(as seen on Facebook, after several days of silence and some not-so-gentle nudging from friends)... and because a good brain dump helps you make space for stuff actually worth thinking about
1. I didn’t say anything about Kanye and his “keep my wife name out ya mouth” antics because one thing Kanye will do is Kanye. Nothing he does surprises me anymore. This is not about the validity of the claims Ye made against Nick Cannon, Drake, or Tyson. At all. But so many people mocked Kanye for coming to his wife’s defense. Not because you thought what he said was wrong, but because you didn’t believe his wife was worth defending because she has a “past.” Like your raggedy ass been saved since you left the womb.
2. I think this gripe may be two-fold. First, the American justice system is racially biased and extremely flawed. Justice is blind, but people aren’t, especially not the ones who make the laws that govern our country. There are a disproportionate number of black people in jail serving time for crimes that their white counterparts walk free for. Saying that, there are FAR MORE MEN than Bill Cosby who have even worse allegations against them who continue to walk free, while Bill Cosby sits in jail. These are the facts. Wienstein. Rosen. Lauer. All gross white men who lost their careers but not their freedom. Is it fair? No. But the entire justice system is unfair. And it will be until we elect leaders who give a shit about us.
2a. However, Bill Cosby is a rapist who should not be exempt from being held responsible for the crimes he committed against these women. I’d feel the same way if he was white or green with purple polka dots. Some of you argued that Cosby should be free because other white rapists are free. Basura. Any man who violates a woman should face the consequences. Period. Race notwithstanding. And yes, you can hold on to the part of your childhood that loved Heathcliff Huxtable. Dr. Huxtable wasn’t the rapist. Neither was David Anderson or Mongo Slade or Wardell Franklin. Bill Cosby was. I get the nostalgia, but let’s not be obtuse here.
3. I don’t know whether or not Carter V is better or worse than other Lil Wayne albums because I haven’t listened to him with any interest since Carter II, which dropped when I could still listen to ratchet music while Michael was in the car because he was too small to repeat or snitch. But I do know this. I had posters of Wayne on my wall when he was a Hot Boy. I used to tear him out of Word Up magazine. (I’m OLD old.) I loved me some Lil Wayne in 1998. There is something to be said about an artist who is still creating a buzz and still relevant and still dropping much-anticipated albums two decades later. That’s some dope shit. Does that make him a legend? I’d say he is… even though I ain’t a FAN fan…
3a. ….because Wayne makes drug addict music.
4. I’m tired of drug addict music. Lord. But my parents were tired of drug dealer music, and flipping bricks is all I know, so…
5. This whole Brett Kavanaugh craziness: *deep breath* I watched eight hours of testimony yesterday. I listened to every word. I believe Dr. Ford. Not because she’s a woman, but because she seemed more credible. More believable. Kavanaugh seemed insincere and mawkishly emotional to me. And I was feeling sad this morning because of the implication that confirming Kavanaugh would send to women who have been victims of sexual assault. But then I started thinking about this from an objective perspective. Emotionalism aside. This seat on the Supreme Court means the Republicans sway the tide of this country for an entire generation. Lifetime appointment, right? So let’s be all the way real— Kavanaugh means nothing to them beyond being in the right party to hold that coveted seat. Not confirming him before midterms would be a HUGE blow to the Republican Party because the Democrats could win the majority and block any other appointments until 2020. That’s why this is so messy and rushed and ridiculous. They don’t care about what’s right or wrong. Their only concern is power. And then, when I started thinking along those lines, I got mad.
5a. Really mad.
5b. The Stupid Salamander ordered the FBI investigation be reopened, but even if they DO find something against Brett (which, beyond a doubt, I believe they will), I have doubts that it’ll ever come to surface. I don’t think there’s any end to the treachery… and everybody has a price. I think no length is too far for them to go to get this Supreme Court seat before November. The hypocrisy makes me so, so angry.
6a. Like. Seriously. Go vote. Because the same men who railroaded Anita Hill in 1991 (Hatch and Grassley are collectively a million years old) did the very same thing to Dr. Blasey Ford yesterday because somebody keeps voting for their old asses. These are men who served in these positions since strange fruit hung from poplar trees. Get them the hell out of there. NOTHING WILL CHANGE FOR US until they are obsolete. They are public servants in elected positions. Get these people tf outta here.
7. Social media gives everybody an opinion and a voice. Which is a good thing and a bad as hell thing. Mostly a bad as hell thing. We are all free to think whatever we wanna think. But. If your opinion is ashy, abusive, disrespectful, racist, sexist, homophobic, or stupid, don’t share that shit with me. I lost respect for so many people this week behind their opinions. I don’t generally block/ unfollow people on social media because I am grown but this week, I had to get some folks up out the paint. The ability to speak and have an audience and formulate a thought isn’t a privilege that everyone has. I implore those of you who have it to use it wisely… or stfu. The world is already complicated enough without your baseless opinion floating around. Silence is golden.
8. I’m also ass-itchy because of all the incorrect information that is circulated. Take a second, beloved, and vet the links you share. If you share incorrect information and somebody tells you it’s wrong, be responsible enough to delete/ recant/ edit the posts. Y’all get all emotional over wrong shit. Information ia easily found if you’re actually looking for it. LOOK FOR IT. Takes just a second.
9. Mayor Bowser wants to make speeding tickets worth $500 in DC. Fuck Mayor… Oh. Nvm.
10. Guard your mental spaces, y’all. The fuckening can be overwhelming. I know because I’m overwhelmed. But unplug if you need to. Have an edible. Light a jay. Get yourself a drink. Or several. Don’t let the heaviness of the world infiltrate your headspace. It’s almost scarves-and-cardigans season, some good ass music happened today (Logic, 6lack, Wayne, Lupe), and there is always something to smile about and look forward to and celebrate. Relax relate release this weekend. Do hoodrat shit with your friends. This week was long and hard. Party longer and harder this weekend.
I think that’s all I got. And I don’t really feel like arguing any of this, so don’t even bother.
August was, for what it was worth, a month I really needed that I had no idea I needed until just now. It was a really, really good month. I celebrated some great things. My son turned 16, and we celebrated his birthday in New York City- his first visit ever. My best friend bought her first home and we celebrated her birthday by her allowing me to cook the first meal in our— um… her new kitchen. I fit easily into my goal jeans— some red size 8s that I never thought I’d fit again. Actually, that’s a lie. In On February 18, 2018, when my life and my body and my weight and my skin and my hair were a mess and my self-esteem was in shambles and my cholesterol was high I wrote in my journal that I would fit them again, and in August I did. So I did think I’d fit them again. In August I guess I learned the learned the true power of intention and of journaling. Wow. And I didn’t realize that til just now, either. I also saw my doctor for a physical and my vitamin D is low but my cholesterol is normal. I kicked my caffeine habit. (That one was a bitch to surrender, I tell you.)
In August, my workload slowed to virtually nil.
And when I say nil. Listen.
I wish I could show bank statements, but I don’t want to introduce that kind of negativity into your lives. I had no work. So I had no choice… but to sit still.
Correction. I read an excellent book I’ve been wanting to read for months. I discovered that I’m really, really good as baking things. So fat I’ve mastered several cobblers, banana pudding, (lemon) pound cake, red velvet cake, cupcakes, the most amazing chocolate frosting I’ve ever tasted (no, really), and buttercream frosting. All from scratch. I cleaned. I REALLY cleaned. I rearranged furniture to shift energy. I got rid of old things. I fixed stuff. Hung pictures. Got Hendrix a bed. Soaked in the tub. Gone to the zoo. Visited New York City with my kid and watched the wonder of the city through his eyes. Watched my baby turn 16. Geez. I hung out with my mother. I cried with my best friend as we celebrated the end of a long journey that was totally worth it. I reorganized my kitchen cabinets. I’m doing some gardening next week. I’m even gonna (get this shit) repair the zipper on some pants I thought I’d gotten rid of that I can fit again. I’ve learned to be kind to myself, to celebrate the stuff I never thought I’d enjoy because I never really took the time to do.
All because I had no work.
In August, I learned some sucky (really REALLY awful sucky) money lessons. But I had a change to stop worrying. And give my energy to things with products I can be proud of. Maybe even discovered another stream of income, because my baked gods? Y’all. Amazing. I’m serious! So instead of worrying, I found outlets for my nerves… and found some dope shit. And I started this blog to whine about how much August was the worst because I didn’t make any money.
Ha. Fooled my damn self with this one.
I’m ready for September.
I am ready for the rest of this year. I took August to figure out what I really wanted. I wrote things out. Set some intentions, you know? Bought some candles. Mastered my twist-out. Even found myself an academic planner… the ones that start with September. The start of Michael’s school year has always been the beginning of a new year for me— probably because I spent so many years teaching. I’m getting to really know this person I am, and with self-awareness has come improvement.
I wasn’t frantic about work, because there was none. And because there was no work, there was life. My prayer is that I learn balance when my workload increases, well, as it continues to increase. I really hope I stop to breathe and bake and be. And write and sing and love my cat and cuddle and laugh.
I found the most fantastic gift in what I thought was a void. And I didn’t realize that until just now.
Maybe I finally figured out how to manifest something other than shit to worry about.
-journal excerpt, 8/31/18
I write because a lot of what I have to say is too crass and inappropriate for me to say out loud.