So with no specific focus or agenda for writing this entry I guess I will start off by saying.... I feel so drained, but motivated at the same time. How can this be? Well, I've always believed I'm a night creature. I just function better at night. I haven't been sleeping well at all these past three or four weeks. I'm basically sleep walking in the daytime, crashing by the time I get home from work and waking up around 10 pm only to not go back to bed until 4 am. What am I'm doing in the night hours? Writing a little, catching up on emails, listening to music, watching late night sitcoms.. wait does South Park count as a sitcom? Engaging in text messaging sex. By the way, is text messaging sex the new phone sex? Crazy? I know.
My big day at the hospital is right around the corner. Monday I check in for the sonogram. It's scheduled for 9 am and that's a "blower" to me at the moment. When I called two weeks ago to make the appointment, I was told that the radiology center only schedules appointments for the morning. I picked Monday's date and was told there was an 8:30 and a 9 am opening. Hmm I don't sleep well at night and I hate getting up early in the morning as it is.. how are either of these times going to work? I did receive and automated confirmation call this evening. The kind operator reminded me that I am not to eat anything after midnight the day before, but I will be required to drink so many ounces of water just before thee test and (get this) I can't PEE!!!!!!! That's gonna be agony!
On a good note, the doc's office called me at work Friday afternoon to let me know my blood work came back and everything checks out okay. When I asked how soon would I know about the sonogram results once it's done, I was informed that the doc is out of town until the 30th and she would personally contact me when she returns to inform me of the results. Okay... so I have more waiting to do. I really do think God blessed me with the gift of patience, because all my life I've had to wait for things whether I wanted to or not. Ordinarialy, I would have friends tell me they would be driven up the wall to wait for some medical results, but hey... what are you going to do?!?!?! Pull a John Q and hold the hospital hostage?
Ok. So what's up with the deformed potato chip? Well a few days ago at work, I managed to scarf down a bag of sour cream and onion tater chips as part of my lunch. I was getting down to the last few in the bag when I came across this heart. I couldn't eat. It seemed like it would be a sin. So instead I did what any amature geeky, dorky artist would do. I pulled out my camera phone and clicked away. Of course I went around the office to show it off to my coworkers. Even though all five of us (yes five!) are loony toons, I knew Erin would be the one to really appreciate such artistry! Nevertheless, I placed the chip back in the bag and eventually threw the bag away by the end of the day. A wasted heart eh?
Today was a mother and daughter day. My mother and I, along with one of our cousins, attended a fashion held at a local church. Our purpose in going was to support one of my mother's friends who was a model in the show. She is also a local high fashion jewelry designer and as guessed... some of her peices was featured. The show wasn't all hoity toity. Fashions varied from the moderately priced to high end, with clothes used from local botiques. i went to the show with no intention of looking to buy anything that would be on sale. However, that changed when my mother's friend came down the runway showcasing on of her peices around her neck. I fell in love with the necklace and had to inquire about it. So after the show, my mother and I, with cousin in tow, went backstage to meet up with her friend. I was shown the jewelry and up close I was even more memorized and practically drooling at the eye candy - ampythyst stone with a hint of small ruby colored stones. There is an exquiste floral design to it that sets it off perfectly. It probably doesn't make sense in writing. It's more of a visual (conversation) peice. I would take a picture of it, but frankly I'm embarrased to show it off right now for the simple fact of the price tag that comes along with this peice of jewerly - oh it did come with matching earrings and was sold as a set.
Fortunately, the lady does have a payment plan. How long will I be paying off this jewelry? Probably until 2010. Okay, not that long, but within four months. Apparently, my very first purchase of high end jewlery immediately inducted me into some secret society. After my mother's friend and I agree on some type of arrangement she was very excited to tell me that I'm now inducted into a circle of her well established, long standing customers. Each year she throws some kind of appreciation luncheon of her customers who have spent over a certain amount. Once you reach the $1,000 mark she grants you with a free gift of a real authentic Egyptian Kartush - a pendent that bares your name in hieroglyphics.
My mother has one and so do a few other of her friends who are faithful customers of the jewelry lady. As for me, let me finish paying off my first purchase before I decide to move onto something else that will ease me into the $1,000 realm.
In other Mommy news, it's been five months since my mother has retired from the DC public school system. I was prettyshocked that never mentioned anything about wanting a retirement party. Finally a few months ago, in conversation with me, she mentioned how she recruited another friend of hers to handle a retirement party. I think at first it started out with them joking about a few things, but I think she made it an absolute mission. A few months back I had written an entry (in one of my many blogs) about how I wanted to throw some kind of charity function next summer. However, there are so many causes that I'm interested in how could I possibly choose one?
Every once in a blue moon I toyed with the idea of making my mother's retirement party a charity event. I had thoughts of all of her family, close friends and colleagues coming together for some cause. I even had envisioned one of my mother's favorite jazz musicans performing - Marcus Johnson, a DC area native with national and international fame. I had envisioned the person with money I would approach - those that my parents knew from being politically invovoled with a recent mayoral candidate. With all the thoughts I had, I somehow managed to downplay it with thoughts of "how in the world can I possibly pull something off this big? I am no event planner."
Yet, today the thought wouldn't let go. I almost began to cry as I thought how I seemed to miss doing something nice for her when a milestone comes up. I wanted to give her a nice 50th birthday party, but I didn't have the money to and even still I wanted to give her some kind of party for her retirement in June. Well, this evening I made some phone calls. I called her friend to see if she had even started with the planning for her party and ifso, how far along. I called my friend JM who plans events as a hobby of some sort and got a few pointers on how to handle a chairty event. I drumed up a guests list and jot down other ideas I have. All in all I want to be committed to doing this. Afterall, it was my mother who taught me it's best to honor someone while they are alive. I can't let this lifetime go by without her knowing how much she is appreciated.
My last thought for the evening concerns Hazel (my latest ex). Within the last few weeks some drama kicked off in his life. Though I didn't inolve myself with it, when I caught wind of it I will admit I was a bit curious. It was mostly contained online on the dreaded Yahoo 360 and from just observing what was taking place, I began to fell sick inside. It was fragments of that same sickness I felt from when we went through our little drama a year ago. I confronted him about what was going on, half concerned and half seeking some kind of truth, but how much truth was going to come out of this? Of course I still didn't feel satisfied about the answers I was receiving from him. Why? Well on some level of what was going on, I knew there were some things he couldn't have done that we was being accused off. However, on the other hand there was one person in particular that I was in tune to as I read her comments about the situation and later in a dream. I believe her story is true. I can't exaplain it, but it's a strong feeling I have.
Of course Hazel is denying all of the allegations. On some level I don't care about the allegations because we aren't together, but on the hand - the hand that led me to confront him in the first place - if that one stoy I believe is true I would be so hurt that he lied to me since being invovled with me. Then again, I think honesty is somehow put on the back burner when he deals with the opposite sex. Funny as I'm typing this last thought, I hear the movie Babyboy playing in the next room. Not saying that Hazel is to the extreme of Tyrese's character Jody, but sometimes I have to wonder... well when it comes to the women.
So many thoughts are swimming in my head at the moment. However, because I can't decipher what I want to spew on "ink and paper" I just resorted to a list of phone calls that I need to make...,phone calls that are long over due.
1. My sister Linda. I long to speak with her about what's going on.
2. My cousins in Seattle. I miss them dearly.
3. Nisha. I feel bad for neglecting her these past few months. She's been on my mind lately.
4. The DMV folks down in Henderson County, NC. I have a feeling I'm in big trouble with the law down there for an unpaid speeding ticket from 20__ . 
5. My beautician and a potential new beautician. I need to make over my hair badly! (Erin not one word! LOL)
6. Creditors for Capitol One and Verizon Wireless. Two things that need to be dropped from my credit report to make my score higher and only reflect my retarded Federal student loans. 
7. While this isn't a phone call.. this is something that I need to do to start getting ready for my travels - Write down my travel plans for the months of Nov, Dec, possibly in Jan, Feb (birthday trip) and March (Miami again? Winter Music Conference).
8. Mvemba! He leaves for Congo TOMORROW!!!!! 
Though, I've never seen this movie or read the book, I have read the synopsis and perhaps listened on plenty of discussions about this chilling fictional story. The more I've learned about the story the more facinated I've become, but I've been a bit of a procrastinator in reading the book or watching the movie.
It wasn't until in recent days that the character of Ripley has come to mind again. I can't help but wonder, if in fact I have come across a Mr. Ripley in real life. Part of my journalistic nature has caused me to read some material throughout the internet in search of "the truth". In some instance I can believe the situations because the situations and the descriptions do fit. In other instances, it's a hard call, but you have to wonder why someone would lie about going through certain situations that they have been through, unless they too are deceitful themselves.
What bothers me is the fact that I care so much to find the truth..whatever it maybe.. even though I wish not to deal with the possible Ripley at this time. I guess my hunger for a "need to know" is based off of trying to understand him more on why he is the way he is. What kind of people has he dealt with in the past and continues to? What makes him so vicious to deceive (if this is the case)? Even though I have distanced myself some way from this person, I still long to know about his REAL past. I knew some things, but I guess that was only on the surface. Things he wanted me to know. For some reason it has always bothered me when a person's actions and motivations goes unanswered.
Going to the source itself doesn't help. Just seems like I get nothing but rehearsed watered down answers, that somehow come out "poetic." The answers are so hard to believe. All I can do is shoot back with a nonchalant "uh huh." I don't want to join up with the league of women who found each other and decided to gang up on him. I hate that the truth is so hard to come by. With the source being covert and the witness or victims (however they want to call themselves) out on some kind of possible misson, it's hard to believe what is what.
I should just do what I've been doing, sit gracefully on the sidelines and continue to focus on my life, especially my health right now. Yet, I still want to know who is "the real" Mr. Ripley.
A snippet of a description of Ripley from this website.
Ripley himself lacks an identity. He is a binary automaton driven by a set of two instructions - become someone and overcome resistance. He feels like a nobody and his overriding ambition is to be somebody, even if he has to fake it, or steal it. His only talents, he openly admits, are to fake both personalities and papers. He is a predator and he hunts for congruence, cohesion and meaning. He is in constant search of a family.
I'm a grown woman, with a grown woman's health issue. The very first version of an entry of this title was in 2002 as I discussed my issues with my menstrual cycle. Today is a whole new day with a whole new issue. My day at the doctor's came today. I could not have been any happier than if I were a kid being told I were going to Disney World. The jovial excitement build the closer the hour came for me to leave for my appointment. You see, I've been dealing with some kind of digestive issue since late July and after finally acquiring an affordable health plan, finding a gastric specialist and making the appointment, this has been a big relief for me, my family and my circle of friends.
Even though I allowed the excitement to build, once I stepped foot in the bright plush, but comfy office, I knew this was it. I knew I was going to face my fate of what was going on with me. Even though I wasn't sure what fate would bring me, I was prepared. It seemed that it was only a matter of minutes after my arrival that I was in the doctor's office discussing my issues and going through those series of pesky little test, yanno like drawing blood. I hate when folks are trying to draw my blood because it takes forever to find the vein in my arm.
Through further examination, the doctor became a little more concerned as she was feeling around my abdomen area. She asked if I was sure that I wasn't pregnant. OF COURSE I'M SURE!!! She immediately determined that I need to schedule a sonogram. After feeling my abdomen, she concluded that I may have a fibroid or given from my discussion with her earlier about my mentrual problems - I may have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS). Nevertheless, she told me the sonogram is definately needed to see what's going on inside me and of course to make sure there is no internal bleeding happening.
Okay, so what are fibroids? Without using any of that medical jargon, fibroids are simply pesky benign (not cancerous) tumors that are made up of mass muscle and tissue from the wall of the uterus. Their size varies. Aunt P had developed of few of them when she became pregnant with my cousin. At the time she was told they were the size of softballs and the doctor was afraid that my cousin wouldn't be able to pass through when he was born. Fortunately he did without any issues (except for when his ambilical cord was wrapped around his neck and halted his breathing for a few seconds), but Aunt P still has them. Her stomach still looks as if she is pregnant. Yeah, fibroids can bloat your stomach like that.
There isn't a known cause for them. I don't know the numbers, but apparently fibroids are very prevelant among Black women (gotta do research on that) and occure in women who are within the reproductive age range. There aren't any hardcore symptoms, but after looking on WebMD I found these:
Most fibroids do not cause any symptoms and do not require treatment other than regular observation by a doctor. Fibroids may be discovered during routine gynecologic examinations or during prenatal care. Some women who have uterine fibroids may experience the following symptoms:
- Excessive or painful bleeding during menstruation.
- Bleeding between periods.
- A feeling of fullness in the lower abdomen.
- Frequent urination resulting from a fibroid that compresses the bladder.
- Pain during sexual intercourse
- Low back pain.
Out of what has been mentioned above I have expereinced the fullness in lower abdomen and perhaps the freqeunt urination from time to time. I also get the lower back pain, but I think that's mainly due to the fact that I desperately need a new bed and matress. *ugh!* The good news is that fibroids can be removed. Trust me, if it is found that I fibroids I want them removed as soon as possible.
Now, what is Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome? I had read about PCOS about a year ago in Figure magazine. Forgetting what I had read about it, I dug through my stacks of archived magazines and found the article I was looking for. While on the phone with my friend LAF, I reread the full article. Again, without using any of the medical language, PCOS are cysts that appear on the ovaries. It's characterized by irregular periods (which I have), early puberty (which I went through starting from the first grade), excess facial and body hair (ugh!), acne and difficulty getting pregnant. Like fibroids, there isn't a known cause for PCOS.
PCOS has been difficult to diagnois. Not many doctors are aware of this symdrome. While it's not a disease, and there is no cure, but yet treatable, it's still one of those annoying medical conditions. Some of it's reactions tend to remind me of those of a thyroid issue. If not careful PCOS can cause weight issues (obesity), fertility issues, high rates of insulin production and heart desease.
Helpful information can be found through the US Dept of Health and Human Services, National Women's Health Information center.
While the final verdict is still out, I'm kind of hoping this is nothing more than just a fibroid. As stated earlier, I would seek to have it removed and keep on moving about my business. In the menatime, the doctor did prescribe some constipation medication for me. I still have to schedule my sonogram. I have to do one more self "at home" test, but I'll spare my readers from that. Let's just say next week, for three days in a row, I have to deal with my own shit. Literally.
His name is Bruno. Okay so technically he isn't mine. I guess I'm just adopting him. His name isn't really Bruno neither, it's something that I wanted to call "my" next dog. My mother bought the robotic gadget to give to my little cousin Andre for his 7th birthday. Truthfully speaking, I don't know if he was really into it. Afterall, the box did say ages 8 plus. Andre missed the mark by a year. While the rest of us grown folks were entertained by the dog's antics to the music, Andre was just content playing with his Ben Ten watch and some other little gadgets he received for his big day. He stayed around long enough to see the dog's snout light up, his ears sit straight up and even listen to him bark as he reacts to sound.
If you haven't figured it out by now, its an I-Dog. Even though the dog reacts to sound, it's designed to hook up your MP3 player (perferably an I-Pod) and watch the dog come alive. I read through the booklet of instructions and found it quite amusing, especially a passage under the "Getting Started" section.
"When you first turn I-Dog on, it will be in puppy mode. This means it has not yet established a personality because it hasn't been fed any of your music. You can give I-Dog love and attention, however, it's best to feed it music as soon as possible."
So does this mean that the gadget will die of starvation if i never feed it music? Will the dog become clinically depressed? Will I be charged with robotic animal abuse? This I-Dog seems to be a responsiblilty. What's even more shocking, was the fact the dog growled me when I was trying to turn him off. He got pissed! You're suppose to turn the dog off by holding the nose down a few seconds. At first the dog seemed like he was shutting down, then he started barking. He was lighting up, waging his plastic ears and refusing to "go to sleep." I tried shutting him off again, he was still lit up and turning his head. My grandmother suggested that I unplug the cord (that was in his side) that connect him to the I-Pod. I pulled the cord out from his side and the dog SNAPPED! I didn't realized it, but I had jumped back. My mother, grandmother and aunt was doubled over in laughter at the scene. After one more try of pushing the nose down for a few second, Bruno finally shut off and I quickly stuffed him back into the box.
Needless to say, I haven't taken Bruno out of his box/dog cage since then. Well, okay, I took him out once to take his picture but I promptly put him back in the box. He's on punishment for the growling and snapping.
In other news, last night I had a fun time with some long lost Irish relatives. Well not really my relatives, but I have been wondering lately about any relatives I (may) have in Ireland. On my father side, an aunt from down the family line married this Irishman. Legend has it, we have relatives in Ireland we don't know about and apparently the family is of a Creole and Italian mix as well. Yet, the family last name is British! However, this is another story.
Last night I attended a wedding reception for one of my mother's best friend's son. Ironically, this is the same son that my mother tried to be slick and hook me up with a few years ago, but that was very short lived. Nothing took place. I actually hadn't seen this son in a couple of years. Not since his little 30th birthday party that my mother, his mother and myself crashed at his townhouse.
Apparently he met this girl.. excuse me... this woman who is originally from Ireland. They had been dating for about a year, got engaged and the wedding took place in Ireland last month. From the picture on the invite to the reception, she looked like "Plain Jane." She stilled looked like it last night, even in her sexy salsa-like little black dress, but in the wedding pictures she looked BEAUTIFUL! The whole night, a slide show of the wedding in Ireland flashed across a screen. In a way I was jealous that I couldn't be there. The scenary was awesome. It was truly rolling hills of green. Everyone that was there stayed in this castle which magnified the whole formal affair. I can't explain it, but to simply say the day looked to be beyond beautiful. Through the pictures, it was a fairy tale like story.
Last night's reception was nice as it was held at the Pheonix Park Hotel, an Irish hotel near Union Station. The bride had some of her family from Ireland in town. The food was nothing fancy, but some Irish finger food delicacies...unless you want to call eating mashed potatos out of a martini glass fancy. I was told that it was some type of formal Irish dish. I couldn't believe it. I thought it was pretty cute. Just scoop the mashed potatos in a martini glass, put your toppings on it and voila!
At first I was afraid that the party would be nothing more than the "White family" sitting down and watching us "Black folks" party into infinity. It was like that was for a minute. However, I don't know what did it, the self proclaimed kareoke voice on the mic cousin of the groom or the few drinks that everyone had, but Irish "got down" right along with us. Well maybe I shall exclude myself. Even though I was having a good time, for some reason I was not in a dancing mood. I had too much fun watching the old woman "freaking" this guy on the dance floor and the Irish family trying to do some of the line dances...the booty call, the electric slide and what's the other one when the guy is like touch your knees, criss cross and asking how low can you go? i really got a kick when the DJ prompted the famous Weather Girls song "It's Raining Men." The bride, all of her girlfriends and even one of my mother's friends rushed to the dance floor to form a circle and do some kind of rain dance with there arms flinging and their hips shaking. It was too funny. You had to be there!
Show us your favorite mug.
So here it is...my favorite mug. I know, it's a bit out of focus (gosh I need to hurry and get a new digi cam), but it's the best I could do for now. So, what is all the blurry writing. Well I guess I am a bit obsessed with being an Aquarius and all. The writing is a rundown of all the characteristics of a "water bearer." This was a neat little find at a novelty/gift store on Capitol Hill, The Pulp. Actually there is another location near the U Street/Adams Morgan area, but I stumbled across The Hill store by accident last fall. It's a quirky lil store with different novelty gifts and such. They also serve as a small neo-soul type music store. It was there last fall that I bought this mug along with Floetry's second album. As my ex now turned good friend would call it - I was having a "Selah moment" minus the incense.
Why I love this mug? Simply because it's me!
What makes me love this episode so much is Carrie's modesty and her honest realization that she is just an ordinary person and she is pretty pleased with that. I also love the fact that her ordinary, girl next door looks could easily be transformed into some kind of - for lack of better words - a sexy siren. With a few added hair extensions and a nice but not overly done make up job, Carrie strutted down the catwalk in stilettos, a pair of jeweled Dolce and Gabbana panties and a beautiful satin deep purple trench coat. Of course the comic relief in all of this is Carrie falling flat on her face before she could get down the runway good. Yet, she managed to get up, dust herself off and strut. Needless to say she did receive a standing ovation in applause and cheer, including a high five from supermodel Heidi Klum, for her act of runway bravery.
In watching that episode (for the God only knows how many times), it only reminded me more of how I desperately want to reinvent myself. The funny thing is, the more I think about reinventing myself, the more the thoughts become this huge snowball of other thoughts. Basically, I’m led to believe that I need a whole renovation of my life. Things or status levels that I longed for at 22 and 23 I'm still longing for - a more financial stable life, a place to call my own, a job I'm in love with and can say I'm fulfilled by and a special companion to share my all with.
I remind myself time and time again that I've come a long way from being the isolated and tormented soul I use to be. I’m grateful for having made it through that dark portion of my life and was able to make significant strides. However, there is still more to go. There are still things that I desire to accomplish, with my two biggies - finally pushing out my novel to print and the documentary I'm slowly but surely piecing together to pitch/propose. I guess in the end I do want to be "That Girl." Yanno, the one that is turning heads in a room from my accomplishments and beyond without uttering a word. I guess I do desire some portion of the limelight, but not for the sake of being vein.
There is this song called "Don't Make Me Over" that Dionne Warwick sung back in the day. A singer called Sybil in the early 90s later remade it.
Don't make me over/ Now that I'd do anything for you/ Don't make me over/ Now that you know how I adore you
Don't pick on the things I say, the things I do/ Just love me with all my faults, the way that I love you/ I'm begging you
What's funny is, as much as I desire to have some kind of a make over in my life done, I fear having it. I have a fear of loosing parts of myself that I hold dear, especially my humbleness. I don't ever want to loose that part of me. So what exactly do I want to change? It's kind of hard to tell. I want to change my outside appearance - my hair, my wardrobe, even a better makeup job. I try, but somehow in my efforts, I still manage to be this low-key, eclectic, quasi bohemian-like chic. On the inside, I would like to add a little more self confidence. There are still some parts of me that feels like this shy and docile little girl. On a few occassions I've had people tell me I should be more assertive, but I tend to pick and choose my battles. I don't jump out and voice my opinion at the drop of every dime. If I feel the need to be assertive then I will be. Otherwise, I kind of accept (my) life for what it is.
Accept me for what I am/Accept me for the things that I do/Accept me for what I am/Accept me for the things that I do
At the beginning of the year I did declare that 2006 was a year of transition. I also declared a mantra of some sort of being young and living. So far, both my declarations have not failed me. I feel myself fighting in a way, contemplating and still transitioning into something that seems to be beyond me. In the midst of all of this, I have managed to live a calmer life with a few occssions of living on that edge between the person I use to be and the person I'm transitioning to be.
Maybe that's it! maybe the make over I'm desperatly seeking won't happen until this transition phase is complete. Maybe I need to comppletely purge myself of all the dead weight that I still may be carrying from the past in order to press on. Maybe that's what's holding me back, the leftover dead weight that lives in nooks and crannies and refuses to leave.
By the end of the year, I hope to purge whatever demons are left. I hate being stuck in one emotional place.
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