Happy Mama's Day

Practice makes perfect

I visited a friend this weekend and ended up helping her and her family paint their kitchen. I like visiting and find it a good escape from my normal life out in the city. Due to the fact that most of their fathers' are basically absent, I look forward in spending quality time with them. Not as a father figure, but more as a positive male role model. It is a shame how hard it is on single women now a days. Can't get a man to help change a light bulb let alone...buy a carton of milk. The whole family structure has deteriorated so low that it is much needed breath of fresh air when a man steps in, even if it is for only a weekend. I am not sure on how the impact of my actions truly effect her or her family, but all I can try to do is my best, to be a stand up brotha...can you dig it?

OOPS UPSIDE YA HEAD.....

I try to mind my own bidness, but when I seen that girl get smacked up side her head, I had to get my voyeurism on. Me and my co-worker Carl were minding our own business, painting some old rusted doors in the "Outta Control" projects. Me being as observant as I am, I began to notice a group of girls congregating by a car. Nothing out of the normal, so me and Carl continued to paint and shoot the breeze. Then all of a sudden I began to feel that same tension I use to get on the yard when something was about to go down. The female wolfpack was creeping towards the neighborhood hang out. I watched intently. Voices began to rise like the tide at Stinson Beach. Hands started to stray from their sides, eyebrows arched, top lips scratched the corner of noses, oh it was getting ready to go down. I knew one of the ladies from back in the days "Rosy". She was one of my potnahs girlfriend. But what was she doing out here, with these youngstas actin' hyphy for? Wouldn't you know it, when the sixteen year old girl turned to the right, Rosy hit her hard with a right. The police began to come down Larch alleyway, people scattered, the sixteen year old girl began to cry, pout, see she is on the Queen Latifah side, (kinda chunky for a sixteen year old) and usually she is the one who does the beating up, I guess today she got a taste of her own medicine...but from a 40 year old.

As me and Carl continued painting I received a call from John my boss, said he needed me to help Clay with moving some furniture. First of all, Clay is a lazy bum. He tries to fake the role of being a good guy, but I know better. He aint all that bad, but he aint all that good either. But now who is...anyway we are taking a table into the commu nity room and then there is a boom-boom!
I barely hear it and it doesn't sound too out of the ordinary, maybe its some construction going on down the street. Then I turn around and see one of the residents running with her hands in the air, "They shootin', they shootin'!"
Clay isn't moving, I look to him as he stands in the doorway, I inquire as to why he aint movin' his fat ass in the community room. He replies that, "You got your table leg caught on that chair and I can't move." I said, "If you don't move your fat ass out the way." I push the leg and basically scoot Clay inside. We wait a minute, see if the coast is clear and then I began to head for the office. Good ole Clay does what, heads straight towards the gunfire.
Although all the shooting had stopped, it just showed me the differences in culture that black folks have that other cultures don't. The biggest thing which I wish we could unadapt is the killing one another. Wake up brothaman/systagurl and stop the violence.

SHAKIN' LIKE A EPILEPTIC!!!

I was nervous as hell as I sat at the computer. My hand wasn't metaphorically shaking like a leaf, it was physically "SHAKING LIKE AN EPILEPTIC"! Since I am epileptic, I can say that. But seriously, as I was taking my A+ exam, I didn't know if I was coming or going. Yeah, I knew a majority of the answers, still and all...my hand fumbling with that mouse as i clicked in my answers. Then as it said exit, I clicked and everything disapeered, I hopped up fled to door distraught about what I had just done, I wasn't quite sure if I barely passed or slipped thru the cracks. I called the attendant, (for lack of better words) to rush to my aid. He must have knew something that I didn't because he sort of smirked, hit a key on the keyboard and said relax, its just a survey you need to take next. He didn't seem enthused so I took it as I was on the way home a failure. I sped thru the survey, not answering all of the questions, still too nervous...then I finally reached my destination..."CONGRATULATIONS LANNIE ROSS"! It felt soooo good to finally get that monkey off my back. I wasn't filled with glee but I was more than willing to exhale. So I did, wooooooooooooo!

I went home checked my emails and saw a ticket alert from ticketmaster. It said Ms. Badu's tickets were on sale. I verified it and it was true. I placed a order as quickly as I could. The best seats left were in the M row, right in the middle. For $175 I would have paid for one ticket in row G, now I am four rows back for face value. I am so happy I can see that gurl do her thang, I am not a big Roots fan, but I am sure they will be alright anyway. I also got a aquarium off of freecycle, a organization dedicated to helping recycle whatever you don't need. I have been trying to locate pieces to put together a nice aquarium for a anole I saw at Petco. Now all I need to do is finish paying off my bills, hmmm...funny how that works.

Supa Cali Freakalistic NewYork State Ferocious

Sometimes I feel like....

Sometimes I feel like...
rockin' my stunna shades

not worryin'
about where my life is headed

only holdin' on
to what's fo' certain

being black
and dyin' dat way

sometimes I feel like...
he do, so fill in the blank

amok run
on the floor get on
you know, that Michael Jackson song

I sing it
when the water is spilling
slowly upward
thru the pipes

I stopped thru to say hello

I stopped by the hotel to check in with my mom yesterday, right after I found out that last months storage bill hadn't been paid. After some thought, I went ahead and paid the amount so I would be able to remove the few bags which I had put in there last month until I got my living conditions stabilized. I don't have a problem with helping my family out with financial issues when I can, but they are horrifically awful with communication. I tend to feel better about situations knowing exactly what I am getting myself into, instead of walking into the den without preparation for the slaughter.

I called my mother to inform her that they took the lock off for the moment, and that she should try to stay current with keeping up her bills. If she doesn't she and the rest of my sisters and brothers will lose all that they can't carry by hand. She agreed, but she and I know better, it's only a matter time until the situation arises again. I don't fault her for keeping a roof over her and her children's head, however my brother who is mentally disabled has his own hotel room while the rest of the family (5 at the moment) share a room upstairs. Not only is that not cost efficient, it's just plain unfair to treat him as if he is some sort of king, when he is partly responsible for the eviction in the first place. I tried my best to offer suggestions and intervene, however it was to no avail, and it seemed as if it was beginning to birth a rift between my mother and I, so I retreated. If they like it, I love it...I guess? The thing is, I now that they don't.

On the upside, my mother won a Ipod Touch, which she was trying to sell for $250 to keep their rooms for the next two days. I offered her $200 and bought it. That, plus the storage fee, rent, phone bill, internet service, food... I guess you get my drift... I am trying to hang on, but shit-I just did 8 years in San Quentin, I know tomorrow's not promised, so let's do the damn thang!