Anomaly

The train was a relief getting on this morning from the sweltering humidity out side that threatened to douse us with rains anew. We got on to a moderately populated, cooled non-wreaking of homelessness or wreckless abandon car with like minded working class all enjoying the final dregs of their morning quiet before stepping into a venti New York noisemaker, non-fat.

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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WordPress for Blackberry!

So I dreamt it then found it… And now I’m testing it out… I hope this means that I’ll blog more since a million and one things are happening at once now… I need to document… It has my categories in there…. This is feeling like a WIN

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What’s Real

What is real? Realness? Reality? Real Talk? Really Real? I’m for Real? Real Love? Reality Shows?

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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An Awkward Situation…

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Lying and Tiger’s Affairs… oh my…

So… I’m kind of on the outskirts of all of this getting random reports every now and again about the latest. Here’s what I know in short:

There was a *makes fingers do the quotations move* “Car Crash” involving Tiger Woods a week ago where he hit a tree head on, air bags didn’t deploy and there didn’t seem to be any damage to his door. In a valiant attempt to *quotes move, again* “save him”, his wife Elin busted both back windows *cue up Jazmine Sullivan quietly in the background* to his Cadillac Escalade (quick RCA dog head tilt here on why a billionaire is driving an Escalade…) to *quotes move a third time* “pull him to safety” then a day or two later it starts to come out that there were “transgressions” with someone who he left a voicemail for asking her for things she’d have to do for him Huge. Quickly. Bye. Because his wife had been going through his phone (right before the “crash”?) A day later there was another name… cause the first girl we heard about had a J – Jenna or Joanna or something… now there was this Uchitel chick and today a third… a Kalika someone (who I SWORE would be a sistah with a name like that – and maybe would have actually made this whole thing jucier – but Tiger gets points for being consistent with his Jungle Fever or… um… Cablinasian Fever… because Kalika was just another skinny white girl – but brunette this time). And over all of this fuckery he laid the sauce of “I’m only human, stop pestering me and my family – by the way my wife is so gracious and wonderful, stop accusing her of being violent and barbaric – but wait – NOT gracious and wonderful enough for me to try and keep my 9 iron in the bag” right along the top with a flourish.

In. A. Nutshell.

What’s my take?

This was a public service reminder to all and everyone who is in a committed relationship or married to go through their phones and delete questionable shit. And questionable means just that. If it can be construed a million ways. Or if your mama read it and you think she’d raise an eyebrow… If it’s a photo you have to turn on an angle and preface with “wait… you gotta know the story behind it…” DE? Lete. And then make a little resolution to try not to anymore with the creating of new messages like that, mmmkay? Especially if you KNOW someone’s going to be looking at your phone when you aren’t.

Do I think he’s wrong? Sure. I also think that society has inflated our expectations of what we should and should not be doing. But that’s a blog for another time… or maybe – I wrote it last blog, actually LOL. I think I might have been able to forgive him on one… but three? I mean… damn, Tiger… How many women are you “wearing out?” Fer shizzle.

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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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You’re Like a Diamond…

“… But she treats you like Glass
Yet you beg her to love you…
But me, you don’t ask.”
– Gladys Knight and the Pips

Jealousy is a disease...

So this morning’s song(s) are courtesy of my co-worker / sister Drenna. Her FB status updated and firmly planted this song in my head. And her comment on her own status after posting similar lyrics was “I just sang that song HARD in my pillow like I was Gladys,” and I felt her. I remember hearing and singing that song and having it touch me in a special place.

In all honesty, I think most women have probably shared a view from this same vista. Watching someone that you could love with all your might and make him as happy as you know he could be but he pines away for someone who isn’t worth his time and effort. And you sit there at times from afar (or maybe not so far) trying to gently convince him w/o breaking boundaries that maybe… maybe being with HER isn’t such a great idea for his life. Gently. And it can spin off in a million directions from there. He could completely ignore you. He could take you up on that suggestion and start dating someone else. He could decide to stay with her AND somehow be with you. All roads, with your rose colored glasses of what your particular future with him could be like, lead to fuckery. But it’s so impossible to see situations as they should be when you’re the one afflicted with “love” or “infatuation” as it were. You just know you could do better for him – appreciate him the way he “deserves” to be. There have been a MILLION songs written to express the same sentiments shared by women looking on as they “spend the rest of their lives knowing that someone else is married to their husband” (copyright When Harry Met Sally). A more recent version of the same sentiment was expressed over heavy beats and staccato piano by Mary J. Blige and Li’l Kim in “I Can Love You”. In the 90′s there wasn’t a girls head that wasn’t bopping to this jam. So I included it in the playlist.

Truth be told, I’ve been in that situation more times that I care to count. To say that my marriage sprouted from such a situation would be an exaggeration. Yes, he was in love with some silly girl who had NO idea what she had in her possession. But at the time that I found Earl romantically — HE had already made the decision that he could do better. I mean… it was after learning that she’d slept with… well… everyone. And when Earl is done? He’s effin’ DONE. So I didn’t have to compete with her in that regard. I did, however, have to fight her off a few times as she (of course) came to the realization of what Earl could have been to her later and she tried to *ahem* reclaim what was hers. Y’all that know me? Knows that was NEVER. HAPPENING. But the essential is that the lynch pin in the decision is HIM feeling like he can be loved better by someone else. Till that happens? You’ll just be in the corner pining and wasting your precious lifetime when you can find someone else who can belong all to you and appreciate all this love you have to give.

I’ve also been on the flip side… where some girl convinced my then man that she could do better for him – and he believed her enough to see her behind my back. And upon finding out, I’ll let him be with her instead, cause I didn’t want to have anything to do with that anymore. Well… those relationships never lasted long… but I ALWAYS found myself in at least one situation where he was there with his new girl… and she was giving me the side eye like I wanted anything more to do with them. And the last song on my list would have been PERFECT as a soundtrack.

It’s always better to put that lamenting energy in to finding someone just for you instead of making yourself crazy for someone who could give a shit.

(friends reading this off of my facebook feed who can’t see the playlist, click on “View Original Post” before the comment box to go to my blog and listen to the songs )

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All Through The Night

Reppin' to the fullest for Queens, NY

I’m thinking I’m going to use the phenomenon I expressed in the previous blog to get me on here every day. I’ve been kind of trapped in my own head and I’m battling to get out. It’s not a bad thing… I just miss blogging. It’s freeing.

So the premise I’ll use to get some thoughts out every day is the Song of the Day in my head. I wake up every single morning with one song in my head. I usually don’t know where it came from. Sometimes it’s because I heard the song some time during the day. Usually? I don’t and it’s an offshoot of my dreams or the very last discussion I had before I went to sleep. And usually, it’s a song I’ve not thought about in AGES. Which gives just a touch more testimony to the amazing data space in our minds that we’ve yet to harness. I’m positive in my head I have cataloged over a million songs. And all I need is just a few notes from it to completely jog my memory of the song and it’s like i never forgot it. Earl marvels at this phenomenon when we watch TV. I know THE MOST obscure songs and he just sits there counting them off while I sing “Twenty two thousand, six hundred and forty three…” he’ll mumble as I belt off yet another song that he knows nothing of.

The funny thing (and this is just a bit of an aside) is how much a part of my life singing and performing used to be… and how much so many people in my life now have no idea that I can LOL! It truly took a back seat to becoming an adult and getting a job and making a living… But don’t catch me in the shower… or in my car… or alone with the stereo. Some folks have indulged with me (*winks at Kimmy for our numerous wonderous car duets*) and some folks have gotten in trouble with me (*smiles at Max cause my neighbor put a kabosh on our musical evening that time*) and some just listen and enjoy on rides home or away. I’ll never get too far from how music makes me feel. It was said best in “August Rush” (great movie, by the way) that you can’t give up on your music because it’s what you’ll turn to when you’re feeling sad or need to regroup and definitely what you’ll use to express your happiness and excitement. 9 times out of 10, if I cite a song to anyone… it’s not really JUST for the music… there’s a message I want them to hear in the words coupled with the flow of the song. I thought everyone was this way, but it might just be me… which is why I think very carefully before I tell anyone “Hey… have you heard this song?” Because once they listen to it… I want them to know that had I the chops? I would have written that for them but since that artist beat me to it… here is what I’d like to say to you… so really listen. Words escape me a lot. Thank GOD for singers and songwriters.

Back to the In high school I shared a respectful observance of my best friend Nicky’s obsession with Cyndi Lauper. It was easy not to take her seriously back then with the multicolored crazy version of Madonna’s virgin. And all the hiccuping sounds, funky body gyrations and the nasal weirdness that she purposefully put forth. But if you leaned in just a touch closer past all of that… she’s a POWER HOUSE. An 8 octave range achieved EFFORTLESSLY (you RARELY see that anymore), a musician with proficiency in guitar, piano, trombone, electric bass, percussion and as demonstrated on American Idol – Appalachian dulcimer. She writes and produces her own lyrics and music. All that to say is that she’s a force to be reckoned with. Hanging out with Nicky gave me an in depth look into her catalog – one that I wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t been there to help. So last nights song is courtesy of Cyndi – “All Through the Night”. However, there are 2 other Cyndi songs that I love and never got enough play at all that I’ll try to include in the listing below just to open up minds to something new (no message here folks LOL). The first is “I’m Gonna Be Strong” – the original one- off her first album “Blue Angel” – this didn’t get any radio play as far as I remember, however, I still have the black cassette tape TDK with the white label that Nicky made for me and how often I RAN that song after one particular break up. Some songs are really therapeutic that way. The second is “I Drove All Night” which is innately sensual and inviting and I feel in this song, she didn’t try to disguise her talent behind any gimmick or strangeness. She let you have it all the way.

Okay folks – enjoy my trip back to the 80s

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