchen, parlour, living room – was completely furnished in cherry wood and blue carpeting. There was even a bar in the corner parlour. And then I knew it’d be perfect for Domi to entertain and have get togethers and genuinely enjoy his life. I found myself really wanting the house and feeling that pang of envy / admiration for folks that have their own thing that way and subsequently brushed it off as I always do, knowing I’ll have mine – it’ll just take a little more work and I’ll have what I always wanted.

We get back down to the garden parlour and she laments to us (Earl and I) how she’d just like to get rid of the house. She doesn’t want to deal with agents and real estate brokers. So I ask her, what’s the going rate for the house. And her eyes light up. “Victoria? you’d want the house?” And I say, “Well, who wouldn’t? It’s gorgeous… but who can afford it?” And she begins to smile and muse in her chair like she just hit the jackpot. “Victoria – if you want this house, I’ll meet you at your price point. You name it… it’s yours!” Taken aback I dismiss this as a joke and shake my head. It’s impossible that such a deal could be presented to me so casually. She stands up and sticks her hand out, “I mean it, Victoria. It would give me no greater pleasure than to have you be the recipient of this house.” I stand up and we negotiation (Mostly her telling me) that she’ll sell me this expansive house for $5000. And I can’t believe it. Tentatively she says, “we just have to go to the will reading tomorrow and all will be solidified.” I try to hold back my hopes but in my mind I’m making plans for every room already. A house… one of my very own…

The will reading takes place in the blink of an eye and in it, my friends father decrees that the house shall be left to be divided amongst all the siblings. Citing how many years of memories took place… all the bickering and backstabbing that took place in the house should also be the demise of the house. “Good riddance,” he says, “to you all and your argumentative natures. Have one last great fight on me.” Almost instantaneously, all 10 siblings get up and start arguing. Sitting there with Earl and Dominic, I shake my head and say “There will be no resolution of this today or anytime in the near future. Our search continues…” And we stand up and walk out of the door past the flailing arms and hands on hips and elevated voices.

And I wake up with this song in my head.

*

1 Year

Hi Li’l Mommy.

I thought I’d write to you today since it’s been a year that you left. I don’t want to take up too much of your time because I know that the afterlife is great for you. I’m positive of this because of the amazing works you did while you were here. I have to KNOW that you’re enjoying your rewards more than ever. But you are deeply, terribly missed.

… every time I write that I just stop. I don’t know what else to say. I’m confined by the strictures of language to express something that would only properly be articulated by me falling to my knees and screaming at the top of my lungs to the point of exhaustion. But that would be pretty harrowing. It’s the sound of this whirling wind pillar of emptiness that is always there now in the middle of my being. I find myself pushing it aside all the time so I can function normally. So that I don’t melt into tears all the time… or sob at silly family oriented commercials. It’s natural for me to miss you so. I know how much you missed Granny when she passed. (Tell her I said hello and thank her for the visits, recently).

I’m still battling some strange things… like wanting to call you sometimes… and actually picking up the phone. Having nothing to do on a Saturday and thinking… “I should stop by mommy and see how she’s doing…” The toughest thing yet was to celebrate my birthday without me making my midnight phone call to you to thank you for giving me life. Dominic tried to fill in and did a good job. He told me the story (for the first time) of what it was like the days around my birth. I still remember the last time YOU told me that story. And how your face lit up about how animated I was and how you were inspired by how ready I was to live this life. I hope that the way I’m living my life continues to make you proud and give you inspiration. Everyone is pulling together to help ease the pain. Again, Nininne was an amazing choice and Tante Sisi is still your biggest cheerleader (next to me – cause you know… I’m the long standing president of your fan club).

Before I drone on… I’ll end this way. I know how much you wished for your life to be better. For you to be stronger and more adventurous and smarter and happier and wiser about your life’s decisions. Every day, I strive to be that much better so that your dreams are fulfilled. And through being better… I hope to make my child’s life one day that much better and so on. I hope you are pleased, Mommy.

Put in a good word with God for me about this baby making business and I’ll see you in my dreams.

I love you.

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Got till it’s Gone…

“Lemme just fuck with’it for a minute…” – Q-tip

I’ve been reminiscing a lot with folks about the olden days. I know. I’m not THAT old that “olden days” should be so far behind. But it doesn’t take being 60 to look back at experiences just beyond your reach and wondering what might have been if you knew then what you know now. It just takes a multitude of experiences that yield results that you can look back at and say… “I would have handled this differently…” or … “If I knew this tidbit of information… how differently this scenario would have gone down.”

There are some things in life that I’m unabashedly unapologetic for because of the things they yielded in my life. I don’t regret being an Amway distributor. For what it was worth, I was introduced to a bevy of social and people skills that I don’t feel I would have gotten in that short period of time anywhere else. I do sincerely wish I had been sponsored elsewhere. But the information I needed came to me when it did and has made a SIGNIFICANT difference in my life. If I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t ask for my suspension from AKA to be taken away. Those two years gave me a great reflection period on what I’d just done. Yeah… I went “hard” and promised to do all this stuff and now here I was being punished for said pledging of my allegiance. Would that change the promises I made to myself and at that ceremony? No. It was more important now than ever to keep my word and fulfill the work that needed to be done as a member of my sorority. Our promise is to THE COMMUNITY. That was paramount above all other promises. And I’m clear on that now. I don’t know how clear I might have been on that if I went unscathed. I might have thought it was all about something else and not the actual outcome of a measure of a woman and her works for her people.

But the last few days, I’ve been discussing the “if-i-knew-then-what-i-knew-now” phenomenon. If I knew in High school that I didn’t really have a “gut” perhaps I would have been prouder of how beautiful and strong and healthy I really was instead of settling for whoever I thought could actually see the beauty (cause you know… they needed some special decoder lens). I may have been much more discerning in my choices in life. Remember En Vogue? When they first came out? Remember those black dresses they had on? The skin tight, completely body revealing black dresses they donned as they told you not to waste your time fighting blind?

Killer Dresses

I OWNED ONE… and wore it in public…. to a DANCE… and got compliments alll night. But still came away thinking that I had a gut. I was SO extra critical of myself and looking back… and knowing what i have now… I wished that I had truly seen what I had and treated as preciously as I do now. Knowing then that I was beautiful by most standards and smart and worthy of being pursued. I was willing, most of the time, to settle for whoever would show an interest… because otherwise… I would be “alone”. Not realizing that back then, most of the time… guys weren’t “stepping to me” because they were mostly intimidated. Thinking that I’d heard every line under the sun and would most likely reject them… they stayed away. How silly, I think to myself now. I just thought it was because they didn’t like me. Come to find out now after years have gone by that the captain of the football team in HS jonesed on me back then…. Big ole glasses and all (he actually balked at the idea of me getting contacts one day when I told him on the bus… crazy). Whodda thunk it.

WHAT GUT?? ARE U KIDDING ME?? LOL

I chatted with an old boyfriend days ago and told him how we were linked (6 degrees is for real) by one of his ex’s who is now the wife of one of my ex’s. And he said to me “He’s a really lucky guy. He hit the jackpot. She’s a great person.” And while I agreed with his assessment of this lady, because she truly is wonderful… I wondered to myself… are there any of MY ex’s who would say the same of Earl?… and in the same way that I’ve systematically discounted myself over the years, I was sure that no one had. I, in that instance, was convinced that none of them had looked back at what they had with me and thought… “that was a great one right there. I wish we might have done things differently…” I’m pretty positive that everyone who I’ve dated is just fine being where they are today…. as I am. I’m happy to be with Earl. He completes me. I don’t look at any of my past relationships and think… “he was the one who got away….” (mostly because they all, somehow, chased me away… and I knew to leave — THANK GOD).

But to the female youth (that qualifies as anyone from 13 – 92) reading this… PLEASE take advantage of your time. KNOW that you’re beautiful. Know that the body you have today is only going to be like this effortlessly for a little while longer, so please enjoy it in all it’s splendor. You are intelligent and beautiful and interesting and engaging. Even more so than the next woman, so stop looking at her and wondering what she has that you don’t have. LOOK AT YOURSELF. In the mirror. But this time with a loving eye. And don’t “criticize”… admire… You have beautiful hips, a wonderful waist, perfect breasts, legs to die for, shoulders that carry your regality, eyes that make men melt… AT ANY SIZE, ANY SHAPE, ANY SHADE… because SOMEONE DOES think this of you… whether you want to believe it or not. At any stage… you are the perfect someone for SOMEBODY. So be that and TREASURE what you have. Don’t stop striving to be better… but don’t hate what you have in the process. LOVE IT. And it will get better. Let the someone who’s totally in love with all that you have be YOU FIRST… and you’ll find a line of other somebodies waiting anxiously for membership into that exclusive fan club. But you as the president have to be sincere and devoted to the subject of admiration.

I'm not only a member... I'm the Fan Club President!!

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That Doesn’t Make Us Friends…

It’s a little nuts what your subconscious will hold on to. I had a pretty normal evening last night and we hit the sack early because we’re starting a new regimen with our working out that will take longer to complete in the morning so that of course means waking up earlier. But the dream I had last night seemed like my subconscious was just reaching out and grabbing at anything. It was truly bizarre. I’ll try to recount as much of it as possible because only the end really stuck with me and made sense and made me think.

The setting was this apartment, which in and of it self is strange because my “home” in my dream’s eye is usually in queens where I grew up. So that shows some definite mental progression. And although I’m living here, in the dream, with my husband… this seems to be a headquarters of some kind for some secret operation that a few of us are a part of… a few friends… a couple of celebrities, namely The Rock (Dwayne Johnson). Just a handful of people commissioned by the POTUS to protect the secret of a new personal jet pack that is being tested and will be released to the public before long, but the details are sketchy and we can’t allow TMZ to get their hands on it. So we go about our day by day operations to keep it under wraps. An anonymous tip comes in one day citing that there’s something afoot that all of us don’t realize. A female voice sounding like she’d been crying states, “The ground isn’t always sure. We walk on it as if we know it won’t give…. but sometimes… it does… there is too much trust and not enough evidence,” and hangs up. Strange some of us think. But we don’t really give it too much credence. Until pictures of some of the agents on the team start to surface. Pictures of them, while they were supposedly on missions for our purpose, carousing with females or males that weren’t their spouses and acting out in outlandish ways. This breach in trust has everyone scrambling. In some ways it seems in this dream that I might be the captain or in charge of this movement. And it finally surfaces that my husband in the dream is also doing his own thing when I’m not looking. An audio recording of The Rock black mailing everyone that is getting found out is discovered and that’s when all hell breaks loose. He makes it to hq and li’l ole me essentially kicks his ass. I tear up the whole apartment in the process and someone keeps telling me that if I keep going this way, I’ll lose the deposit on the apartment when I move out. This as I’m breaking off pieces of the stair well to use like 2x4s and randomly whack The Rock in the back of the knees or in the stomach or ram his head into the wall. Obviously? I’m incensed. My husband in the dream caught it too. I ended up throwing him down the stairs and spitting on him … which, if y’all know? SO not like me. The spitting part that is….

No one at HQ can call 911 because again… this is a secret operation. So we have to call in this special team implosion prevention group (because there are groups like this everywhere, I guess and this kind of thing happens regularly). Their helicopter lands on the roof and we take the two guys I beat up and put them in the copter and I get in and ride shotty. We get them to the hospital and they get all cleaned up. No broken bones, just bruises and otherwise hurt egos. We begin our helicopter ride to DC, now because we have to report in on the debauchery that led us to this point. And I’m sitting next to The Rock… and I say to him, “Why didn’t you just tell me instead of use all this information for yourself. I thought we were friends.” Incredulously he replies, “No… what made you think that?? I’m not your friend.” “Why aren’t we friends? I let you live in my home… I looked out for you every time we served on a case together. I was always calling you and your family to make sure that you all had everything you needed… what more does it take to be a friend?” I shot back. He hung his head and mumbled, defeated, “That doesn’t make us friends.” And I sat there in the dream with my world completely rocked (no pun intended)… Well Gosh… if that doesn’t make a friend… what DOES? Dream ended off with a scenic pull away from the helicopter’s cabin as it flew over the Washington monument in the direction of the White House.

Beyond everything it was a well directed dream… the cinematic quality was of the utmost! LOL

But you know, I have to write these things down or else I’ll forget.

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