Tag Archives: NaBloPoMo

Daddy’s New York


I just found this half finished piece I wrote on Evernote. It was based on a dream I had about my father..or at least someone who represented my father. I stopped writing because the dream ended and I don’t remember the rest. Should I just leave it or use my imagination to finish it? Let me know in the comments.

I tapped his shoulder. He turned around and a grin so wide appeared on his face. I looked down and smiled, but he pulled my face back up with his hand.
“Never hide that smile. It’s like your mother’s. Its why I fell in love with her”.
“How are you, Dad?”
His face turns somber as he considers my question. I use the awkward pause to study his face. His eyes are hollow with gray-ish circles underneath. There’s still a dancing light in his eye. Probably the same one my mother says he got when his favorite baseball team played.
I can tell he isn’t well. A part of me wishes it was because of his Lupus but I know it isn’t. There is no secret about his drug use but we’ve never talked about it. He’s a Taurus like me so anything I say will just hit a brick wall. His lips are chapped and they were recently bleeding.
The hair that was once the talk of South Jamaica now resembles a black matter cap on his head. It’s grown out and stock a out on the sides. Reminds me of dirty straw. He cocks his head to the left.
” I’m fine,baby girl.
Baby girl. The sentiment hits me in the chest and I let out a deep breath. I’ve been called “baby girl ” by no good men I’ve dated. It always bought a smile to my face and a warmth in my groin,but this time it literally takes my breath away.
After all this time,I sill wanted to be Daddy’s Little Girl. I had pushes that idea out of my mind because I didn’t think I’d ever hear it from him. I grab his calluses but warm hand. I tug on it and we walk through the park.
I stop at a hot dog stand. I remember my great grandmother calling them “dirty Frank’s. Maybe she thought that the dogs somehow were sullied by the polluted New York air once they were transferred to the bun,then the customer. I start to tell the cart guy my order when Dad yells that I should let him guess what I like.
“Come on Dad, I’m hungry ” I protest. I shift my weight from my right foot to my left. It’s my tell tale of uncomfortability. Dad studies my face then looks down at my belly.
” You like it with ketchup and spicy mustard” he proclaims.
He is completely off. I hate spicy food and thanks to my younger brother, who drowned everything in ketchup,I hate that too. Do I tell him he’s way off? He nods his head eagerly,waiting my response.
“Good guess, Dad”
He gives me the thumbs up but I don’t offer to guess his favorite for fear of him lying to me the way I lied to him. He asks for a spicy sausage with onions. My stomach churns because that is actually my favorite thing to get. I pay for our food not bothering to wait for him to do it because I know any money he has is for his…vice. Maybe the ketchup and spicy mustard won’t be so bad. Before I could get in my third bite, Dad osis already balling up the aluminum foil wrapper his sausage was in. I grab the paper from him and he makes a hoop with his arms. I dunk and he cheers for me.
” You like basketball,kid?” He asks
“Sometimes. The last time I enjoyed it was when Dwayne Wade won his first championship. Mourning and Peyton were on his team then.
“Hmm…that was awhile ago,baby girl”
“Yeah,my brother taught me how basketball works that year and I liked it” I respond.
I immediately regret bringing up my brother. My father has always ignores the fact that I have a sibling through adoption. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, akin to his many nights emptying his stomach of putrid bile. No one wants to be reminded of their failure as a parent,I suppose.
We walk along in silence. I love the biting chill a New York winter chill brings. People scatter like roaches to get away from it, but I embrace it. The mostly dreary days bring me peace. I wonder what brings Daddy peace. Is it a sound? A color? A taste? A season?
After a we are a block out of the block, I realize that we aren’t going anywhere. I look up at Dad and he smiles at me.
“Where are we going?”
We’re here” he responds
Does he not now I’ve lived here my whole life? Like,all 30 years of it.

You May Quote Me…


Today’s quote involves food,one of my favorite things (or so says my 230+lbs and 5′ ft frame). The author is unknown.

The broccoli says “I look like a small tree”,the mushroom says “I look like an umbrella”,the walnut says “I look like a brain”, and the banana says “Can we please change the subject?”


From My Personal Diary: First Day of School


September 9,2013

Today was Bubba’s first day of school (1st grade to be exact). I was so emotional while walking her to school. Every time I looked at her, tears threatened to fall. She sensed it,I think, and kept telling me she loved me. She is getting so big and sometimes I really miss my little baby girl. When I got her to school, I wanted to just throw her over my shoulder and go back home. But I toughed it out for her sake.

Bubba’s teacher is Mrs. Jean-Charles and she seems nice. She is also very young. I asked Bubba if she was nice and she said yes. I know one of her classmates, Trinity D. I have to admit,I compared Bubba to the other kids as far as looks go bit of course she’s the cutest thing in the world.

Mrs. Jean-Charles sent Bubba’s homework for the week home. I was excited to do homework with Bubba. Her first assignment was to practice writing her heading. It was very hard to get her to write on one line at a time and space her words evenly. It’s going to take plenty of practice because Bubba is not used to writing in a uniform way. She was frustrated with herself and me for repeating instructions and erasing her work. I’m not as patient as I thought and I admit to comparing Bubba to me when I was in 1st grade.

I signed up to be a PTA volunteer and I can’t wait to flex my creative muscles. I want to be SUPER involved in Bubba’s  education because not enough parents are, especially young parents. I want to smash the belief that young parents only care about partying.

This one day of school has me so tired but I can’t wait to do it all again tomorrow and for the rest of my life. Her bedtime routine was a breeze and she was asleep by 9:30. I can’t believe I am the mother of a first grader. Where did the time go and what’s next?

What’s in a Name?


This is the prompt from November 7th:
If you had to switch your first name,what name would you choose and why?

If I had to change my first name,I think I’d change it to Lorelei. To me, it sounds very free spirited and would be the name of a beautiful,red headed, ethereal fairy. Apparently, it’s a German name and meant both a rocky cliff on the Rhine river and it also was the name of a fairy tail creature whose singing lured men to destruction.

I like these meanings because it means I am strong,solid,and unmovable. I’d have the power of persuasion,and I’d be a pretty good singer. If I’m only changing my first name and keeping my middle names,I’d be Lorelei Lauren Marie. It could be a bit of a tongue twister but I like the way it sounds. Maybe I’ll use it as a pen name in the future…

Contradiction- Part One


Another piece my friend,Frankie. Give it some thought and let me know what you think.

While the ghettos of America are filled woth terrible things like poverty and violence,the mindset of the young people living there are especially scary. One of the biggest epidemics that have been spread through the ‘hood, is the contradiction of being “real” and beong “fake”. Let’s look at this story.
A young gangbanger,who goes by the name of Cash,had a disagreement with a young recruit. Cash, feeling disrespected by being “stepped to” by someone he didn’t see as real,hit the recruit in the mouth. He followed up by.knocking the boy tp the ground and repeatedly kicking him.
Now why would Cash react with sich agression against his own gang member? Most likely because he needed to be seen as real in the eyes of his homies. It is seen as real for someone to ne overly agressive in any dispute now in order to maintain credibility. A fake would walk away or choose not to fight. On the other hand, some would see Cash as a “wild&loose” gang member who is wrong for his actions. The only problem with this is too often the people who say he overreacted are the same who would have said “I would’ ve hit him if I was Cash” had Cash chosen the path of non violence.
Until the ‘hood can conform as to what us respectable there will be too many confused young men out there who simply know that they want to be real.

Not Feelin’ It


Today is one of my off days. I’m feeling bored,restless, unmotivated, sad,&hopeless. Every now and then I feel that way. Sometimes it lasts for a few days and other times a few weeks. I feel upbeat and happy and then all of a sudden I’m down in the dumps.

I guess I have a little motivation because I’m sticking with NaBloPoMo. I don’t feel like blogging right now but I’m doing it because I gave my word and my mom used to say your word was all you had. So, eat that….uh….unmotivated…me?

The Conference


Yesterday was Bubba’s parent/teacher conference. I went by myself,despite Mommy N’s claim that she would go with me. I seem to be doing alot of Bubba’s school activities alone. Mommy A used to get excited right along with me when I would come home and talk about Bubba’s school activities. Now,there’s no one to get excited with…

Bubba’s teacher thanked me for being so thorough with her homework. She said that Bubba is right where she needs to be. She keeps up with the other children well and tries her best at everything. Unfortunately, kindergarten does not receive an official report card in the state of New York until January. I did receive a progress report and Bubba is definitely like me…she HATES Math and has a hard time grasping the concepts which I suspect is the cause of her disdain for the subject. She also had trouble with syllables.But Mrs. s told me not to worry, she’ll get it.

I think Mrs. S sensed I was worried about Bubba and she grabbed my hand and told me  she could tell Bubba is a happy child. She admitted that the work load for kindergarteners is very tough and its changed alot over the years. I believe they are being prepped to take those standardized tests which the school chancellor has admitted is harder.

Anyway, overall I was pleased with everything I heard and it was nice to meet Bubba’s teacher because Bubba says she really loves her and anyone she loves I have to get to know better!

What has your experience been like at parent/teacher conferences? What do you think of the higher standards being set by the B.O.E?

It’s Your Turn,Lord


As I mentioned before, my mother was very educated when it came to the Bible and her spirituality. I have a large suitcase of hers with nothing but spiritual literature. I was going through some of her books and I found a poem that spoke to me so much that I read it at her funeral. It reminded me if how my mom always said  that anything you want in this life is yours if you give it to the Lord.

It’s Your Turn,Lord
By Linda Evans Shepherd

I found my dream and held it tight
And prayed for wings to give it flight
But yet it stayed earthbound with me.
Because I did not set it free

Although I held it to my heart
Somehow it seemed to fall apart
“Oh Lord,” I cried unhappily
“Why did you take my dream from me?”

“My child, your dream is incomplete
Until you lay it at my feet
Unless you give your dream to me,
It cannot find its destiny”

I knew I had to let it go
For I had nothing left to show
Until my dream was in His hands
I could not see His plan so grand

Let the church say “Amen!”

From my Personal Diary- Happy Birthday,King of Pop


August 29,2013

Today would have been Michael Jackson’s 55th birthday.I’m reminded of when I first fell in love deep admiration for him. I was 13 years old and Mommy N,L,and I were watching his 30th anniversary special. There were alot of performers singing his hits but the real magic started when he got on stage.

He was in his 40s so I was aware he was “past his prime”. Or so the media kept insisting. That’s not what I saw. I saw pure magic on that stage. I saw a man who had (beyond a shadow of a doubt) been blessed with a true gift of music. He lived it and I saw it. From that day,I was hooked. Mommy N said Michael had been around forever and that she had loved him too when he was in the Jackson 5. I didn’t care about her experience with him because she didn’t connect with him like I did.

He was obviously different. I knew all about all the things people,newspapers,and t.v said about about “Wacko Jacko” and maybe some of it had merit. When Michael opened his mouth,I heard his soul. I heard how he was saddened by what people thought but how he could’nt help who he was. I was 13 so of course I felt misunderstood by everyone in my life. But that feeling went on into adulthood. And Michael was there.

No,I am not some crazed superfan. I’m just a woman who is a bit complicated and found the theme song to that. Michael,like myself,was a kindred spirit to complications and made music for others who felt the same. Happy Birthday,Michael.

My Take on MTV’s Teen Mom


I have been watching Teen Mom since the beginning. When it aired, I think I was 19. I finally got to see a show where I was represented. Alot of people assume that when you are a teen mom, you automatically live with your mom(who everyone assumes is a single mom& that’s why you got knocked up), that your life is over& that you have no daddy for your baby. Although I have seen that on Teen Mom, I’ve also seen evidence to the contrary. I’ve seen moms living on their own(whether it be with the child’s father or alone),I’ve seen them juggle school,work& baby. I’ve seen them become adult women. Maybe they shouldn’t have become teen moms, but their lives are FAR from over.

The show has gotten alot of flack for exploiting these girls and airing their meltdowns and various struggles. To those people I say “Bah, humbug”. I’m glad that the good & bad is shown. Motherhood is hard for every woman who has ever done it, whether they were 17 or 47. Plus, it shows other teens exactly what they will be signing up for if they decide they want to become parents. My brother asked me the other night why I still watch Teen Mom when I’m 24 years old and no longer a teen. My response was “I watch it because it shows me where I used to be. These girls,in alot of ways,are me. It makes want to support all of them and I thank God for how far I’ve come”. It as simple as that.