It was nice having someone to download to every day.

I find myself holding it all in even more because there’s that constant reminder that your baby can feel your mood.  So I try to always be as genuinely happy around my little one as I can – even if it’s her I’m worrying about.  And I do.  A lot.  As a mother should, I suppose.  But it’s more suppression.  And why not talk to the Mr, you say?  Well… he tries.  Honest.  But he’s a man like all men and sometimes the sound of something besides my voice is more attractive.  And I get it.  Plus lately – there’s been a gap in the comm.  I say something, he hears something else and acts on what he heard – not necessarily what I said.  It’s a little frightening.  I don’t want to get to the point where I have to say “Could you repeat back what I said please?” cause that feels a lot like holding his hand like a little kid.  But there are some things I’ll have to do that with because I can’t risk him executing his interpretation. So to that point if I was to unload, I’d want some constructive feed back.  Not just him nodding his head hearing what’s on TV or him hearing something altogether different.

I’ve been chatting to my co-worker about networking more – for work purposes – but maybe this could be two fold.  Network just to increase the base of people that I know and open up my life to new and different voices.  I think I’ll try to start doing that right away.  Wish I had something to go to tonight along those lines.  Hubs is taking the cherub to his e-board meeting.  No real need to rush home.  It’ll just be empty.

Empty and cluttered with the makings of this move.  UGH.  More to think about.  Going back in.

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It was wrong of me to just drop off the face of the earth like that.  But when you think about it – our relationship started out in much the same way so it’s poetic in a way.   But there’s a very important reason you haven’t heard from me and I’ve gotten up enough strength to tell you to your face…  well… in a letter.

This summer was a whirlwind.  When we met, I was feeling pretty low on myself.  Even though I would dress up pretty and make my hair do beautiful things it could have never accomplished with a perm, I wasn’t getting any feedback.  Feels like the only person that was telling me anything was me in my own mirror.  That had me feeling pretty down every day – so behind my smile there was all this sadness.  I was in a stressful position at work at the time… things were just rough all around.

But then you came out of nowhere… and told me that I was the best… the best you ever had – and I believed you, because I wanted to and I really needed to.  So I started to listen to what you had to say more carefully.  You were always talking about rolling with Young Money, being up all night and making the high life sound like where it was at!  Somehow you managed to take Sade’s musical melancholy and blend it with the party-downstairs feeling of muted base and blurred lights that I’d always lived for and spoke words I needed to hear over it all.   I took a good look at you and you were boyishly cute.  Never thought I’d fall for your type, but your swagger and demeanor had me sold.  At the end of the day, that’s all anyone has forever.  So we started to go steady.  You kicked game to me every day in my car telling me how fancy you thought I was and when I was getting ready for us to go out on the town, you instructed me to put those fucking heels on and work it girl – let that mirror show you what you’re doing.  I won’t mention what you told me to do when we got home… Straight fireworks.  I hadn’t felt so light and pretty and wanted and sexy in a long time.  You were MY favorite, even though you kept bringing up that Minaj girl.  I can’t hate – she’s beautiful, talented and IS from Queens, afterall… how can you resist?  But I knew that I was your number one when we spent my birthday night signing and rapping to each other.  It was a concert was just for me and the thousands watching were just observing to see what real passion looked like.  I was on cloud nine then… The city was ours.

But I have to come clean to you finally…  You haven’t seen me because I’m with child.  And it’s not yours.  And as much as you made me feel young and pretty and wanted — the life I’m preparing for now is the one I always wanted and need to get my mind right for.  You have years ahead of you full of fun, frivolity, fame and carefree living. But I want you to know that you saved me from me and saved my swagger this summer when I thought I’d lost it all.  I’ll always be grateful for that because now I can teach that to my little baby girl when she gets older and she’ll be all of those things without ever having to ask for validation or permission.

I promise to always give the world me – the real me.

Thanks, Drake.

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Good song. Great words. It’s nice that they kind of put the advice out there for folks sometimes. It’s all just a matter of listening.

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Last night wasn’t actually a bad night. Just some not-great things happened in it. I got home after an extremely productive day at work and the Hubby was cooking dinner for me. Sweet and thoughtful and wonderful. He made chicken patties so we could have a little picnic dinner. I ate them… They were delicious. But something didn’t sit right with me ultimately. I got a horrid tummy ache and felt out of sorts. I wasn’t my self. At 9:00PM I was contemplating turning in for good for the night. Which I did, but I didn’t stay down. The tummy got worse and so did my demeanor. I was just miserable. Eventually the hubby made me some hot tea which I drank quickly and I sniffed some Peppermint oil and was able to stay down for a while. Part II of the torture came in. Remember that Drake obsession? Well, I’m now convinced that there is something subliminal in the music. Because it’s haunting me. No matter what I do – it’s the only music I hear in my head. I listened to nothing but Gospel yesterday (Help – everyone who knows ME? knows it was for work — it’s just not my cup of tea). And somehow the long tones held for the Lord couldn’t scrub my brain clean of Drake’s music all night… it was juggling between verses with Nicki Minaj or duets with The Dream. It was actually KEEPING me awake. Which is a sure sign it’s time to put that album AWAY. But… the night doesn’t stop there.

Part III of the torturesome night comes in the form of a dream. When I finally did close my eyes long enough, I found me and my hunny strolling through the streets of some town. Just chatting. At one point, we sat down on the steps of a town house. Pretty house but was old school… needed some repair. Outside, there was a great big Yellow valance hanging down from the outside of the topmost window down around the entrance. The house felt familiar and comfortable so we sat on the steps talking. In the middle of our discussion some people come out of the house — looks like they’re going for a night on the town. They look familiar… but I think it’s my mind playing tricks on me. The lady passes by and I smile at her and she smiles back. The gentleman passes and gives me a huge hug and continues on his way. I don’t find it to be strange at all. Just some friendly people in this dream realm. We decided to walk into the house and make ourselves at home (I know right?) but they left the doors open. We sat in the parlour room and watched tv and chatted over beverages. Suddenly I hear the chatter of children and I look up. There’s a man standing there in an orange sweater and blue jeans and another man in a white v neck long sleeve and jeans. They are assessing the house. I look down next to my hubby and there’s a woman sitting next to her with the eldest of what looks like 2 baby girls. The youngest one is cradled in the orange sweater man’s arm. He finally turns around and it’s JC. I gave him a most evil stare and said, “what are you doing here?” and he flippantly responded “I’m in the market for a house.” “Not this one,” I returned, “It’s not for sale.” And he frowned up his lips in assessment and mumbled “they need to….” I glanced at the babies… I couldn’t see their faces… But they looked happy and sunkissed and perfect. I glanced at the hubby and he was gone… I stood up and walked out of the house and asked them all to please follow me out – the house was now closed. JC shrugged and gathered his family and friend and left. Almost sucking his teeth at me on his way out. The bile bubbled up in my stomach and woke me.

I know I’m only footsteps away from the things I want in life. The things I’ve been chasing. But I’m only human. I guess deep down inside… I’m envious of people who seem to have things … I must think they don’t deserve. It’s not my place to decide those things. But… I’d be denying a very real and essential part of me if I tried to pretend that all of me is okay with it all of the time. I am slowly realizing my dreams. It’s happening. But every now and again, when I look into my dream mirror… I allow myself to feel what I suppress in my waking life.

It’ll be funny to reach back and read this post when all my dreams are fulfilled. I’ll think… “How silly was I to ever doubt….”

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“I live for the nights that I won’t remember… with the people that I won’t forget”
-Drake

Not much to say here. Had a really amazing weekend (half of it) and the other half recovering. But the awesomeness of the first part makes up for that.

I’m hoping for a productive week of keeping my word and banging some stuff out of the way so I never have to think about it again. I’m Drake’d out – but it’s a good thing. I haven’t enjoyed an album like this in a long time. Got ready to it on Sat…. rode through the city to it to our final destination. And it’s STILL on my mind.

LORD… September is almost over??? *smh*

Here’s to another week meriting a weekend that awesome!

Today’s Song… Show me a Good Time

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And I suppose I’ll just have to make time. Because I am deserving.

Even if I just come on here and say things really quick and keep it moving… Which is what I may have to do. These thoughts have to go somewhere.

Where am I at? 2 1/2 months into the new job – loving it immensely. It’s changing my life in a lot of wonderful unexpected ways. Probably going to rejoin the IVF process in November so i am and am not looking forward to that all at once. I think my hair is falling out due to the lack of all those chems in my body. So I think I’ll BC again for my birthday. That should be fun – how many times does one get to start over in life? I’m loving Drake’s album. Probably more than I should. But it’s smooth and uptempo all at once. Some of the tracks make me feel like it’s a Sade song. It’s weird. Insanity is kicking my ass for real – my endurance is up like CRAZY, but I’m not SEEING the results that I’d like. So I might consider shifting into something else. I started pulling oil again a few weeks ago – coconut. Yummy detoxification and I’m starting a cleansing detox today (oooh fun).

Overall, I’m feeling really good. I still miss mommy and daddy terribly. I’m fighting growing old. I’m learning to love certain situations in the hopes that my love will turn it all around for me. Staying positive has saved me so many times… I’m not about to stop today.

So… hopefully more quick hit posts will be coming soon. Stay tuned for those!

This morning’s Song is Drake’s Shut It Down

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The ride home – surprisingly similar thus far. AC in the car works – not to freeze me, but to soothe me down from the heat of elevated voices all day. Not crowded – if u stand, it’s by choice…. And I chose to stand (of course). Not cramped or crowded – got my position by the door (just in case I gotta run – (C) the Fugees) – just waiting for the conductor to call “Utica Ave”. So I can stumble home to my awaiting mini paradise

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How do you know that what you’ve experienced is real? Versus another dream in your head that is so… “real”istic? I read past memories through this blog and some of the actual memories feel like a distant dream. What makes those real? How do I know for certain I went through them? Unless I have someone who can verify… and then… could it be the stuff of mass delusion? Occasionally I struggle… with this question. I suppose it’s an offshoot of the more common “What is the Meaning of Life” question that folks like to ask. My mission is to discern what is real from what is feigned and the line blurs way more often than I care to imagine. I touch my hunny’s skin and it feel real to me… soft and chocolatey and wonderful. And he reacts to my touch… with a smile or some goosebumps. And in that instant I think he’s real. Not a figment of my imagination. Not a cast member placed here to help play out the whims of my life story. Some one truly real in my life and here. But that fleeting assuredness is chased away by the thought – “one day he won’t be real anymore…” Just like Grandma and mom and dad aren’t anymore. They were a bastion in reality for me. And now all I have is the concept of them. The remembrance of how real they WERE. But are no longer. Then I try to soak up all the “realness” of each moment. So I don’t forget. Collect all my “pretty pictures” so I have them to go with me when all is said and done.

I watched “A Beautiful Mind” last night. I’d seen it before and was always intrigued that someone with something as severe as Paranoid Schizophrenia could overcome it or at least cord it off so he could live somewhat of a normal existence and still benefit from his genius. What I noted last night is that the schitzophrenia had him in such a way that those characters that followed him around were all as real to him as the regular people roaming the earth (according to the movie). He would engage in conversation with them. He could interact with them. Touch them. Feel them. They never actually “went away” he just stopped interacting with them because it would lend to too much of a fantasy world that was not actually a part of our reality. But for all intents and purposes, until someone told him “no – these are not real people – we don’t see them. This is all in your head,” they were a very real and regular part of his life. The mind is Beautiful in its constructs. What it makes you know to be true versus anyone else’s interpretation.

I thought about it a lot last night. And this morning. I thought I’d write it down. Maybe that makes it real.

On another note, I got my hands on the new Erykah Badu album. It’s called “The New Amerykah Part II – Return of the Ankh”. I’ll say honestly that I’d not loved “Worldwide Underground” or “The New Amerykah Part I – 4th World War” with the passion that I loved Baduism, the Live Album or Mama’s Gun (the latter being my absolute FAVORITE Erykah album). But I DO love this new album. It immediately surpassed the last two in my mind to take up position as the 4th Erykah Album that I truly enjoyed. With that, I’ve already identified a song that I can relate to in a very surreal way. Although it’s done in the same three movement style as “Green Eyes” (for which I adored ALL THREE movements), “Out My Mind Just in Time’s” first movement hits me right *here* (pointing to my head and my heart). Music. Sentiment. Emotion and execution all join forces for it to sound like Erykah has watched my past relationships and took a little while to quantify what she read. But finally found the very simplest words to express my addiction. My compulsion. I expressed to MJ yesterday that the main issue with me is that I remember vividly and sometimes still feel in my heart how very deeply I loved… EVERYONE. It’s still incredibly real to me. But as a side effect… I also remember how hurt I felt.

I’m a recovering undercover over-lover
Recovering from a love I can’t get over
Recovering undercover over-lover
And now my common law lover thinks he wants another

And I’d lie for you… I’d cry for you
‘n pop for you and break for you
And hate for you and hate you too
If you want me to… ahhh ooooh
I’d pray for you… Crochet for you
Make it from scratch for you
Leave off the latch for you
Go to the Store for you
Do it some more for you
Do what you want me to
Guess I’m a fool for you

I’m a recovering undercover over-lover
Recovering from a love I can’t get over oooh I
Recovering undercover over-lover
And now my common law lover thinks he wants another

And I’d lie for you… and cry for you
‘n pop for you… break for you
‘n hate for you and I’ll hate you too
If you want me to… I gotta do
My Love for you
Chop and Screw for you
Paint it Red for you
It’s true it’s true
Poor Badu…
Ooooh oooh ooh
Thought I was through with you
Guess I’m a fool for you….

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