Thursday, October 30, 2014

Thirty minutes swimming, thirty minutes walking, 224. I feel great.

Free write for Wednesday, October 29

It's 7:29 pm and I am at home. I'm not sure about how I feel. I think I'm sad. There's no reason why. I'm not sad. I'm mad. Just a little. I'm back on the medication and the pills do help me sleep. But I need them to promise me. I fool myself into believing that being back on meds means the sinking will stop. It doesn't. I get so excited and I believed I could take on the whole world. I can do everything. I can edit a book and write a book and do my homework and hire an assistant and create a new chapbook and sew a dress and make a tote bag and edit my blog and teach a few classes and drive around the world in a day. I can't though.

The doctor told me to try taking the sleeping pills every other day. I like her. But she may as well ask me to sleep every other day.

The sinking after the high is the worst. It's not the worst. I hate that word. Worst. I don't ever want to know that the worst is. It is hard though. It is. Because I feel it coming and I pray and scratch and claw but I can't seem to stop it from coming.

I called a friend. Mostly to feel alive. I think I needed my voice to be heard by someone else. When I check on people it means they matter. I think I wanted to matter at the same time.

My insurance will only pay for one sleeping pill a night. Sometimes I take two. I take them early because I rest  better when it's early. I took the pills with the other one. It's working I think. I think. I think. I think. I'm tired of hearing myself say I think. What do I know? Know. Know.

I want meat. I'm craving crunchy bacon. Why am I craving crunchy bacon? I don't want to go and get anything. Can someone bring me crunchy bacon? Or crispy chicken? I don't even like bacon, or chicken really. But I want some. And super well done. Can someone burn some chicken and bring it to me?

I need a break. I need to not have anything to do for a week. But I have a lot to do this week. I want to cancel this show on Saturday. I want to not go to either of my classes tomorrow. I want to not go to my evening class on Monday. I want to not, not, not right now. I want to lie in bed for a week and eat crunchy bacon and drink orange juice and whiskey. I need a hotel room. I want to not be near other people right now. Except my son. I want to hear his stories.

I have to get some food. When I take these pills without food I get sick. I want to go to sleep. I want a wine cooler. I want grits and butter and crunchy bacon.


I am thankful for waking up this morning
For the energy to go swimming
I am thankful for being dressed for swim already
I am thankful for love and peace in my life
For my son
My friends and family
I am thankful for being thankful

Monday, October 27, 2014

It's 3:30 am and I am at Reagan National Airport headed to North Carolina and then to my final destination (for this trip) which is Los Angeles. It's been a great trip. Much work to do at home so I'm looking forward to being there.

I'm always the arrive at the airport two hours ahead of time woman so I'm here. My flight is at 5:40. But hey, it gives me time to get some writing in and I still have much work to do on the anthology I'm working on for my students.

Starbucks could be open though, and that would be cool. But not yet though, Dang.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

It's 4:47 pm and I am working in my hotel room. The WomanPreach event for this session ended last night. Overall it was great. It always is. My life is always changed in some good way after being in the presence of such phenomenal women.

Now I'm working on an anthology for the three classes I teach. I'm trying to have this completed by Tuesday night and I hope I do, but...

As it turns out asking for an assistant was a great idea. Someone agreed to get my stories printed and ready for me for my Monday night class every week. Huge relief. The classes I teach end at 2:18 and my class starts at 4:30 and getting some kind of rest and prepared for class and making copies has proven to be a bit of a joke.

Also someone else has agreed to assist me on the kagillion administrative things in my businesses and personal life. Another huge relief. The plan is that this will give me room to further create and generate. Mo' money!

I know the post is mad choppy. Whatever.

I got out for about twenty minutes today. I went out to get a latte from Starbucks and ran into a vendor's post across the street. I had to stop. I met a cool sista who was also a vendor. Her name is Maliquekah. She gave me permission to mention her on my blog. I wish I had my phone with me while I was out because I would have taken a photo of her and her beautiful jewelry. I didn't though. Anyway, she asked me to mention to all the D.C. folks who also might be readers here that every Sunday after 4 pm at the Eastern Market on 7th and Pennsylvania they have bags of veggies for only a dollar! Yep.

I'm trying to rush a bunch of work in right now because my cab is coming tomorrow at 3 am. There's packing to do. A bath to take. Why do I love baths so much? And rest to get because I get into L.A. at 10 am and then have to go straight to work. That's cool though. I'm super thankful for a friend picking me up from the airport instead of me having to wait on the shuttle to my car. I'm saying yes yes yes to ways my life can be easier.

It's water time. Plus I'm going to gobble down these grapes and turn in super early.

Love y'all. I do.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

In Washington D.C for WomanPreach this weekend

How many people get mislabeled when fighting for justice? - Valerie Hugsy Bridgeman

You can't talk about what you yourself are not burned by - Valerie Hugsy Bridgeman

If your preaching isn't about real people, who are you preaching for? -Valerie Hugsy Bridgeman

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Rest Angel

Angel Hooper was in the first grade
First grade
No first grader should be referred to in the past tense
Angle Hooper went to a 7-Eleven gas station to get bubble gum
With her father
Her father
It was Friday
That's what you do when you are six years old on Friday evenings
You go jogging and you get gum
You blow bubbles
Bubbles steel and pink and iron and shield
Jesus be bubble gum all around me every day
Someone in a passing vehicle
Shot into a Kansas City parking lot
Before Booker Hooper
Bubble gum buyer
Hand holder
Could pull her away
She was dead
A six year old black girl
With braids and ribbons
And smile
And baby teeth
And twinkle eyes
And back pack
But no gum
Is dead
Say dead out loud
Let your jaw scrape the cement
Do not pretty up this tragedy
Ask yourself why
Remind yourself that
Angel Hooper is your daughter and my daughter
Tell yourself that Angel is too young to be an angel
Do not pretty up this horror with metaphor
There is gum for sale
And a bullet lodged in the head of a six year old girl
Who was not the intended target
Not the intended target
Like that makes it easier
Please let this trigger you
Please cry and see her face
Please think about her mother
Her father
Her sister
Her brother
Her gum
Her jogging feet
Her falling body
Not the intended target
Like that makes it easier
I am so incredibly proud of my brilliant, beautiful, handsome, amazing son. His grades are wonderful and the human spirit he is makes me just wanna scream to the moon how blessed I am to be his mother. I am thankful for him. I am thankful to God. I am thankful for the team of amazing people who keep him on path. I am thankful for his father. I am thankful for his stepmother (even though I don't believe in steps and fractions. I am his mother and so is she). I am thankful for all of his grandparents. I am thankful for his aunts and uncles and cousins. His teachers and friends. I am thankful to those of you who hold him in prayer with me. I am thankful for the ancestors who whisper love in his ear. I love you Uraeus.
Artists in Trenton, New Jersey created a mural of Michael Brown, the eighteen year old young black man who was murdered by Ferguson, Missouri police. The artists got permission from authorities but the mural was taken down because Trenton police claimed the painting "sent the wrong message about community and police relations."

Seriously? The mural was of Michael Brown in graduation cap and blue gown with white stars and red and white flap. There was also a quote that said "Sagging pants is not probable cause."

What wrong message?
I am incredibly proud of my son, Uraeus! I just am. His grades are great and who he is as a human being is even greater!

Post racial what?

This is what happened in Killeen, Texas last May:

Officers were climbing through a window and four of them were hit, one was killed. Killer was Marvin Guy who had a criminal record and was suspected of possessing cocaine.

Five months earlier and a hundred miles away SWAT officer was shot during no knock raid when "Hank" Magee grabbed gun to protect himself and pregnant girlfriend with his .308 rifle.

Guy is black, Magee is white.

They found that Magee acted in self defense but prosecutors are seeking death penalty for Guy. He remains in jail.
Just watched a video of a seventeen years old black child sentenced to jail for thirty-five years for credit card fraud. This young man looks all of fourteen years old. My heart breaks again. Credit card fraud!!?! If he were white I don't believe this would be his fate. What hurts almost as bad as this baby is jail for like ever is reading comments by folks saying they don't care about his sentences and he should be in jail for so long because somebody's credit is messed up because of what he did. Thirty-five years though? Seriously, how much of this sentences is because he is black?