Just a Touch of Love - A Little Bit

2007-08-25T13:13:00.000-07:00

Mm hm. Just testing this shit out. Getting my feet wet again. Been away fer years & years.

Find me on MySpace and be my friend!

2003-05-13T23:10:00.000-07:00

and then again...

2003-05-13T22:47:00.000-07:00

It's so frightening, losing everything. Giving it all up, giving it away. Throwing it out. The special things are there: snapshots, memories, stories, smiles. All the tears are going, though. They've got to go. No more tears, no more fears, no more shit in arrears.

I don't have clue one where we're going, what we'll do; I just know it'll be better than this. It'll be big, it'll be grand. Comfortable and secure and happy and clean and inspiring.

Whatever I do, I'll create. Where ever we go, we'll be safe. Mama will be happy, baby will be happy. Dog will be happy. Happy family.

2003-05-11T17:03:00.000-07:00

Yolanda went to a continuation school that let out at noon. She picked Andre up from school every day at two, took him home, and did her homework before leaving for work. She usually worked from four to eight, but sometimes stayed until ten or eleven. Their mom was always up and dressed by the time Kwan got home. Although she spent almost every evening drinking and partying, she made dinner every night and went over her kids' homework with them. She was a very pretty woman, dark as night with long hair that she often wore in two braids down her back. She was tall with big hips and legs and kept her nails long and polished. She had perfect teeth and deep-set eyes that were a mellow brown, lighter than her skin and giving her an exotic look.

Lorraine had had Yolanda when she was sixteen, and Kwan when she was eighteen. Their father had left and moved to Michigan when Kwan was five and Yolanda seven, and Lorraine had started dating a Mexican man. She had Andre a year into their relationship, and his father had left her for another woman when Andre was just six months old. Yolanda and Kwan's dad sent a small check a few times a year, but Andre's dad gave Lorraine money on a monthly basis. He took Andre to ball games and to Great America, but he completely ignored Lorraine's other kids. Yolanda remembered when they had been dating. He was nice to her and Kwan; he'd bring them ice cream and once he took the whole family out to Pier 39 in San Francisco. But as soon as he broke up with their mom, he acted as if Andre was the only kid in the house.

Yolanda wrote letters to her father on his birthday and at Christmas. He sent her cards and gifts but whenever she asked for a ticket to come visit him, he made excuses about not having enough money, or enough time to spend with her. He was married to a woman who had two kids of her own, and they had two boys together. Yolanda had pictures of her little brothers, but she'd never seen them. She had a feeling that her stepmother didn't want Yolanda's dad to have anything to do with his other kids. Kwan acted like he didn't care; whenever Yolanda brought up their father he would change the subject or ignore her.

Andre was in the living room, playing with his Power Ranger action figures on the floor in front of the sofa. Yolanda and Lorraine were in the kitchen. Yolanda was doing her world history homework and Lorraine was cleaning the stove and counters. The radio on the windowsill was tuned to KBLX and Lorraine was singing along with Teddy Pendergrass as she worked. She had a nice voice, thin but clear. Yolanda liked to hear her mother sing. Sometimes when she came home from the bar she would come in the house singing and Yolanda would lay in bed, listening to her as she took off her makeup and clothes. Sometimes Lorraine would come home crying softly. Yolanda would find her in the morning, sleeping on top of her bed, her clothes and makeup still on. Yolanda would help her mother into her nightgown and under the covers. She knew her mom had had too much brandy when she found her like that. She wished she wouldn't drink so much, or party so much. She wished her mom had a job like Auntie Carol, or that she would slow down and meet a man who didn't hang out at Hightower's.

Lorraine rinsed out the sponge and placed it on the back of the sink. She opened a cabinet and took out some spice bottles, and pulled some hamburger meat and vegetables out of the refrigerator. "Landa, baby, cut these onions and peppers up when you done with your homework, 'kay?"
"Okay Mom" Yolanda replied. Her mom opened the kitchen door and pulled a Newport out of the pack on top of the refrigerator. She lit the cigarette and stood in the doorway, smoking and singing along with the radio. Yolanda answered the last question in the chapter about Ghandi, closed her textbook and got up from the table. She took down the cutting board hanging next to the stove and got a knife from a drawer. She turned on the cold water and held the onions under the stream as she peeled the skin off. She cut the onions into quarters under the water, separating each layer and rinsing it off. She put the pieces on the the cutting board and began to dice them. Lorraine had taught her this technique, and she hardly ever cried when cutting onions. When she'd finished she scraped the chopped onions into a bowl and chopped up the bell peppers. She put those into the bowl and asked her mom, "you want me to season the meat too?" Lorraine stubbed her cigarette out on the railing and flipped the butt into the dumpster in the courtyard below. She closed the kitchen door, went to the sink and began washing her hands. "That's okay baby," she told Yolanda, "I got it. Go ahead and get ready for work."

Yolanda took her history book and binder and her backpack into her room. She removed her books from the backpack and placed them all on her dresser. She took her uniform - a Taco Bell tee shirt, baseball cap and navy Dickies - from her closet and put them into the backpack. She checked her makeup, combed her hair in the back, and left her room. Andre ran up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a big hug. "Bye Landa, have fun at work!" Yolanda laughed. "yeah, Dre, I'll have lots of fun." She went into the kitchen where Lorraine was kneading spices and the chopped vegetables into the hamburger meat. She leaned her head towards her daughter and Yolanda kissed her on the cheek. "Have a good night baby, don't let them work you too hard." Yolanda said "Okay Mom," and left.

Walking down the front stairs, Yolanda saw her Auntie Carol coming up the walk. She smiled when she saw Yolanda. "You going to work?" She asked her. "Yeah." They hugged each other. Auntie Carol was shorter than her sister, and lighter, but she had the same light brown eyes and long, almost straight hair. She was slimmer in the hips than Lorraine but had a more generous bust. "Have a good night Landa," her auntie called after her as she walked towards the corner. "Bye," Yolanda waved. Carol started up the stairs, on her way to gossip with her sister for a while.

2003-02-23T13:49:00.000-08:00

I was in the Oakland Childrens Chorus like a hundred years ago. Okay, well, 25 years ago. Seems like a hundred.

We sang some of everything. Performed around the state, went to camp each year up on the Feather River.

For a while our music director was Larry Batiste, a jazz musician who played with Bill Summers and other local artists. He penned a tune called "Oakland, You Are My Song". A very pretty little song, and it would be really cool if I quoted it right now but I can only remember part of the chorus and a piece of a verse. "Oakland, you are my song/and you-ou are where I belong".

We sang it at the dedication ceremony for City Center Plaza. You know, down by the 12th St BART station, where all the shops & stuff are.

I was down that way not long ago, looking in the windows. There's a lot of nice merchandise to buy there, if you've got any money. I don't. I had enough that day for a coffee, though. Got me a sugar-free vanilla latte and sat down on a bench. I watched people. The folx going back & forth from the office on breaks & overly long errands. Students looking calm and unhurried wandered by with coffee and heavy bookbags. A short man in a suit stopped to check himself in a store window. He ran his hand over his barbered head and rubbed his neat beard. He smiled at himself before he hurried on his way.

I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see my play-sister walking by with a coworker. "Tammy!" I yelled out. She turned. "What's up girl?" We hugged and gossipped and I spoke to her coworker, who I'd gone to Oakland High with. We chopped it up for ten minutes or so, until they had to get back to their office. A short time after that my girl Lori walked up. She works with Tammy, and Tammy'd told her I was outside chilling. We did the hugging and gossipping and chopping it up too and when she left I sat there sipping my coffee and smiling.

The fountain wasn't running that afternoon. It was cold but bright and sunny. The water in the bottom of the fountain gave off glints of platinum that hurt your eyes for a second. A ragged pigeon pecked at some Fritos someone'd dropped and I got up to leave. I tossed my empty coffee cup into a trash can and wished I had the money to get another. Or a pepperoni slice. I wished I had a job, a paycheck. Walking out of City Center I heard a car's stereo playing "Rebel Music". I bopped my head a lil' bit.

Someone behind me yelled to someone else, and I looked back, nosy. I could see the Federal Building way out past the City Center walkway and the people streaming from it to City Center and back looked like a cartoon representation of a busy city street. The sun was bright and made everything look half-there.

I went across Broadway to Walgreens. I got a cottage cheese and when I went to pay for it with my EBT card, I found out that that Walgreens doesn't accept food stamps. Rite Aid didn't either. I was too tired to walk down to Chinatown so I just got on the bus and went home.

When I got home I realized I'd left my lighter on the bench in City Center Plaza. I hope someone found it who really needed a cigarette and couldn't find a light. I hope someone took it and carved their initials into it with a nail file. I hope someone found it and compulsively flicked the wheel until the butane ran out. I hope it found another life in City Center Plaza.

2003-02-13T18:05:00.000-08:00

2002-12-14T13:06:00.000-08:00

Poetry randomly generated by this lovely thing

From Sideshow:

Possibly Interesting: to time to the early
morning hours, Thought really One
bedroom apartment go down Church
Street, where they show
I have also found
myself yelling back in here and
happy to lock us Oakland . I tried
to hear the latest version of
East Oakland right, I have seen
much
ruder, by fools from
us. inside. We
got 2 the footage and freshly
dipped at the air, egging you
talk about. the
side show was
slow, because they do
find people
who spoke out in
a donut
or a homicide report depicts.

From Possibly Interesting:

Possibly Interesting :::::: knee
deep INTERESTING you
groan, dumb internet quiz.
know all of
men just took all. So I got
off He
was in there Mm hm.
Busted. I went to happen,
dontcha know.

Possibly Interesting :::::: a different folder
than the drunken handyman more... desirable than half
nude girls I
saw that and helped her mother
is the baby . real family.
member or downtown. She said they should
arrest every twenty
minutes or downtown

Possibly Interesting :::::: lively up
be able to be ;
at least ten
times. Update: just know folx
of
skin between them. before where the
barbershop, a post
written in the
water off. yet got the
landlady
for kids mamas are
gone. There since
been
there a lot.

From About:

Pretend Married The
King Intensity Dean Koontz The classics
Stephanie Mills, Aretha Horror, , suspense,
true Romance Dalmatians Autumn Nikki Giovanni, Langston Hughes,
Emily Dickinson
Stargazer lilies, gerbera daisies, amaryllis
Lavender, vanilla, Blue or speakers.
Just broke. 1993
Olds Cutlass Supreme SL, bought six incense holders,
one leather coat that
I Know This page will be updated
on a
Decade of my
books a real stereo. , very Best
of chocolate & swirls of
shoes that I actually
wear, one wooden weed
box. Somewhere between two
menorahs, six
incense holders, one TV.

Pretend Married The Very slow
PC. No particular order Flyy Girl Omar
Tyree The
Collected Stories of my
heart, my heart, my heart,
my heart,
my Smile Alice
Walker Jitterbug Perfume Tom Robbins The point
where I live, I create. Here, ever since.
Blonde hair, long, lean
pants. Long lean pants.

2002-11-26T10:00:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday night, at the 11:30 shift change, a male nurse walked into my room. His nametag said David Something. I recognized him from one of my previous hospitalizations. "hi" I said, "are you my nurse this shift?" he said yes, and I told him I remembered him from before. He asked when that had been, and I told him when my other operations were done. We discussed why I was there this time, and I explained it to him, including the history of my operations and recoveries. I told him how because I'd had a laproscopy people kept assuming that I should be in less pain than I was, and have a short recovery. I asked him, like I asked all my nurses, to please understand that because of the extent of the hernia and the operation, and because of my physiology, that my pain was very intense and that it would take several days before I would begin to feel better. He asked to see the incisions, and I pulled back the blanket & lifted my gown to show him. He looked at my abdomen for a minute and as he was pulling the blanket back over me his hand brushed against a particularly sore spot on my torso.

I said "Ow! That hurt!" He said "I didn't touch you". I said "you did, your hand brushed against me and it hurt." He repeated that he hadn't touched me, and smiled. Smirked, really. I was in intense pain. It hurt to breathe, and to talk. I said "What's so funny? Are you laughing at me?" and he said "I'm not laughing. " I said "well you're smirking" and he said "yes, I do smile". I said "do you think my pain is funny?" and he said again, "I didn't touch you." I started to raise my voice, which hurt more. "look, I'm not asking you to apologize, I'm not trying to start no shit with you, I just mentioned that what you did hurt me and you need to respect that instead of fuckin laughing at me." He just stood there, still smirking at me. "what the fuck is so motherfuckin funny?" I yelled at him. "Nothing. I didn't touch you." I said "Goddammit, you did, and it fuckin hurt, and if you're not going to respect that you need to get the fuck out and send someone in who'll respect me without fuckin makin fun of me!" He just looked at me. "What the fuck are you lookin at? You're not being helpful, goddammit, you're being disrespectful!" He said "you're being inappropriate." I went off. "how the fuck you gone say I'm inappropriate when you won't acknowledge my fuckin pain, you just defend yourself and fuckin laugh at me, you're fuckin unprofessional and disrespectful and need to get the fuck out my motherfuckin face RIGHT NOW!" he sauntered over near the door and leaned against the wall, his hand on his hip, that funky ass smile on his face. I kept yelling, my chest feeling tight, my entire abdomen burning in pain. Every breath was excruciating and I was gasping out my words. "don't stand there with your hand on your fuckin hip laughing at me, get the fuck out my motherfuckin room, you lucky I can't get up because I'd slap that fuckin smirk off your fuckin face!" And he smiled and said "I didn't touch you." "GODDAMMIT SHUT UP stop fucking disrespecting me, what kind of fucked up ass nurse are you! get the fuck out my motherfuckin room!"

Then I heard someone from outside say "just come out of there" and three female nurses came in my room, one of them the charge nurse. I was gripping the rails of the bed tightly, gasping with pain, sweating and crying. The charge nurse asks me to please calm down, which I really can't, and tell her what happened. I gasped and cried and was finally able to relate the exchange. I told her that if I saw his fuckin face again I would spit on him if I couldn't slap him. She told me he would not be in my room again, and that I didn't have worry, all the other nurses knew how badly I was hurting and I would not have a problem like that again. Meanwhile I heard David outside, he was obviously being questioned about the incident because I heard him say "I didn't touch her, she just started screaming at me".

My doctor was called, and he approved a shot of Ativan, an anti-anxiety drug. My new nurse, Heidi, rubbed my legs, which had cuffs on them that automatically inflated & deflated, to prevent DVT. I calmed down and finally stopped crying, and fell asleep. Later Heidi told me that David wouldn't be back anytime soon; he'd been suspended. My guess is he'd had other issues before that night because I really didn't think one crazy irate patient would get him suspended. I always feel bad when someone gets in trouble behind me, even if they deserve it. I can't help it. But this time that empathy was so fleeting as to be non-existent. Fuckin smarmy asshole.

2002-11-08T18:49:00.000-08:00

The McDonalds was packed with kids from their school. They were mostly noisy and rowdy, and many of them were giving the cashiers a hard time. Kwan was glad he didn't work at a fast food restaurant. Yolanda told him stories almost every day about rude customers so he always remembered to be polite when he was buying food. He ordered for everyone and paid with a twenty. He was careful to separate the bill from the wad inside his pocket, so no one would see how much money he was holding. He put the change in the pocket on the other side of his coat. Now he had $639.86. The boys took their food outside and ate sitting on a bus stop bench. The ground was littered with McDonalds cups and wrappers and half-eaten burgers. Battered looking pigeons picked at the food on the ground and chased each other. A man who smelled like piss and alcohol asked them for change, and Kwan gave him the rest of his french fries. The man stood there for a moment, telling the boys about a fight he'd had with his wife. When he walked away Paul said "shit, he probably ain't even got a wife. He probably sleeps in a box with a dirty ass dog. That's who he was fighting, not his wife." The boys laughed.

2002-10-11T01:24:00.000-07:00

Five Years Ago

Jayden will be five years old on December 11. Here is my pregnancy journal for October 1997, which I transcribed onto Jayden's website in 1998. I haven't updated his site in a long time because whenever I open Geocities the pop-up ads make my computer crash. Also, many of the links no longer work, and I don't feel like tracking down new ones, so my apologies for any broken links.

October 1, 1997

The baby is a boy!!! It's very obvious. On the last ultrasound, he had his knees drawn up to his chest and there was his penis, clear as day!!! Wow.

October 8, 1997

I picked out a name: Jayden Tivon Smulevitz. Jayden is from JADON, which is Hebrew for "God has heard"; I'm going to spell it phonetically to make it easier on the kid. Tivon is Hebrew for "nature lover" (just a coincidence that they're both Hebrew names, but Daddy should be proud).
I went to the doctor yesterday for another ultrasound. They found a small area in his chest where he is retaining fluid. This means that the anemia caused by the Rh disease has started. My antibody is attacking his red blood cells. I have an amnio scheduled for the 13th, the day before my 30th birthday. The doctor said fluid retention like this in larger areas can lead to stillbirth.

October 13, 1997

I had the amnio today. My cousin Amy came down from Monterey to hold my hand. The procedure is MAJOR YUCKY and afterwards I was cramping and it hurt to move quickly. Luckily today is Native American Slaughter and Enslavement Day (Columbus Day) and I had the day off with pay. I'm resting and not lifting a finger for as long as I can get away with it.

October 14, 1997

Went to Benihana for my birthday, with Mommy and Danny and Danny's girlfriend Mala. I've been calling Mala "Auntie", I really like her and would be proud to have my son claim her as an Aunt, even if she wasn't with my brother!! But I'm glad they're together, they seem really happy. I'd never been to Benihana, and boy is it an Experience!! I'm so stuffed, Jayden is kicking the mess out of me for the first time!! I guess all that food crowded him and made him wake up and be noticed. It's a beautiful feeling, indigestion and all!!

October 20, 1997

I have to go back on the 27th for another amnio. This time I have to take off work, because I know I won't feel like going afterward. I'm really scared and I don't know how to handle this, it's so hard to stay upbeat and not stress. I cry almost every day, sometimes about little stuff but it all comes down to I DON'T KNOW IF HE'S GOING TO MAKE IT. I don't want to bury another child. I think it would crush my soul.

October 28, 1997

I had the 2nd amnio yesterday. Mommy went with me to hold my hand. It's just awful. They stick a long needle in your abdomen to draw out amniotic fluid. It stings, then it cramps. I can feel the fluid being drawn out. It sucks. Afterwards I always cramp for a while, and feel lousy. I move real slow the rest of the day.
I think they're checking the level of the baby'sbilirubin. It will tell the doctors whether to have me come back for an amnio in two weeks, one in one week, or to start the in utero blood transfusions. I'm praying for an amnio in two weeks. I hate the things, but it's better than the transfusion.

2002-10-08T17:59:00.000-07:00

September 29, 2002

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oakland High

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I

My first day of high school was actually the fourth day of school. There was a group of us late enrollees, and some parents, gathered in the theater for orientation. We were given schedules and xeroxed maps to find our way around Oakland High. A light-skinned girl with a curl plopped down in the seat beside me. "Hi" she said. "I'm Casey."
"I'm Mandy."
"What school you come from?"
"Um, I went to McChesney in 7th and 8th, but I was in San Jose last year."

Casey'd gone to Roosevelt. She pointed out people she knew in the theater, and I did too. She saw two friends of hers and called them over. They were Angie and Deninge. Angie was loud like Casey, and Deninge was cute and demure, but had a loud laugh. We all compared our schedules to see which classes we shared, and when the assembled students were sent to the school cashier to get locker assignments, we all went over there together. In the line ahead of us was a girl who was looking kind of lost. She looked like she needed someone to talk to. I asked her her name. She was Jeanne, and she'd just moved to Oakland from Palo Alto. She didn't know anyone at Oakland High and she was dressed a lot more conservatively than we were. She was really nice. We compared our schedules with Jeanne's and when we got our lockers they were all next to each other.

That day I discovered that Angie, Casey, and Deninge all knew Eric, who'd gone to McChesney with me. And I also discovered that from kindergarten to second grade we'd all been at Manzanita Elementary together; Angie and I had even had the same kindergarten teacher, but her class was in the afternoon and mine was in the morning.

They all introduced me & Jeanne to Jessie, who was hanging out with Eric. Eric and Jessie are gay, and the atmosphere at OHS was pretty accepting. They were both out and nobody really tripped off it. There were a lot of gay kids at school. Eric looks kind of Princey, and of course we were all insane about Prince, and Eric looked so cute in his Rude Boy tee shirt.

We had lunch together that first day, and as the school year went on we spent most of our lunches and breaks together. None of our families had much money, and sometimes we were short lunch money or whatever. We all looked out for each other, feeding whoever didn't have a lunch that day or treating someone to a snack. Some of us had jobs. I babysat several nights a week to get spending money.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

II

From the first month of school, we were cutting classes. Turned out everyone except Jeanne and Casey smoked weed, so when we could get five bucks together we'd go buy a nickel bag - which in 1982 would make five fat joints.

Casey didn't need to smoke weed. She was goofy as hell. Me and Angie were, too, but Casey was a damn fool. She had a joke a minute and loved to mess with people. Whenever we were walking down the street we could count on Casey to bust some stupid ass dance move and crack everyone up. She did pratfalls, too. She was hella silly.

We finally got Jeanne to hit the weed. She was so cute the first time she got high. And the second and third times, too. I didn't feel as if I were corrupting her. Of course not! I was 15! I just wanted my friend to have fun with us.

In the mornings we'd all meet somewhere in the vicinity of the Quik Stop by Highland Hospital. I lived up across the street from McChesney; Jeanne was up the hill from Highland; Angie, Deninge and Eric all lived in the 20's, what we called the Momos back then. Casey and Jessie were over by San Antonio park. We'd meet as early as we could and discuss whether or not we were going to our first-period classes. I was pretty good about cutting maybe once or twice a week for the first few months of school, but my good behavior tapered off as the year progressed.

One morning we'd all gathered on someone's front steps and were discussing our plans for the day. It was sunny and warm and we all decided we weren't going to our first class, and we might just stay gone until lunch. Up on the porch, the front door opened and we all jumped. A guy in his late twenties, early thirties, said "Hey, what are you guys doing?"
We all apologized and started gathering our books to leave. The guy sauntered out to the top of the steps. "Aren't you guys late for school?"
One of us, probably myself or Angie, told him that we all had no class for 1st period so we hung out together in the mornings before going to our 2nd period classes. It was a classic cap, one to be proud of. He totally believed us. He introduced himself, we told him our names, and he said we could hang out on his steps as long as we kept being quiet and respectful. His wife came out and he introduced her to us. They went back inside and we left a little while later - walking in the opposite direction of Oakland High. It was a Berkeley kind of morning, we'd finally agreed.

We hung out on the couple's steps a few mornings a week for the rest of the school year. They'd always greet us and one cold morning when it was just me, Angie and Deninge, they brought us out some hot chocolate. One day there was a "for sale" sign in the front yard. When the guy came out to say hi he said yeah, they were moving to a bigger house, because his wife was pregnant. They were gone a month later, and we found another place to congegrate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

III

We were taken back to school in police cars a few times. One of our spots was at the top of some winding stairs in a cul-de-sac across from Oakland High. The stairs were shaded by trees and were filled with students during lunch time. We smoked weed and Newports and talked a lot of shit and from time to time we'd get fussed at by the neighbors.

Sometimes we'd just stay on the stairs after lunch was over. We might chill there for a while, and go into class late, or figure out where to go and then bounce for the rest of the day. One day me, Angie, Deninge and Eric were on the stairs after lunch. We were smoking a joint when we saw a police car drive onto the cul-de-sac below us and stop. We jumped up and started walking up the stairs, but when we got to the street above there was a police car and an officer standing in front of it. "Get in the car" he told us. We told him we were going to class. He said "You're walking the wrong way. Get in the car."

We were brought back to school and Mr Kreuzer, the dean, gathered us in his office and lectured us and confiscated our cigarettes and called our parents. Then he sentenced us all to a month of detention and sent us to our classes. Kreuzer didn't reward truancy with suspension.

The pack of Newports Mr Kreuzer had taken from me held about ten cigarettes. And one joint. When I opened my cigarette packs I would leave the little foil fold in place so I could close the pack and not lose any smokes. I was hoping Mr Kreuzer had thrown the pack away without investigating it. I went to all my classes the rest of that week and held my breath whenever I walked past the school offices. I saw Mr Kreuzer a few times and we said "hi" and by the end of the week I knew that he hadn't found the joint. I was relieved and the next Monday I was ready to cut school again.

2002-10-06T21:55:00.000-07:00

Chocolate all over like an Almond Joy;
joy to my world, if this world
were mine, I could
lick you
anywhere
juicy
you're the one who
makes me feel so good,
cutie pie
you turned on my fire
and your love is
on the one.
I'd rather be with you;
when I'm
with you
I concentrate
on you,
sugar you know
I've had a few, but
not that many, and
as we lay I'm
fortunate.
Before I met you
my sun
didn't want to shine.
Write that down
make me say it
again
sweet sticky thing
why dontcha
do me
baby.

2002-09-26T23:56:00.000-07:00

Today my dog is 9 years old. I wrote this blog entry two years ago, on September 27, 2000

BRANDY

Brandy and I were brought together by destiny, if you will. When I met her, I was with my play-sister, Angie. We were watching "Beethoven" with my nephews Chris and Angelo. The neighborhood dopefiend came by with this tiny puppy. She was trying to sell her. I took her in my hands - she was so little - and her amber eyes just melted me. She crawled along my arm and buried her face in my side. I told the chick "you ain't getting her back".

All I had was 5 bucks, and I gave it to her. What was I doing? I lived in a studio apartment with a crochety cat and a lazy man. But I hadn't had a dog in my life since my Dalmatian, Pandora, who was with me from age 8 to 18. Angie offered to keep the dog at her house, and the boys promised to take care of her when I wasn't there.

I was sipping on a glass of Hennessey and Coca Cola. The puppy was roughly the same color as the cognac in the bottle and I thought about naming her Hennessey. The boys offered some names, but then Angie said "name her Brandy, like in that song by the Whispers." So Brandy she became. Besides, Angelo couldn't say "Hennessey" anyway.

Brandy was covered with fly-bite sores and was walking on three legs, because she'd been stepped on. She was filthy and had fleas, and her eyes were all crusty. I sent Angie's stepbrother out for some puppy chow and cleaned her up. We were trying to figure out what kind of dog she was. Chris said he knew her mother, she was a stray dog whose owners moved away and left her and she just hung out in the neighborhood (I'm sure these people have had some very bad things happen to them for doing that to their dog). This stray was an all-black Chow mix.

Brandy was a pretty reddish chestnut color, with some black markings on her face and cute little folded over ears. She had a skinny little slip of a tail and tiny white paws. The first day or so that we had her she didn't seem very playful. But once she'd gotten clean and had eaten some food, she started acting like a real puppy. Angie laid newspaper down in the bathroom and made the boys keep her in there most of the time. She's a cat person and only tolerates certain dogs. But because her boys wanted a dog so much, she decided to try to warm up to Brandy.

A few days after I bought Brandy, I took her to the vet to try to figure out how old she was. The vet estimated her age at 5 weeks; counting down from that day, five weeks ago would have been September 27th. That had been Liebschen's birthday.

If you've ever had a German Shepherd in your family, then you know what I mean when I say that Liebschen was my nanny. The minute my parents brought me home from the hospital, Liebschen took it upon herself to be my guardian. She would only let my parents come near me, and a year and a half later she was the same way towards Danny. Liebschen was a beloved part of our family so I considered it a good sign that Brandy's birthday was going to be the same as hers.

A couple weeks later I took Brandy in to get her first puppy shots. Instead of taking her back to Angie's that night, I took her home so I could monitor her. She had a fever and was quite lethargic most of the night. I had her in a little shoebox, and had to lift her head to make her drink some water. In the morning she felt better, and was bouncing around my apartment, trying to get close enough to my cat Misha to get a good smell. My boyfriend was instantly sprung on Brandy. He wouldn't let me take her back to Angie's.

I bought Brandy a crate so I could housetrain her correctly. I bought a bunch of pheremone-treated absorbent pads and had her housetrained in less than a month. But one night when she'd been living with us for about two weeks my boyfriend got tired of hearing her whine because she had to sleep by herself, in the crate next to our bed. Not only did he bring her into our bed, but the next day he taught her how to get onto the bed. She was ruined for life. I haven't gotten her off the bed yet!

Brandy is still that gorgeous, well, brandy color. She doesn't have the black markings on her face anymore; just black "eyeliner", and a thin white streak that runs between her eyes. Her ears stand up straight and make her look a lot like a fox. She has beautiful, thick tufts of hair behind her ears and her ruff is thick and white. Her belly is white, too, and her feet, which are small and dainty. Her little slip of a tail has grown into the most gorgeous chestnut and white plume, that curls over her back and gives her a definitely regal look.

My dog loves tennis balls, running in open fields, and belly rubs. She loves men and kids, but has no patience for babies or toddlers, or for other dogs. She believes that she was put on earth to chase all cats and squirrels. She kills possums. She swims like a water spaniel and herds like a border collie. She's the stuck up chick at the dog park that all the other dogs want to play with. But Brandy, diva that she is, won't give them the time of day. She's smart as a whip, and damn near quick as one, too. She's fiercely loyal and jealous. And today, she's seven years old.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

2002-09-19T06:11:00.000-07:00

Samantha
July 16, 1999

I don't remember how I met Samantha. Seems like I always knew her, but my first memory of her is from the seventh grade. We were 13, and I already knew her somehow. Maybe we just knew OF each other, and had never spoken before. Samantha, AKA Candie, opened the door to Mr Regello's geography class and poked her head in.

"Psst! Ay!" She said to someone she knew. This was more interesting than Mr Regello. I don't remember who she was talking to, but she was trying to get whoever it was to go somewhere with her. I watched her while she stood there talking. I was intrigued by her because she was bold, loud, and pretty, and kind of wild and popular, and she was a blonde girl like me.

Samantha looked around at the people in the class and saw me watching her.

"Hi Amanda!" she said.
I said "Hi!", glad to be included in her conversation.
"Come with me" she insisted, "c'mon, tell Mr Regello you got to go".

Mr Regello was completely oblivious to what was going on at the door to his class. Sometimes he would be in front of his maps, his back turned to the class, and some of the boys would step out of the window and onto the cafeteria roof. He never caught them.

I remember saying "huh?" and asking Samantha what she wanted me to say. I think I ended up telling Mr Regello I had to go to the nurse or something. It was almost lunchtime and for thirty minutes Samantha & I wandered around McChesney. She had me look in a classroom to see if a boy she liked was there that day. We showed each other where our lockers were, and discovered that we both had the same counselor, Mr Pascoa. He looked like Poncerelli. I had lunch at her table that day.

Soon we were thick as thieves. Candie and Mandy. She was full of schemes. I would go along with some of them, but she kept trying to get me to cut school. I was too scared. But she wore me down.

One morning she was at the bus stop when I got to school. She grabbed my elbow and started walking me towards the far entrance. "You ain't goin to school today" she hissed in my ear. I looked at her and I guess I looked scared, because she laughed.
"C'mon, Mandy, please? These girls from Bret Harte are supposed to be comin up here to fight me. I don't wanna be around here today".

Samantha was always fighting or finna fight somebody. She had a smart mouth and was like a bulldog when it came to backing down from a challenge. I totally believed her.

We walked down 13th Ave to MacArthur, and then ran across the freeway overpass, looking over our shoulders every few feet. We turned on E 34th and stood panting. She was grinning. I was too.

"Ditch your books" she told me.
"What?"
"Ditch your books! Put 'em under that bush". She pointed to a juniper in someone's front yard. I tucked my binder and my math book out of sight. Then Samantha led me down three or four streets until we came to a blue house.
"My friend lives here. His mama is out of town so we can kick it". I just went along with whatever Samantha suggested. I was way out of my element.

She knocked on the door and a boy our age answered it.
"Hey Candie, what's up? C'mon in y'all." Inside there were two other boys. I knew one of them by sight, but I'd never spoken to him. I'd never seen the the other two.

They were Cedric, Del and Michael. I knew who Del was, because he went to our school. Cedric and Michael went to Roosevelt. We all sat down on the couches in the living room and Samantha pulled out a pack of Newports. She lit it and offered me one. I looked at her like she was crazy. "Just try it", she teased.

I tried it. It was hella nasty, but I took it like a man. And coughed a lot. One of the boys, Cedric, was sitting next to me. He showed me how to inhale. I didn't like it. Then Del took a joint out of his cigarette pack and lit it. It was passed around. Samantha told me in a low voice, "You better hit that. Don't be a punk". So I hit it. I hit it each time it came around. We were listening to KSOL 107.7. I remember hearing One Nation Under a Groove and Shake Your Pants that day. And Kenny Loggins, This Is It.

We smoked a lot of weed and cigarettes. We drank red Kool Aid. Everyone was laughing a lot. Cedric had his arm around me and was asking me a hundred questions that sounded hella funny to me. I laughed at him and he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I said "no". He asked me if I knew how to french kiss. I said "no". He told me he would show me. Samantha was all hugged up with Del so I didn't really feel like I should turn his offer down. Michael had already punked out and was laying down in his room.

I'd kissed two boys before, but they were those closed mouth kisses where you pucker up your lips and rub your mouths together for a long time. Cedric put his arms around me and closed his eyes and started kissing me. I kept my eyes open. He licked my lips with his tongue and I laughed. He laughed too but pulled me back again and this time I let him play with my lips. It was really nice. I kept watching him the whole time. Taking notes. I opened my mouth and he stuck his tongue in, and it was the oddest sensation I'd ever had. Someone else was licking their tongue in my mouth. Up until that moment the very idea of it had always been kind of gross. But I started to dig it.

He rubbed my chest but the only reason I wore a bra was because I was 13. I had to have a bra. Even though I didn't have anything to put in it. We kissed for a long time. Eventually Michael came out the room and announced that he had the munchies.

Everyone else did too, so we left out the blue house and walked back up towards McChesney. It was lunchtime at Oakland High, and there were groups of big kids walking up and down the street, hanging out in front of the corner store (Only 2 Students Allowed At A Time!) or the Cable Car.

Greasy burritos and salty chips and blue soda. That's what Samantha & I always got at the Cable Car. But that had always been after school, and here it was lunchtime, when we were usually in the cafeteria being loud and cliquey, and we were in the Cable Car with Oakland High kids.

I was in awe of them. The girls were so cool and pretty, and the boys were so nasty. But cute. We got our food and ate it outside in front of the diner. Cedric gave me his number and kept talking about kicking it. Del and Michael were throwing jalapenos at each other. Samantha was talking to some Oakland High kids she knew. And then Stoney rolled up on us.

Stoney was the big ass security guard who wandered around the grounds of McChesney, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. He had a jheri curl. He was loud and fast and if you got caught doing something, he'd march your ass down to the office loud-talking you so anyone you passed knew exactly what you'd done.

Stoney walked up on us and Samantha took off running. I stood there stuck on stupid. Del walked hella fast around the corner of the Cable Car. Cedric and Michael just watched us get busted. They went to Roosevelt, they didn't care. Stoney ran past Samantha and stopped in front of her. She stopped and hung her head. I was still on pause.

We were taken to the office. Stoney clowned us the whole time.
"Standin out there messin with boys, y'all should be ashamed." I heard kids giggling and kept my eyes on the floor.

We were suspended. I didn't tell my mom about the smoking or the kissing, but what she knew was bad enough: I'd cut school and gotten suspended. She kicked my ass. I was on restriction for hella long, and warned to stay away from Samantha. I didn't.

Samantha got me in trouble, scrapes, adventures and dramas. Over and over, she'd come up with some plan or another. Pretty soon I started adding ideas. We cut school all the time. We turned square kids out. We smoked cigarettes and weed and kissed boys and one day I drank some Pink Champale. It was nasty. We got in fights and got our asses kicked and beat some girls up and ran & jumped fences to get away from fights. We got caught by Stoney and, one time, Mr Pascoa was coming into school late and saw us walking down 14th Ave. We were suspended that time too.

I don't recommend badness to any kid. I hope my son doesn't read this until he's got a degree or two. But Samantha and I built our friendship on juvenile delinquency, and some of my fondest memories are of some scandless shit.

Yeah. She turned me out.

2002-09-19T03:51:00.000-07:00

The 40 Goin Norty
December 14, 2001

Tonight I rode the 40L bus out to East Oakland to get my son from my mom's. It brought back memories, for real. I rode the 40 for years and years. The route's changed a bit over the years - back in the day it would continue eastbound after Foothill becomes MacArthur at 73rd Avenue, but now it turns south on 73rd and then east at, I think, Bancroft.

It's a long line, from San Leandro through East Oakland, downtown, North Oakland, to downtown Berkeley via Telegraph Ave. The 40L makes limited stops, every third or fourth one through the East Side. It was the first bus I ever rode by myself, when I was seven. When I was in the Oakland Children's Chorus I caught the 40 out to Beebe Memorial church on the North Side twice a week, on Wednesdays after school and on Saturdays.

I caught the 40 from 51st Ave and Foothill down to the pool at Fremont High, where I learned to swim. We caught the 40 to 27th Street and Telegraph to shop at Sears and the Wherehouse. I rode the 40 to transfer to the 18, which took me to McChesney Junior High and later to Oakland High. The 40 was the bus I rode to get to summer school at Castlemont, and in the 12th grade I rode the 40 to 23rd Ave and walked a couple blocks to the Oakland Emiliano Zapata Street Academy. Most importantly, the 40 goin Norty was the bus that took us to Berkeley, where we'd cut school and hang out in People's Park or buy pizza at Blondie's and cause as much trouble as we could think up.

Man, the 40 used to be a crazy ride. Sometimes you could get a contact on the 40. I got in fights on the 40. Usually there'd be a fool or two somewhere along the line, and that'd provide plenty of entertainment. In the late 80's I lived up by 106th Ave and I worked downtown, on Franklin Street. Sometimes it took that damn 40 an hour and a half to get downtown. Then they started the 40L with the limited stops, and I was hella happy. I used to catch the bus home in front of the Tribune building, before the 40 started turning left at 11th instead of 13th. Often I'd sit at the bench and smoke a half a joint waiting for the bus. I enjoyed being high and trippin off the crazy mofos on the bus.

I haven't smelled smoke, weed or Newport, on a bus in years. If people still fight on the bus I don't see it. Maybe it's just cause I'm older now, and I don't see the secret crazy society of the young anymore. But the 40, the 57 and the 82, all buses that used to be pretty rowdy, are quite mellow these days.

Tonight's ride was cramped, and there was an unfortunate man who smelled pretty awful. Even though it was freezing there were windows open, and most of us around him covered our noses. Fortunately for me, he got off the bus soon after I got on. At Eastmont (can't call it The Mall anymore, cause a mall it ain't) there's a new metro center for the buses, and I got off there and caught the 57 six blocks down MacArthur towards my mom's house. Jayden had been sick, and was with my mom the past two and a half days. As interesting as it was riding the 40L again, wasn't no way in hell I was gonna ride an hour on the bus with my baby. So I dropped a twomp and took a cab all the way back home, to my nice little hurray-I-escaped-the-ghetto apartment.

And if anyone, anyone at all, out there in blogland knows what the "AC Mob" was, you are certifiably O Town Old Skool and u should send me an email.

2002-09-19T03:27:00.000-07:00

April 6, 2001

Aspirations ambitions
falling to the wayside
picked up by no one
faith restored by nothing.

futility looms
failure threatens
giving up won't work.
but still...

if you can't depend on yourself
then there's no one else
and if no one's around at all
you're really alone.

how do you pull yourself
up out of the depths?
I mean from a really deep place.

can you do it alone,
is what I want to know.

can you do it even if
there's no one around?
even if not one person
calls
or comes by
to see that you're okay?

or, since no one can be bothered,
do you just accept
that shit is really bad
and feel sorry for yourself?

what do you do
when you hate who you are
and how you are
and no one is telling you
that you shouldn't?
that you're worth giving a fuck about?

2002-09-08T19:31:00.000-07:00

I love this blog. I love the colors, and the way it looks. I heart Blogger and Blogspot, too. But I can't upload images (for free), and the free commenting out there is too inconsistent. I've been given the gift of free hosting and I'm pretty satisfied with the tweaking I've done to the new Possibly Interesting, so go ahead and update your links. And thanks for reading.

2002-09-08T14:45:00.000-07:00

The man that I'm seeing is very nice and very sweet, but I can't be his girlfriend. We're having a lot of fun but there's too much of myself I would have to compromise to be his woman, and I'm not down with that.

I met another man last week. He took me out to lunch. Unfortunately, I didn't realize when I met him that he's totally thugged out. And dumb as dirt. Thank goodness he decided not to call me again - even though he complimented me shamelessly on my eyes, my feet, my hair and the way I walk - because I'd hate to have to tell him to lose my number.

That other man, my friend who asked me out a few weeks ago, is okay with me keeping his offer open. He's kind, decent, and attractive; but we see each other every day and that's a bit close for comfort right now. I would hate it if things didn't work out romantically and it affected our day-to-day contact.

I've been crushing on yet another man for quite some time. Crushes are good. They're safe, for me, because I rarely act on them. And this particular man has a significant other, which means I won't ever reveal my crush. I'd never do that to his woman, whom I've never met but admire anyway. All I'll ever do is enjoy knowing him and feel a secret little rush of pleasure when he turns his attention in my direction.

Jayden told me the other day that he wants me to have a husband. I told him I want me to, too, but it takes a long time to find someone you want to marry. He asked me if I wanted to marry -----, and I said no, he's just a very good friend. Jayden said I should marry him because he "plays with me and gives me quarters for the games".

If only it were that simple.

2002-09-08T11:54:00.000-07:00

Jayden: "Mama, next time, we're gonna go to the jooey factory, because they have the shiiiiiiiiiny gold rings, the ones that fit your ears".

Me: "You want to buy me some earrings, honey?"

Jayden: "Yeah, because you're a nice mama and you need some shiiiiiiiiny gold".

Me: "Well, Jayden, you know earrings cost a lot of money".

Jayden: "Oh, yes, but I have a job, Mama".

Me: "Oh, you do? What kind of job do you have?"

Jayden: "I'm a race car driver! And I never crash. So I can buy all the jooey in the jooey factory for you".

2002-09-07T10:03:00.000-07:00

What marketing genius thought up this name? Probably someone who believes anorexia is a lifestyle, not a killer disease. Sick. And irresponsible.

I have a (irrational?) fear of meningitis. This is as bad, or worse. I'm mostly afraid that Jayden will catch it, because kids are always more at risk of dying from serious diseases. And I'd given the whole West Nile story little attention - I'd been in the it's-far-away-so-I-ain't-trippin mindset. No more denial, I guess. Yikes.

Michele posted an entry about a group in upstate NY that is planning a protest at "ground zero" on 9/11/01 against "illegal immigration" because migrant workers are "destroying" their community. I was going to link to the entry and the article, but it looks like aliens have taken over her page. I sure hope no one's hacked her site, that would be some fucked up stanky shit.
Update: her post, and the bigots she wrote about.

My first search referral for the new blog is "not just knee deep". I'm the 1st & 2nd results! I'm just tickled about that, I must say.

2002-09-06T19:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was sort of a non-productive day. Actually, I'm lying, because I hung out with Gwen & she gave me a crash intro to CSS. And a bunch of resources to learn more. And we (really, she with me looking over her shoulder) moved things around and made some tables and got the new blog starting to look the way I want it to.

For the most part we sat around and smoked and talked and noshed and enjoyed each other's company. No kids, no boyfriend, just us grrls hanging around the house. I did my nails and checked out one of her Giant Robot mags. I adore Giant Robot. They have all the kEwLiEsT
stuff. It's a good thing I don't live in SoCal or I'd spend way too much scrilla there.

We had coffee in kids' mugs with lots of milk and she even keeps Equal in her kitchen. Later we walked downtown to handle some bidness and we wanted to get something to eat. We had a Burger King budget but sure didn't want no BK. I was trying to think of a cheap place to go, and then remembered the Hawaiian Walk In over on 15th. Gwen said she'd seen it but never tried it, so the Walk In it was. On the way there we passed a tiny, dark little shop with vintage clothes hanging in front.

How could we resist? They had some rockin coats and prom dresses and every kind of polyester pant you could hope for. A nice West African man came out of the back and greeted us, then left us alone to browse. In the back of the store there's what we figured was a shrine, with a framed picture of Michael Jackson wearing his Thriller-era face, and a record album by some African female singer. The store has tons of old shoes, most of them way too small for my feet, but I did see a well-worn pair of purple Doc Martens that looked big enough.

We oohed and aahed over stuff and Gwen tried on a really cute pink jacket that I think she should've bought, but since we weren't buying, and since we were really hungry, we cut the browsing short and went down the block to eat.

The Hawaiian Walk In is a bare-bones hole-in-the-wall that makes delicious Hawaiian food. We had the chicken katsu, which is chicken breasts battered in something that's almost like the confectioners' corn flakes they use in Butterfinger bars. It's deep fried until it's crunchy, and they cut it into strips before serving. Their plates come with two scoops of rice and one of macaroni salad. And their macaroni salad is The Best I've Ever Tasted. Big elbow macaroni, shredded carrots, and the creamiest dressing. Mmm. I always order one scoop of rice and two of macaroni. Gwen followed my lead, and I'm pretty sure she enjoyed it 'cause she polished it off. But neither one of us could finish our chicken - we ate a bunch of it & we both still had enough to take home & feed our kids with.

Go give the Hawaiian Walk In some business - they've got some good food that won't leave you broke (or hungry).

2002-09-05T19:22:00.000-07:00

I hate pricking my fingers. So I don't do it every day. I'm supposed to, two or three times daily. It sucks. I hope this is available soon, and I sure as hell hope that wristwatch ain't buttugly...something glam and sparkly, of course, would be perfect.

2002-09-05T04:01:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that I've got something else going on in the blogiverse (all thanks & praise go to my lovely host). I'm doing simultaneous posting until I can get the template figured out & make it look like mine. In the meantime, you can keep reading me here, or you can update your links now if you like. You won't miss anything either way, I promise.

2002-09-05T03:56:00.000-07:00

My first Nam Nam post is up!

2002-09-04T21:16:00.000-07:00

100% pure, unadulterated fluff:

I am Chocolate Flavoured.

I am sweet and a little bit naughty. I am one of the few clinically proven aphrodisiacs. Sometimes I can seem a little hard, but show warmth and I soon melt.

What Flavour Are You?

****************************

What Was Your Past Life?

****************************

What Snack Food are YOU?

****************************

You are Carl Sandburg
You see the world in a different way than your peers and are able to find beauty in the most unusual places!

Take the Which Poet are You? Quiz - brought to you out of boredom and pretension!

2002-09-04T20:32:00.000-07:00

Collage:

Grace is something not present in many people. Hurting feelings, misconstruing words, jumping the gun, can all sever lines of communication; some people can make things right just by the grace of their words/actions. It's a delight when you come across someone like that.

Some men look 20x better after they take that damn doo-rag off their head.

A whine-less morning can tint your entire day rosy.

There are very few places where I always feel at peace; one is the little Japanese garden tucked into the horticultural gardens at Lake Merritt. While there today I saw a turtle sitting on some leaves in the middle of the pond, but no koi. The water was cloudy, and no fish. What does that mean? I was disappointed.

Autumn is coming, and Autumn is good. It's the best time of the year, really. It's the time of year that I chose to make my entrance into the world, and it's the time of year I feel my best. It's also the most productive - creatively speaking - time of year for me.

I don't drink nearly as many sugar-free caramel lattes as I would like to.

2002-09-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

I'd just had emergency surgery to repair a hernia on August 31st. I came home on September 7th. I had a big piece of plastic covering the hole in my abdomen and lots of painkillers. Jayden and Brandy were at my mom's; I was alone all day and I couldn't move much at all. I spent most of those first days home sitting on my big lounge chair, propped up with pillows. I talked on the phone and watched TV or read. I was in terrible pain; it hurt to move, and I had a plastic drainage bulb hanging from my gut which irritated and annoyed me. I was in a daze much of the time, from the pain and the strong narcotics.

The morning of the 11th I woke up around 5:30, after only a few hours of sleep. It was Jayden's first day at Head Start, and my brother was going to pick him up from my mom's and take him to school. I was slightly depressed that I couldn't be there to meet his teachers and see him off, but I was also excited about this new step he was taking.

It took me almost a half hour to make it to the bathroom and then to the kitchen for some breakfast. Once I'd settled back down on the lounge chair I turned on the TV, expecting to see the KTVU morning anchors and get my news fix on.

Instead, there was a CNN feed from Manhattan, showing the twin towers of the World Trade Center on fire.

"Oh fuck!" I thought. Another bombing. I watched in horror as CNN played minutes-old footage of planes crashing into the buildings. My entire body went cold, from my scalp down. I called my mother.

"Mommy! Turn on the TV!" I yelled, like millions of people that morning.

MORE...

2002-09-03T11:49:00.000-07:00

The three day weekend turned out to be uncomfortably hot, but enjoyable just the same. Saturday we stayed mostly in the house, with the fans on. Sunday was the same - it was just too hot to go outside, and I didn't want to risk getting a sunburn on my face like I did at Temescal last week. I couldn't do a damn thing all day. After dark I gathered our laundry together and we went to the wash house.

I've got a friend I met there, yes that's right, a friend. The neck kisser. I've gotten kisses a few other places lately. I must say, it's awfully nice to be "involved" with a man again. Sunday nite we managed to finagle some together time and I'm a happy girl.

Monday, Labor Day, was my sister in law's 34th. We hung out at my brother's and ate BBQ and caught up. Mala's mama and brothers were there, along with my mom, Mala's younger brother Monti's friend, two of Mala's girlfriends, and coolest of all, I got to meet a cousin I never knew. Daniel is actually the nephew of my cousin's wife, but hey, that's family. He grew up in Chicago, like damn near all of my family, and just started school at Berkeley. He's a history major, I believe. A very cool guy who I hope to see/hang out with again soon.

Danny manned the grill, as usual, and made his delicious beef/pork/other stuff burgers. Mala and Mama Datta hooked up some beans, homemade biscuits (to DIE for) and the sweetest corn on the cob I've had in a while (no sugar in the water, even). There was a yummy chocolate brownie cake which I of course didn't taste, but everyone else praised it. We watched the A's kick ass and Mala's older brother Kevin took pictures with his sharp new digital camera, when he wasn't trying to figure out how it worked. I took some pix too, but my camera's cheap and it usually takes horrible pictures; and I left it there, so I don't know yet if they came out looking like anything. Jayden had brought a brand spankin new pack of sidewalk chalk and he and Danny drew on the front steps. Danny wrote "HOT" and Jayden wrote it too...although he wrote "OHO" on the right side of one step, and "T" on the left. I was tickled nonetheless.

I dig my brother and his friends, Mala's family and friends, I dig my family. We all have lots of cool ideas/opinions/experiences/jokes to bring to the table and Jayden always provides some comic/cute relief.

I had planned on checking out Art and Soul Oakland yesterday, but I'd gotten the invite to Danny & Mala's last week so of course that nixed the festival. Next year, for sure. George shared his jaunt with us...where's yours? I wanna see how much fun you had there, k?

2002-09-03T11:15:00.000-07:00

Jayden started his last year of preschool today. Most of the kids in his "big kid" class are his friends from last year, plus a few new ones & minus a few old ones. I'd intended on staying until nap time, but it was pretty hectic and the teachers suggested a day when everyone's been settled into the new room.

He's a big boy now. He knows so much. Jayden can read words like "go", "stop", "dog", and of course, his name. I keep saying he'll be reading soon, but really, he already is. He understands that words tell the stories in books, and he runs his finger from left to right under the text as he "reads" what he thinks the words say. I have him spell random words in his books as we read, and he completely gets it. He stalls over lowercase d and b, and gets confused by lowercase a when it's got that - what? I don't think it's a serif, is it? that hook over the round part. Other than that, he's got the letter recognition down. He even understands question marks and exclamatian points. He can count correctly up to around 15, and with a flub or two can get to 30. He can count the objects in a group and often does it unprompted. And my baby has mad grammar skills - even though I've gotten heat for saying things like "finna" and "I ain't got no" around him, he speaks pretty damn good English. He says "well" instead of "good" when appropriate, and his tenses are rarely misused. I'm a proud mama.

2002-09-01T18:29:00.000-07:00

Around about the end of 1988 I was staying in deep East Oakland, in the 100's. Me and a few other 20 and 21 year old chicks lived in a tore-up one bedroom apartment right on the ho stroll. There was all kinds of excitement right outside our door, but there were too many of us inside. We got on each other's nerves a lot.

We hit the streets to get some breathing space. One or two, or all of us, would hop the 40 goin' norty, to Berkeley, or to downtown Oakland to get on the A bus to The City and the Palladium. Or we'd catch the T to the Alameda Naval Air Station and turn out the Enlisted Men's club.

One night Angie and I were on the 40 bus, Berkeley bound, and we'd only gotten as far as Eastmont Mall when we saw commotion out the window. Blocks and blocks of cars, full of gangsterish brothers, boomin systems thumpin Too $hort and Rodney O. They were mostly going south towards Bancroft, and we could see more such goings on in the distance.

Fuck Berkeley, we decided. Something major was up.

MORE...

2002-08-31T17:42:00.000-07:00

Never - I repeat, never - fall asleep in the afternoon while your 4 1/2 year old is still up. Upon waking, you might find:

Every single tiny firefighter, construction worker and their associated tools strewn across your bed;
The entire contents of a 2.5 lb bag of shredded cheddar/jack cheese dumped on the kitchen floor and being feasted upon by the dog and cat;
Both hand-soap pump bottles - yours and his - emptied into the bathroom sink, toilet and bathtub;
Said 4 1/2 year old child wearing handfuls of curl activator gel in his hair.

And to top it all off, I somehow fell asleep when I was supposed to be getting ready to leave the house, so we missed going to Cordonices and seeing Gwen & them.

Excuse me, I have to go somewhere and scream at the top of my lungs for a while.

2002-08-30T17:10:00.000-07:00

Friday Five:

1. What's your favorite piece of clothing that you currently own?
A black gauzy peasant style blouse with flared sleeves and crocheted-lace trim. Because I'm trendy.

2. What piece of clothing do you most want to acquire?
The dress that doesn't exist: something longish and sparkly, that shows off my butt and not my tummy.

3. What piece of clothing can you not bring yourself to get rid of? Why?
Those jeans I bought back in '95, the ones that lace up the sides. Because even though I'll never fit 'em again, damn I looked good in 'em.

4. What piece of clothing do you look your best in?
See #1. Paired with my tight black denim leggings. Rowr.

5. What has been your biggest fashion accident?
A floral-print dress that was gorgeous on the rack but looked like a muu muu on me. And I didn't realize it until after I'd paid fifty bucks for it & lost the receipt, wore it to the zoo and saw the pictures. Eek!

2002-08-29T01:09:00.000-07:00

and, so, the director at the place where I went to work today decided that I wasn't the right match for the job. the temp agency didn't tell me it was an admin assistant position, which I've never done (although I know I could've done it), and they didn't tell me about the long hours that would have been required of me. but the office was the workforce investment board, and the people I was working with really dug me, and gave me some job leads, so oh well.

never got let go after only one day, though. from a real job, anyway. what a blow to my fuckin pride.

2002-08-27T15:15:00.000-07:00

<celebratory cabbage patch>The temp agency just called me, I've got an assignment starting tomorrow, at the City of Oakland, one or another of their offices, I'm not sure which. Yay me! Before the first unemployment check ever arrives, even.</celebratory cabbage patch>

2002-08-27T03:27:00.000-07:00

#41 no longer applies.

2002-08-24T19:37:00.000-07:00

Well, of course I couldn't be anyone but:

	You are Miss Piggy! You're something of a diva, but that's only because it would be a crime to let your looks and talent go to waste. Vous êtes magnifique!
*Take the What Muppet Are You?* Quiz!**

2002-08-23T19:26:00.000-07:00

Friday Five:

1. What is your current occupation? Is this what you chose to be doing at this point in your life? Why or why not?
I'm currently an unemployed mama. Most recently I was a lowly temp slave doing customer service. No, I ain't chose the shit, the shit chose me.

2. If time/talent/money were no object, what would your dream occupation be?
English teacher at Oakland Emiliano Zapata Street Academy, which would have been my alma-mater, if I'd gradjiated.

3. What did/do your parents do for a living? Has this had any influence on your career choices?
Daddy's a professional driver: 18 wheelers now, cablecars and buses when I was a kid. Mommy was a stay-at-home ubermom until I was a teenager, when she drove a cab. She's, um, retired now. Their careers didn't influence me at all, other than to convince me I don't want to drive a damn thing for a living.

4. Have you ever had to choose between having a career and having a family?
Hell yeah. I'd be working as a computer operator, production support, right now but all the jobs doin' that are at night & I just can't do that to Jayden.

5. In your opinion, what is the easiest job in the world? What is the hardest? Why?
Easiest: any kind of bureaucratic position, especially in a city/county/state/federal office doing some kind of clerical shit. Because you barely need any intellect at all.
Hardest: the same, because you have to deal with folx all day who have barely any intellect at all.

2002-08-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

So I ditched Enetation for NetComments because Enetation kept giving me error messages and finally became indefinitely disabled. I understand the complexities & problems free services like that entail so I'm not trippin. But I wasn't able to retrieve the comments folx had left before, which sucks a lil' bit.

So tell me, is my text too small on your browser? How easy is it for you to read what I've written? I'm curious. Plus, I'm hoin' for comments right now.

2002-08-23T18:03:00.000-07:00

Instant karma is great.

Now, I really have no love for the OPD. After your boyfriend comes home bruised & bloody from a police beating, and internal affairs gives you, at best, a run-around, you kinda lose all faith in the whole "protect and serve" thing. But - today, while driving down MacArthur, I stopped to let a pedestrian cross the street. This stretch of MacArthur is one lane, and the dudes in the Escalade behind me got all on my ass honking the horn, yelling out the window. My window was down and I gave them a dismissive wave - thinking fuck you, you want me to run somebody over? Well, they drove on my ass a few blocks, cussing at me out the window. I was going 27 in a 25 mph zone. Then as we passed a motel just before Coolidge, "WRRRROOOO" comes a patrol car out of the parking lot, and pulls the Escalade over.

Thanks, OPD. For once.

2002-08-21T01:49:00.000-07:00

I often wish I hadn't fucked around and bullshitted away my chances for a college education. I spent my 20's trippin off stupid shit and thinking I'd be straight forever 'cause I had a good job. I'm sure if I'd gotten myself some schoolin I'd actually have a career right now. I'm tired of starting over from the bottom of the heap. It sucks completely.

Tomorrow I have to drag Jayden first to the welfare office, where we've got to get food stamps started again and our Medi-Cal benefits extended. Then we have to go downtown to the Head Start office, to fill out all the paperwork & do the beginning-of-the-school-year interview & education plan thing. What sucks about this is that you have to have a letter from your employer to get your kid on a full day schedule; since I'm not working right now, he'll have to go from 9 to 3:30. This means that when I do get a job there's a mad scramble to get the letter on the first day of my new gig. What's triflin about Head Start is that they don't care if I'm working at a temp agency and need to be available at any time to work 8 to 5.

Shit, at least Head Start is out there. If I had to pay for school/childcare he'd be in the most horrible, ghetto ass daycare because that's all I'd be able to afford working these crappy jobs I've had the past coupla years. Either that, or with my mom, which is not much better. Well, it is better, but her apartment is tiny, and she lives in that same neighborhood you keep seeing on the front page of the Tribune. You know, the neighborhood where all the young black men are shooting at each other, the one with the street corner memorials on every other block. Yeah, that's where moms is at. So I don't exactly rest easy just 'cause Jayden's at Grandma's.

So, anyway, I've got all this to do tomorrow, and I'm up at 1:30 am because I can't sleep for shit. I've tried a coupla times but there's just too much in my brain right now. Some of it's cool, some of it's all fucked up. I'm still depressed, but I've had so much optimism lately that I'm not trippin off the blues all the time. Nights are still kinda bad. So I'm up and doing bullshit.

My play sister left a message on my answering machine last night. "I just wanted to let you know, if you see a big fire in San Jose on the news, and see our building, we're okay. It was the construction site behind us..." I didn't get the message until late, and I just thought good, I'm glad they're okay. Well, this afternoon I had the TV on for the first time (other than PBS kids in the am) in weeks. Turns out that was some big ass fire. The mayor of San Jose was down at the scene and holding press conferences and everything. They showed shots of Boo's apartments; the ones next to hers, I think, are the ones that burned down. The fire started at this big development under construction on like the next street over. All kinds of big SanJo mucky-mucks are involved with the project, it seems. I'm just glad Boo & my two nieces still have a home. I'm also glad she called me to tell me they were alright. She knows that if I'd seen her building on TV, all in the path of what they were calling an inferno, I'd have freaked the fuck out.

Sigh. I'm hungry but I don't want to eat. I've been feeling that way quite a bit lately. Once upon a time I would've been cool with that, with the calorie count going down and shit. But now that I have diabetes I'm not supposed to skip meals, and especially while taking the glucose-lowering medication. There are various reasons I'm not eating, and some of them are really stupid. Like, the kitchen is all fucked up and I'm lazy and I just don't want to deal with it, so I buy stuff that doesn't require much in the way of preparation or cooking. And since it's more expensive to eat that way, I don't really have enough money to feed both me & Jayden. At least he's eating more veggies lately, all I have to do is put some frozen broccoli in the 'wave, hook him up some tuna, and it's all good. And, I do cook shit he likes on the weekends, like spaghetti or enchiladas or something, and just nuke it during the week. Breakfast is easy; eggs in the microwave, waffles in the toaster, a banana or apple and some milk. Me, I have an egg and toast every morning. Haven't even had coffee in a while 'cause I'm too through to even clean out the damn coffee maker.

Well.

My favorite Peter Tosh songs are Til Your Well Runs Dry and No Sympathy.

I was all juiced about the new puter, and then when I tried to install The Sims it didn't work. Read all the little "read me" documents and found some IP thing which told me that my system has a speed of 224 and it needs 233 to run the damn thing. Gah.

The blog meetup thing is tomorrow evening, and according to the site it looks like there will only be four or five people there. I know folx got other commitments, gotta work, make dinner for the kiddos, stuff like that. But me & Gwen will be there, and some other people I've never met...so come on through if you can. I've even gotten my mom to almost promise to babysit.

2002-08-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

Jayden is wearing his Pooh pajama sleeper, one rainboot and one Spiderman slipper, his construction worker toolbelt, and a hard hat. He just came in my room and said "mama, we have to go to the bakery today, c'mon! The bakery people are selling all the things people like to eat, we have to go there, quick!"

2002-08-18T02:48:00.000-07:00

My girl M* gave me her mom's old PC yesterday. It's only like 4 years old, compared to the 7 years mine had on it. It's got mas memory, too. I'm completely stoked. Been downloading shit I needed & couldn't get on the old puter, transfering all my words & pix, installing programs. Listening to The Definition of Funk CD w/ the phones on. Right now: track 12, Snapshot by Slave.

Jayden's swim lessons are going, well, swimmingly. He's a natural. A lil' polliwog. He gets reinforcement after the 20 minute lessons, via family swim with grandma (I can't afford a membership, plus I ain't about to get my big ass in nobody's swimsuit). He can jump in the water, provided someone catches him. He puts his whole head underwater, and can float with support. He's working on the kicking thing; he doesn't quite get how to keep his legs up & straight.
I watch him through the big window over the pool, in the lobby. He's so into what he's doing, grinning the whole time. My mom has a ball, too. She gets some awesome one-on-one time with Jayden without the usual whiny and hyper behavior she has to deal with; and the extra exercise is cool for her.

Much of last year, and earlier this year, my mom had some scary hospitalizations and she'd been sick & weak much of the time. She hasn't gardened in over a year, which if you know my mom is quite serious. We definitely miss her lavender and sage.
She got herself a senior scholarship to the Y and has been swimming for a coupla months now. This week she began Fit Links, which is some sort of coached program. She's got more energy now than in years, and she's happier more often. She walks her dogs several times a week (poor Patch & Blaze weren't getting out much). It's awesome and I love to see her so healthy. Yay Mommy!

*M=marvelous mensa-member mama

2002-08-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

Body image. Mine is kind of awful. You know, it's such a huge part of being a woman. No matter what you teach your kids. When I was little, my mom wouldn't get me Barbies and she worked hard to keep showing me beauty in all shapes & sizes. Yet at the same time she'd always talk so negatively about her own looks. To this day she won't tell me what she weighs. She's never told me. I guess it's how I thought I should see myself, with a viciously critical eye.

I'm tall, with blue eyes, hair usually some shade of blonde. I had some redheaded years in the 90's. I've been called gorgeous. Beautiful. And the opposite, too. It's a trip, because I used to be a conceited bitch - and then became so self critical I ended up hating myself & hurting my own body. My weight was somewhere around 140 through the 80's, went from 150 to 300+ over the next decade. I went from thick to ick and I been hella fat for 5 years now. Since 8/31/01 I've lost over 80 lbs, and I think I've gained about 20 of that back. Mostly because of this recent rash of ill habits.

See, I've been doggin my own self out. Like I and I ain't even folx. Used & abused my temple and it took medical emergencies to get me to wake up and do some damn thing about it. And lately I've been hurting me again, but I think I'm seein what I'm doin from a healthier perspective. It's a trip. I feel hella optimistic about dealin with it all though, which is so where I need to be. To start. I'm loving me again, and it feels so good.

Don't get it twisted. Fat people are beautiful. We really are. We are so much more than the sum of our ample parts. A good deal of us have some shitty issues, and who wouldn't when people, words, images, are always reminding us of how horrible being fat is. It's really not that bad. Yeah, we need to get fit. We should take care of ourselves, always. But we can't keep comparing ourselves to fitness models and video chicks and Gwyneth freaking Paltrow. I know you know a beautiful fat person. We all do. They're the ones we need to look to for inspiration. Look to me, let me inspire you. And I'll be inspired by your beauty, too. I love me these days. Cause I'm beautiful. And you are beautiful, too.

2002-08-16T07:11:00.000-07:00

When I got home last nite I got busy. Cleaning house. Bout time. I was high, feelin good. Turned on 98.1 and Watching You was on. I jammed for a minute. I miss dancing. Then I just cleaned, blogged, cleaned, danced, and listened to the old school all nite. I heard Fire and Desire, Shining Star, Forever Mine, Close the Door, No Parking on the Dance Floor, Sexual Healing, Yearning for your Love, Don't Disturb this Groove, and hella other old school jams & some newer shit. Discussed thangs on IM with various folx, got this link from George. Topical as all hell. For the record (heh!), I really like "Grindin". But I wouldn't let Jayden learn that shit.

Now I'm listening to George Clinton & the P-Funk All Stars on Tom Joyner. I couldn't have picked a better night/morning for my cleaning marathon. Folx were up 2 chat with, old school/P-Funk on the radio. I cleaned up all around the puter & my bed and I'm done blogging, gotta go clean Jayden's bathroom.

2002-08-16T03:48:00.000-07:00

barcode via Gwen

2002-08-16T03:33:00.000-07:00

runzwitszizzors: I am sending you the most fucked upest shitty ass article
Starsudini: k
runzwitszizzors: this asshole should die
Starsudini: finna read it now
runzwitszizzors: k
(article)
Starsudini: let's give his ass
Starsudini: a cheeseburger enema
runzwitszizzors: no shit
runzwitszizzors: isnt that the most dirty shit
Starsudini: Oh, he'll shit all right

2002-08-16T02:37:00.000-07:00

Cleaning and blogging. Blogging and cleaning.

I was at a friend's this evening, and got lit. Saw a really funny movie that I'd assumed I would never watch. Laughed a lot. He asked me out. He thinks I'm pretty. Heh. Cue Natalie Wood 'cause I feel pretty.

2002-08-16T02:17:00.000-07:00

If you read the previous post, and went to the link, and read the lyric, I'd just like to add Ray "Scarface" Spencer to that RIP shout. He was a sweet ass thug and I really miss him. I still have a letter he wrote me from Santa Rita. I didn't even know he had been killed until I read an RIP in the liner notes of my Cellblock Compilation tape.

2002-08-16T01:25:00.000-07:00

Hmm. I actually feel like I have a social life these days.

I'd forgotten how nice that feels.

Friends, neighbors, people are nice. I like people. Why was I away from people for so long? And some of 'em are my peoples. My weeples.

2002-08-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

Damn, those eyes. Those eyes got me goin. When he looks at me I just feel all shivery.

I got a delicious little back and neck massage yesterday. He gave Jayden tons of quarters to waste on the video games so he could sneak little kisses on the back of my neck.

I've got a feeling this 5 year drought will be over soon.

'Nuff said.

2002-08-14T02:43:00.000-07:00

I got a couple calls from my ex-coworkers this morning. According to one of them, the reason I was let go was because I was doing something we weren't supposed to do. The thing is, what I was doing not only made sense, but it helped the customers (actually they're patients) immensely, and cut down on the amount of correspondence & phone calls we received, which is the reason we were so frickin backlogged and everyone calling was pissed the fuck off. I'd been doing this particular thing for about a week or so, and Friday - the day I was let go - we had a meeting and were told not to do that. The subject had never come up before. AND - no one, not once, ever said WORD ONE to me about it. Now, I'd been told by one of the regular employees that the supervisor gets jealous if she's made to look bad, and she's really stupid, and I guess it's easy to make her look bad. I'm guessing that's REALLY what it was all about. I mean, why couldn't someone had said "hey, you know you're not supposed to do that" or whatever. I didn't hear a thing, ever, about it. We weren't told not to do it, it just made sense to me and I did it, all in the name of providing exemplary customer service. Then Friday at the meeting: "don't do it", and then BAM I'm let go Friday afternoon. What bullshit.

Anyway...so he said everyone (there's like 20 temps in the office) is pissed off about what happened. He also said they're gonna give me a cut of the lotto pool if they hit :)

My coworkers were so cool, I'm really gonna miss them. Too bad it's a fucked up ass, shabbily-run place supervised by idiots. I hope everyone there finds a great job (we were all going on interviews all the time) and doesn't have to put up with the stupidity for too long.

*********

Jayden & I had dinner over at Gwen's yesterday. No, I can't tell you why I haven't seen or spoken to the girl in eight years, and she's still living in the same place. But I'm glad we found each other again and it's so cool to see her daughter almost all grown up. Jayden of course loves her daughter, he has a thing for older women. But I have a feeling she thinks much less highly of him, since he almost killed the cat and generally acted like a little heathen all night. He did go to the park with "the girl" and "honeyboy" (heh!), and later played Sonic and actually figured out how to make him move.

Me & Gwen caught up and chit chatted and we're gonna hang out tomorrow, too. I sure did miss that girl & there's something incredibly, I guess, right about hooking up with old friends again.

2002-08-12T15:01:00.000-07:00

If your nails are too thin & bendy, and peel a lot, find yourself an Avon lady and order the Strong Results nail stuff and the Liquid Silk Wrap. Ignore the directions on the Strong Results and use it every spare minute you have for like four or five days. Then put on the Liquid Silk Wrap. You will thank me, you will.

2002-08-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

We hung out at Living Nappy's yesterday. She's a great host and we had a blast. It was nice to chill with the grown folx and have room for the kids to play. Her kids are just as awesome as you might think from reading her blog, and her big blue house is oh, so comfortable. Just exactly what you might mean when you think of "home".

She's a damn good cook, too.

2002-08-11T23:01:00.000-07:00

I ran into my old friend's little sister yesterday. She's 25, taking multimedia at the Art Institute. She's doing really well, as I always knew she would. She always had a whole hell of a lotta sense.

Too bad her big sister don't.

It was just too, too sad what C told me about my girl S. I haven't seen her or talked to her in a few years, and the last few times we'd talked she was going on about writing songs, rapping, going to the studio with some guy she'd met. She's not a very bright girl, and she always called me up to ask questions about stupid shit. She hasn't had an easy life, and she's made choices that have made it even harder. But what I can't forgive her for is the way she has treated her daughter since she was a baby.

She never bought that girl a book. She treated her, at best, with indifference. Taught her nothing. No ABC's, no body part names, no manners. Only really spoke to her when she did something wrong/bad - usually just trying to get attention. The girl had problems at school from the start. She is obviously emotionally disturbed and in need of special education, but S was too busy clubbing and hooking up with men to bother pursuing anything concerning her daughter.

Yesterday, C told me that S disappeared a year ago and no one knows where she is. Their mom, a woman with her own set of fucked up ass problems, and C are sharing the care of the little girl, now 10. The girl's dad lives in another state, I think, and C told me they're trying to get him to take custody. He's willing to do the work it'll take to get her where she needs to be. S didn't even call on her daughter's birthday. I'm so, so angry. One of the reasons I tapered off my friendship with S is the way she completely ignored her daughter. Her priorities were not only fucked up, they were nonexistent. Instead of buying books or taking her daughter to counseling she saved up her $$ to go to Jamaica like two years in a row. Without her kid. With a man. She brought a questionable man in to live in the teeny tiny one bedroom apartment she shared with her daughter AND her mother. Her daughter is incredibly beautiful, and doesn't know any damn thing because her mother didn't teach her any damn thing. And she has a life time of problems ahead of her because of the NEGLECT and INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR that S subjected her to. I have shed tears over that baby in the past but S never would hear anything from anyone. And now she is gone, and other people have to deal with the issues this little girl has, and I'm pissed as fuck at her. What fucking right does she have to bring this person into the world and not equip her to BE a person?! And then abandon her completely?!

Gah. I'm so fucking through.

It was good to see C, though, and we will definitely be hooking up. She's been living in my neighborhood like the whole time I have and we're just now running into each other. I'm glad she's doing well, but then she'd always been the one to rise up above the bullshit, and see the shit around her with amazing clarity. A precocious little thing when I met her at 8, she was wise and sensible (but had her silly ass moments) at 18. Now she's got goals, she's meeting them, and I'm proud of her.

But damn, S. If I ever see your ass again, I'm cussing you out on the spot. You wrong, you know you wrong.

2002-08-11T11:04:00.000-07:00

My girl Danielle called me yesterday morning. She's got all kinds of drama her own self. We commiserated for a while and when I told her I was going to the library to update my resume, she said she was going into her office so I should come through & do it there. I met her at her office - she's an account supervisor at a black-owned advertising agency and I fell in lust with the place. Art! African American art! Everywhere! It's just gorgeous. Her son Moses, who's like Jayden's best friend, was there and I helped entertain him while D finished up her work. We made plans to meet back up after she'd dropped Moses off with his dad. Then I went to the Y where my mom had taken Jayden for his swim lesson. Jayden had spent the night at her place, and I'd called her at like 8 o'clock to tell her about getting laid off. By the time I'd talked to D they had already left. So I hoped to catch them at the Y to ask her to keep Jayden for a little while so D & I could chill sans kids for an hour or two. They'd already left by the time I got there.

I went home, and a while later my mom showed up. She wasn't going for any more time with Jayden - they'd had fun, Jayden was being really good, but it was hot and she was tired and after our phone conversation earlier she'd been in the dropping-him-off-at-home mode. Then, when I called Danielle, turned out Moses' daddy was stuck in traffic in the city, so the boyz were with us both after all. What in the world could we do now? Why, go to Lake Anza, of course!

We only planned to hang out on the lawn, not actually go inside to the beach, since it was late and we'd be damned if we were gonna pay at 5 o'clock. D & I sat on the grass while Jayden & Moses ran around. I put together two little styrofoam glider planes and they played with those for awhile. They had a plastic ball & bat, and frisbees to play with too. Jayden and Moses get really excited about seeing each other, and talk about how they want to hang out, and then when they get together, they fight and argue. Boys.

They had fun, though. So did we. D had a lil bit of chronic and we both had Djarums. We sat on the grass & smoked & talked about our crazy drama. Moses' dad showed up and suggested we go into the beach. By this time they weren't charging admission so we went on in & settled on the grass above the small beach. He was tired from his traffic ordeal and took Moses into the water. Jayden wanted to go too, so I explained the rules and sent him off after them. Moses' daddy is a cool guy who always includes Jayden in his & Moses' games and they splashed & played in the water for a bit. Jayden came out first, shivering. I stripped him down and wrapped him up in the towel Danielle had brought and gave him warm Mama dryin-off hugz. I was glad I'd thought to take his underpants off & send him in the water in just his shorts, 'cause I hadn't brought a change of clothes.

Moses & his dad got out the water, and after he got his own warm Mama hugz, Moses joined Jayden in the sand. There were some plastic boats someone had left on the beach, and they played with those and dug in the sand and argued. They had a lot of fun. Then Moses and his dad were doing some capoeira moves and Moses was standing on his dad's palms, and being lifted into the air. He's a little clown and as soon as he saw some people on the beach watching him, he started waving his arms and saying "whooooaaa whoooooaaa!" all comically. Jayden wanted to do it too, and he did pretty good. He even stood all the way up for about 3 seconds.

We left at almost 8 o'clock. The fog was rolling in over the bay, bringing relief at last to our heat wave (Bay Area heat wave: 85+ degrees for more than one day. Yes, we are spoiled here). Jayden fell asleep in the car, and I drove around my neighborhood, down closer to the lake, and up into Piedmont, writing down numbers & addresses wherever I saw an apartment-for-rent sign. My girl needs a place really soon & I got six numbers for her to call. I have an ulterior motive, of course...I want them to live in our neighborhood again!

It was fun, calming, grounding to hang out with D & the boyz just chilling. Hanging out at Tilden helps put things in perspective...shit is fucked, shit is crazy, but just over the hill there's paradise, nothing but trees and water and fun stuff to do.

Today, we're going to go chill with A and her kidz at their house. What would I do without other mamas? I'm blessed. I ain't got a job, broke busted & disgusted, but so what. Life's still good.

2002-08-10T06:29:00.000-07:00

It's 6:15 a.m. here. The job I've been working at for 4 months offered Saturday work today, and I jumped at the chance to make some time & a half. I got up about 30 minutes ago to get ready for work, and remembered I hadn't checked my messages last night. The one message on there was from the temp agency: "your job at (shabbily run state of CA accounting office) has ended. Don't report for work tomorrow or Monday. Please call me to discuss this".

What the fuck?!

Why? Is it because I'm often late 5 or 10 minutes? Is it because the state has no budget and is threatening to pay its (regular) employees minimum wage? Is it because my idiot of a supervisor doesn't like the way I propose/challenge things in meetings? Because just exactly what the fuck why?!

Shit. And I didn't fill out my CA-7 report last month, which is the form you have to fill out for food stamps telling the county all your business and how much money you get. I haven't gotten food stamps for 2 months now because I was making too much money, so I didn't even bother to fill the damn thing out. Now I'm gonna have to go stand in line and do the whole humiliating, nerve-racking process all the fuck over again.

Hopefully the temp agency has another assignment available Monday.

Fuck fuck fuck.

2002-08-06T20:44:00.000-07:00

Damn...

via fuck that job

2002-08-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

yes, it's true. I am a blogsnob.

2002-08-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

possibly interesting:
That little blogchalk icon, at the bottom of the table on the left, actually looks like me.

2002-08-04T07:25:00.000-07:00

I've been cleaning up my computer (as opposed to cleaning up my house, which is what I should have been doing). Reclaimed over 450mb. May not seem like much to you, but I was working on 310mb out of 1.9gb and things are quicker...still slooooooooooow but maybe not slow as hell...

TO DO LIST:
1. get job
2. get man
3. get surgery
4. get computer
5. get real

2002-08-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

We're sick. We both stayed home yesterday, resting. Jayden didn't go to swim class today. If he's doing better tomorrow I'll let him do family swim with his grandma.

He's been driving me crazy. In line at the bank, he's loud and disruptive. It's embarrassing. He doesn't listen to me half the time. At home it's a little better, but yesterday when I was really sick, my head pounding and my chest all wheezy, he whined and complained about every single thing all day and I didn't get a bit of rest. I tried to sit him in front of the TV to watch Yellow Submarine, his current favorite. I went in my room and laid down. Ten minutes later he was standing next to my bed.
"Mommy..."
"What Jayden?"
(whining) "I want something to eat"
"Eat your lunch" (tuna salad and carrots)
"I don't want it"
"Well you ain't getting anything else to eat"
"Mooommmy I don't waaaaaant it" (starting to cry now)
"Jayden go eat your food"
"Noooooooo" (throws himself down on my bed, arms and legs flailing, crying and screaming)
I got up, dragged him into the living room, and told him to eat his food, watch the movie, or go take a nap. He didn't want to sit down, anything. Just whined and cried "mooooooommmmmmyyyyyyyy" over and over. I gave him hugs but it didn't help. At this point, if there was anything else to feed him I'dve given it to him. As it was, I went into my room and laid back down, a pillow over my head. Eventually he stopped screaming and settled down. Thirty minutes later, it started all over again.

2002-07-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

PG&E got cut off. Rushed to find some help, then ended up taking $142 out my rent money. Got it cut back on. Never even saw the 48 hour notice (to their credit, PG&E, it turns out, kept my power on a week after the date on the notice).

<richard dimples fields>if it ain't one thing, it's another</richard dimples fields>

2002-07-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

His lashes are even longer than Jayden's, I think.
"you have beautiful lips", he said.
Later, he kissed my neck.
{mm}

2002-07-27T18:08:00.000-07:00

Star "Action" Mama

2002-07-27T16:36:00.000-07:00

Jayden's first swim class was today (not last week, like I'd thought). He did great. Blew bubbles in the water, learned the rules (the same ones I'd drilled into him all week), kicked his feet, learned how to get into the pool, jumped into the instructor's arms. Then after class, he did family swim with his grandma. I went to Sears & bought stuff.

Jayden fell asleep in his car seat before I'd dropped my mom off at the bus stop. I drove to North Oakland to find a yard sale. North Oakland is the yard sale capitol. I found one in the Temescal neighborhood and shopped as Jayden slept in the shade of a magnolia tree. Here's what I got:

Oh, the Places You'll Go!
My Many Colored Days
both with intact dust covers - when I opened them, the spines cracked
Polk's Folly, hardcover
The Knopf Travel Guide to Bali
a set of ivory-colored dominoes without those table-gouging brass spinners
a wire bound album with heavy black paper pages & covered in pulp paper painted aqua, black and gold
a resin figurine of a little black boy holding a ball
a pair of silver filigree earrings

all...for...seven dollars.

yes, I said $7.

yard sales kick ass.

2002-07-27T16:26:00.000-07:00

Why I Will Never Go To Florida, #1040

2002-07-26T22:05:00.000-07:00

via milkmonkey:

How much money would it take to get you to do the following?

eat a live cockroach?
$7,000
pull the wings off of a beautiful butterfly?
$1,000
show up to school/work totally nude?
$5,000
show up at a mall (or other public place), where no one would know you, totally nude?
$9,000
eat a spoonful of fresh doggie poo?
$1 million
sleep with george bush? (and no, you couldn't ruin his political career)
Not for any price
have a healthy loyal pet put to sleep? For no reason?
Not for any price
go for 3 months without bathing, washing hair, or brushing your teeth, and you can't tell anyone you are doing it for money?
$10,000
give up your favorite food for the rest of your life?
hmmm...
never again leave the state (or general area) that you now live in?
$5 million
give up the internet for 5 years?
$10,000

2002-07-25T23:25:00.000-07:00

Within, without
there ain't no doubt
as to my true intention;
oblique, obtuse
it's no use
there's far too much to mention.

2002-07-20T22:25:00.000-07:00

Someone on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me described this as
"The Inevitable Police State".

2002-07-20T22:15:00.000-07:00

Let's have a potluck picnic. At Lake Temescal. Late summer. Whaddaya think? Wanna come? Bring your kids, your friends, your dog. Let's have fun.

2002-07-20T00:47:00.000-07:00

where'd you get that funk from?

2002-07-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

I just this minute realized that my blog colors are now the same colors that make up most of my wardrobe.

2002-07-19T21:24:00.000-07:00

SPRUNG

sly grin
bloodshot eyes
narrow hips &
big hands.
agendas, agendas. the m.o. is
weary traveler
stoppin thru &
finding a place to rest
for a while, maybe.
we've dogged him out, used him up,
my sisters,
& he's glad to finally find you. he's
the one who tore that shit, who
curled your toes, who
makes you laugh. he knows you
ain't goin nowhere.

2002-07-19T00:04:00.000-07:00

Last nite I picked out an outfit to wear to the blog meetup. It was really stylish, gray flannel-look pants & a black fake suede shirt. With my zip-front ankle boots. I was gonna look fly for the folx I was gonna meet. This morning I put on some jeans & a plain blue top & wore my sneaks. And realized when I got to work that I'd put on the wrong clothes. Ah well.

Jayden went to the allergist today. My mom used my car & took him. The doctor poked his back with this contraption made of a buncha needles filled with common allergens. I'd prepared him for it: "the doctor is gonna poke your back with this poky thing, and then after a while he'll look at your back to see if there are any bumps". He wasn't that cool with the idea at first, but I reassured him that Grandma would be with him the whole time and Jayden really likes doctors, so by the time they got to the doctor's office he was rarin' to go. My mom said the most obvious allergies are ragweed, horses, and dust; he also seems to have a slight reaction to milk. And we drink lots of milk. My mom was upset about the horse allergy; she's an equestrian at heart, and Jayden WILL take riding lessons at 7, the minute he's old enough. He can take allergy medication before his lessons. At least he's not allergic to dogs or cats!

He was a good boy at the doc's today. He was good at home this morning, good at Grandma's after the doctor's appt, and good mostly all nite. I took him with me to the blog meetup. We walked around the bar/restaurant looking for bloggers. "Are you a blogger?" I asked the guy sitting alone with a laptop and a pint. "What's a blogger?" he wanted to know. "Are you a blogger?" I asked the chick with the black hair and tattooed arms. "I don't know what that is", she said. "Are you a blogger?" I asked the guy who was walking around, obviously looking for someone. "Yes", he said. It was Philo! We took a table inside & ordered drinks. Then Min Jung & Ernie showed up and we moved to a bigger table; we ordered some food & Min made a little sign that said "Yes, we're bloggers". Just in case anyone was wondering. Jayden was crushing hard on Min Jung. First he was a doggie, barking and panting...he even licked my face. Then he got just plain silly, lying on the floor and throwing his toy across the room. I kinda let him show his ass, since it was past his bedtime & we were in a boring grownup place.

I had a great time chatting with everyone, talking about blogging and meeting people and kids and whatever. Min & Philo had cameras & they mostly took pictures of Jayden, I think. No one else presented themselves to us as bloggers, and I wonder if there was another table of folx somewhere in the place, wondering where all the bloggers were.

We had to leave after about an hour and a half and Jayden & I had a nice walk down Shattuck to my brother's house, where Cutty was parked. I took Ashby to 13 & got off at Moraga, then took Grand to Elwood & up the hill to our street. It's a much nicer drive than down MLK or Telegraph or Shattuck. When we got home he didn't argue or whine about going to bed, and we read a chapter of "Elmer and the Dragon" and kissed & hugged & he went almost immediately to sleep. Now I'm blogging and trying to get my links up on this blogspot template and I guess I need to go to sleep soon...nite nite.

2002-07-17T20:28:00.000-07:00

Gwen found me! Through my blog! I'm so thrilled. She's somebody I've thought about a lot over the past eight years, you know how it is: dang, I hella miss such-n-such, I need to call her sometime, damn it's been a coupla years, let me call her, shit I finally call her and the number's disconnected...or I can't find it...or whatever. But she was reading blogs, and recognized me, and emailed me, and I can't wait to see her & her lil' girl. & I'm jealous too, 'cause she was hangin out with George at 1428. I guess I should be glad I wasn't there tho', since it means I was at work which means I'm not collecting unemployment and I spend far too much time buying expensive coffee at places like 1428 and Jahva House and Urban Grind when I don't have a job.

2002-07-16T20:19:00.000-07:00

Jayden starts swim lessons Saturday at the Y. That's pretty exciting.

Yesterday I released my first book into the wild. Someone found it & let me know. That's exciting, too.

I met a man! A real man, who's good looking and taller than me, too. He's from Mali & there's a bit of a language barrier, but I'm hoping conversation will be easier in person than it's been on the phone.

My son is a baby funkateer. He hears some P-funk and throws up the funk sign! And he knows how to say "psychoalphadiscobetabioaquadoloops"!

2002-07-14T22:38:00.000-07:00

Friday was my friend Jeanne's birthday. We've been friends since high school. Saturday was her daughter's 13th birthday. We went with them & two friends to the Rainforest Cafe at Fisherman's wharf. Huge tourist trap, but it's a wonderful place. Lots for kids to see. Good food, high priced though. Kid's menu not horrible. Jicama in the house salad. The animatronic gorilla scared the shit out of Jayden, but after tears & reassurance from me & some other folx, he ended up "raaahhh!"-ing at the gorilla & feeling braver.

Jeanne rented a limo for the occasion. Very exciting for a 13 year old girl & her best friend to ride in a limo to The City. Jayden spent most of the ride trying to get the girls' attention and singing his own made up lyrics to the songs on the stereo.

Last week, on the 6th, was my potna Smiley's b-day. She threw herself a big ass party on her parents' deck with dj, open bar, and hella food. I was so happy I went, I got drunk & got down & had fun.

I hope I can line up a babysitter for the blogmeet thing. I hope someone else shows up.

2002-07-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

I will clean my house.

My messy, junky house.

I will clear off my patio, buy something at Ikea, and entertain again.

I will invite my friends, IRL and online, to gatherings at my place. We will play Scrabble or Boggle or Monopoly, drink blended drinks and eat good things, talk and sing and maybe even boogie a bit.

I will!

2002-06-14T12:52:00.000-07:00

Today is a glorious day. It actually started yesterday. When I picked Jayden up from school, he gave me a picture he'd drawn. Of me. It's not just the scribbly circles & lines he usually draws, but an actual picture! There's a scribbly circle head, and where the ears might be are two horizontal lines that stretch out in opposite directions to the edge of the page. Those are my arms. Then there's a torso that ends in a scribbly circle, my tummy. Two lines go down to the bottom of the page, my legs, and they end in SHOES with SHOELACES.

I'm just tickled beyond belief. If I had a scanner I'd share it with the world. But you know I gave it the place of honor in our hallway gallery. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I consider it my Father's Day present.

This morning I went into Jayden's room and turned on his dresser-top lamp. "Good morning, good mo-o-rning," I sang. He turned over and gave me a beatific smile. "G'mornin Mommy!" So I said "Oooh look at that smile, I gotta kiss that smile" and he grinned even wider and gave me a kiss. He got out of bed without argument, and because it was cold I let him lay for a while by the heater, hugging his pink bunny (which has recently lost its face; I saved the little blue eyes for some future nostalgic day). When I told him it was time to get up & start getting dressed, he didn't argue, whine or talk back. He took off his PJ's and put on all of his clothes all by himself, with a minimum of stalling. We were out the door with no yelling, no tears, and it was lovely.

We drove down W MacArthur to the tire shop. Cutty'd gotten a flat on the freeway over a week ago, and that donut barely got me through. So we got us a nice new tire and still got to school at the normal time. When I left him he was being a perfect little boy, helping his teacher to get the breakfast things and waving "bye" like a little angel. I got on the W Grand ramp to 80E. It's very high up in the air, and as I'm driving along in the almost nonexistent traffic, a white egret glides by, lazily heading for the Emeryville mudflats to scare up some breakfast. It was beautiful. Then I get to my brother's house, where I park each morning in his driveway, and either he or my sis-in-law took their car to work today so I got to park up on the flat instead of using my emergency brake on the slope. As I'm walking down Milvia to my job I passed a chain link fence covered in jasmine and trumpet vines. I pass it every day, but this morning the orangey-pink flowers of the trumpet vines were wide open, and there seemed to be so many more of them than usual. Although it could just be that today, this glorious day, I was so much more open to the sight of all that gorgeousness.

One bad note, although not bad enough to bring me down today: one or maybe more of my co-workers (couldn't be me!) has been "abusing" the use of the internet, and so that privilege, formerly allowed us on breaks & lunch, will be revoked as of Monday. This means I don't know when I will greet y'all next, because I still haven't gotten my phone turned on. But don't worry, that's what I'm working on now.

May your days be as wonderful as this one has been for me. Smoochez!

2002-06-05T15:04:00.000-07:00

My baby is sick. I'm sick. He's taking Prednisone and getting Albuterol treatments in the nebulizer. My mom's got him & thank goodness she's able to keep him while he's sick, or I'd have to take off work & then the rent wouldn't get paid.

It's a freekin hustle, man. And every time a bug goes around, I get it, 'cause I don't get near enuff sleep.

Waah waah waah, boo hoo hoo, bitch bitch bitch.

I just feel like shit.

2002-05-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

The other night I was watching “Selena” on TV and, as usual, I started crying when she was shot. Jayden saw me and came over to hug me and asked why I was crying. I said “I’m sad because Selena is dead and it makes me cry.” Jayden hugged me again and went to get his “rescue hero” outfit. He came back over to me and said, “it’s okay Mommy, I’ll save Sina. I’ll save Bob Marley, too.”

So, yesterday we went to the Carijama at Mosswood Park. Danielle & Moses came over and we drove down there. The festival was in full swing so we didn’t think there’d be parking close, but I made a couple of circuits of the side streets and as I turned down 37th for the second time, a guy leading his family to the car waved us over so we could take his parking spot, bless his heart.

As always, it was a lot of fun: lots of people, lots of music, lots of culture & togetherness. First we sat in the sun on the lawn, and listened to a gospel rap group (“I’m comin down the block bumpin Jesus…got the WORD comin out my mouth…”). The sun got a little too hot, and when Jayden started crying for shade we got up and made our move. We sat down under a tree near MacArthur, right next to a drum circle. Jayden and Moses ran around chasing each other while Danielle and I sat there, smoked some cloves, and yelled at them every 40 seconds or so. We saw Malik from Real World 10, afro in full effect. He’s so cute.

We took the boys to the tot lots, which were mad mob scenes teeming with kids. By this time we’d been there for a few hours and the music, the kids, the sun, and the hard lemonade had gotten to us. It was time to go. Jayden, of course, wasn’t having it and he cried and cried as we were leaving. “I want to go back, Mommy. I’m not ready to leave!” He was just heartbroken. I was too, kinda, because I hadn’t seen Sia and Arianna. They came down from Portland for the weekend, and we hung out with them on Saturday at Eileen’s house, but I was really hoping to see them at Carijama, too. L

2002-05-23T12:04:00.000-07:00

I'm sending big sloppy kisses Philo's way for his gift of ad-free blogging. Luvya, babee!

Did anyone out there catch Prince's show at the Paramount a few weeks ago? I'd love to read a review if you went, or if you know of any reviews online.

My brother & his wife are right now beginning their 2nd day of their European vacation. Wow! I've never been anywhere except once to Chicago, once to LA. They're going to London, Paris, Luxembourg, and Amsterdam. They're gonna have a blast.

2002-05-20T10:09:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm glad Vecepia won Survivor. I wanted her to win because I just couldn't stand Neleh. She's the kind of girl I would've beaten up in my pre-mommy life. Plus, of course, I dig that a chick won, that she's black, and that folx kept discounting her in their little "this is my strategy" speeches, but looka here, she stayed her ass there and won that muhfuh.
V (and Sean) did a little too much thanking of Jesus and invoking His name, for my tastes. But I'm not gonna hate on someone's beliefs. She worked that whole game and I said way back (to myself, since it's been ages since I've talked to a grownup who's not my mom) "watch, V's gonna win, she's sharp and she's smart and she's playin EVERYONE on that island."
I like Survivor, obviously. I didn't watch the first one, I thought it was dumb & didn't want to get involved with some TV show. Then my friend Sia got me watching the second, and I was hooked. I missed most of the third one so I didn't bother watching any more 'cause I didn't know what was going on or who the people were. This one was good, and I'm looking forward to Survivor Thailand.
Unless, of course, I've got a boyfriend by then, or some other semblance of an interesting life to lead.

2002-05-17T10:09:00.000-07:00

Today should be Kayla's 8th birthday. Instead it's the 8th anniversary of her death. As time goes by fewer people acknowledge her loss. Many feel I should not be still grieving now that I've got Jayden. They don't understand. They never did. Even her daddy doesn't always remember her birthday anymore. We haven't gone to her grave in a couple of years. It's so sad. And it's so difficult to name exactly the feeling that I have. Mostly, it's a lonely kind of feeling, because no one here knows I'm grieving today and I don't think I should tell anyone. No one will call me or come by today and say "how are you doing? Are you alright today?" and give me a hug. The only one who I know would've remembered is Samantha, and she's gone now too.

2002-05-15T15:10:00.000-07:00

This is so sad. I cried this morning when I saw it on the news. I have a boy who is fascinated with construction and every time I hear of a construction site accident it scares me to death. But can someone please tell me WHAT THE FUCK were these 11 year old boys doing out playing last night - A SCHOOL NIGHT - at 9:00?! Oakland schools are still in session, it is not summer vacation, it was dark at 9:00 last night.

How am I gonna be able to handle it when Jayden gets old enough to play outside by himself? Will I have to watch over him like a hawk, until he hates me? Will I have to fashion him some clothes from bubble wrap, make him wear a hard hat wherever he goes (he might actually like that)? I know the minute I take my eyes off him, he will beeline for somewhere forbidden. That's a given - I remember my childhood, and no matter how good the kid, they WILL explore the off limits stuff.

2002-05-15T12:46:00.000-07:00

Drivers who don't use their turn signals annoy me. Smug, selfish SUV drivers who turn their signals on after they've already started merging are even worse. Drivers who do "hollywood" stops at stop signs irritate me and have caused me grief because I now feel I cannot allow my son to walk to school, when he begins kindergarten, and I'd always said I wanted my kid to walk to school. I drive the speed limit, because I don't want tickets and because I'm a mama who gives a fuck whether or not her kid is alive to see another day. I get very upset when I'm driving the speed limit and someone tailgates me, or flashes their brights, or otherwise shows poor driving courtesy.

I am an excellent driver. I was taught to drive defensively by my daddy, a professional driver since the sixties. He also taught me to be considerate, careful, and patient. He taught me that if you observe the rules of the road closely, at all times, they can become automatic and you are then freed to enjoy the experience of being behind the wheel without ruining someone else's day. I like to drive, I feel free and in control and powerful. I love to drive to new places, see different things, take road trips.

I wish like hell my poor Cutty wasn't so fragile - it's great to have him running, but I can't do all I wish I could. Like take trips down to San Jose or Santa Cruz whenever I want. Or go up to Shasta County to visit my godbabies, who I haven't seen since their mama died.

Gotta keep workin, pluggin away, to get my bills caught up so I can get more work done on my poor car. He needs shocks so badly, if there's more folx than just me & Jayden in the car, you feel each and every pebble in the road, and poor Cutty sounds like he's comin apart.

2002-05-13T12:52:00.000-07:00

I cannot trust my mother. Because of my recent spate of unemployment, I ended up owing Wells Fargo money and unable to get a bank account. I’m my mother’s SSI payee and a joint holder of her checking account, so I’ve been using hers. Depositing my checks, withdrawing what I need, no ATM because I can’t get one & she’s got the only one. Over the past month and a half, I’ve deposited over $1330 in unemployment and pay checks. I’ve made less than $1100 in withdrawals and checks. My mother called the bank, saw that there was money in it (MY money), and withdrew the money to get her carpet cleaner off layaway. When I went to deposit my paycheck on Friday, the account was $278 overdrawn. Which meant my entire check went up in smoke. $278 included $150 in overdraft fees for the checks I wrote, which bounced because she’d taken the money out.

Mother’s Day sucked because of that, and because Friday my mom told me Danny & Mala wanted to just barbecue at their house instead of go out. I did NOT want to go out to East Oakland, get my mom, hang out at their house, and then go all the way back out to East Oakland to take her home. And I would’ve stayed my ass at home, if my daddy didn’t come to town for a few hours yesterday. Of course I had to go get him, so of course I had to go get Mommy, so of course we had to go to Danny’s. At Jayden’s nap time. We ate burgers, beans and potato salad. They didn’t even have diet Coke. It sucked because it was not what I wanted to do and because I didn’t have any money to do what I wanted to do. I’m mad at my mom and I know if I say something she’s gonna turn it around on me somehow, deny she made the withdrawals she made, bring up money she thinks she loaned me years ago, or something.

I WORKED for that money. She gets $$ from SSI because she’s mentally ill AND my daddy gives her $600 or more a month. And she won’t even let the man live with her.

2002-05-09T12:55:00.000-07:00

These guys are my cousins. Rahm, Ari (he's a founder of the agency in the article), and Ezekiel (growing up I knew of him as "Jon"). I'm proud of them, they are all very successful. I haven't seen any of them since I was a baby. From what my mom tells me, Rahm thought I was awfully cute.

My dad's family is full of really cool, successful people with awesome careers, perspectives, ideals, and such. I just don't really know them. We grew up out here in Oakland, and they were all, for the most part, in Chicago. Even the ones in SoCal - my cousin Ted & his family, cousin Zita & her family - were strangers to me, even though I met them in 1991 when I traveled down to LA.

None of the Smulevitzes or Brodskys have ever once visited us, except last year my cousins Tanya & Adam, and Avi (who grew up in Israel) came to visit with my brother & me at my house. Haven't heard from them since, though. Why don't we keep in touch? I'm not sure. It may have to do with the fact that we never traveled anywhere, except to my uncle Les's wedding when I was a baby.

2002-05-08T10:03:00.000-07:00

Has anyone actually been here yet, I'm wondering?

2002-05-02T15:08:00.000-07:00

Ever have one of those days that just seem fated to be lousy? You might, all in the course of one morning:

Have your mom lock your key in the car;

Forget your book, and have nothing to read on your breaks;

Spill coffee and kung pao chicken on your pretty taupe sweater;

Enter a buncha stuff only to remember that the database is down and none of it was saved.

Ah well, such is life (mine, anyway...)

2002-05-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

Well folks, this is my blog. Hope you didn't have too much trouble getting here...and yes, I'm glad to be back.

Got me a job, a lil' ol' temp thang in Berkeley. Still waiting to hear from the county...still love y'all...