Music doesn’t do all that much for me.

I look at you music gurus and your obsession confuses me. You become transfixed, transformed – a life without music for you is a death sentence. You post the latest videos on Facebook, you pay that big money for the concerts and pride yourself on staying on top of all the underground artists.

You make me sick.

Not as sick as those reality tv show whores but still, like a horrible story that won’t end you feed music to me as if I think about it in the same way that you do – stop. I liked the song but it didn’t change my life and I won’t pay more than .99 cents for it.

I feel bad….

Do you read?

Sometimes, when I follow the words down the page of a book, the rooms gets really quiet as if the author is personally telling me their story. The emotional ups and downs, the development of characters, the flow of themes and prose is so loud that I have to put the book down so that my imagination catches us to the story line. It’s like some weird cranial orgasm. How do they write so well? Makes you shiver.

Is that how music is for you?

Black Sweat Pants

Its official. I am wearing black sweat pants to work. Pertussis has gotten the best of me and quite frankly I am over pretending that I have the strength to get myself together for an 8 hour work day.

Hopefully I will have more insightful comments later on today. Until then.

Holiday Party. Pertussis. And Then -

So at my company Holiday party (which I hosted last night) I joked with my 30 something white co-worker about her new beau / relationship laughing while commenting on the fact that she will probably be married and pregnant within the year. Seconds after I made the comment, my 40 something White boss chimed in and said "stop laughing that will probably be your reality too" -

I stopped and thought about the possibility of me finding myself in a relationship, happy and pregnant within the next 365 days and it seemed like a distant, self-defeating dream that is not the reality of brown girls like me. Sigh. As my baby itch rages on, I guess one can only hope.

Random continuation - I also reflected on the fact that I have officially had pertussis for 5 weeks and 3 days. Yes, pertussis. As in whooping cough. Why is this my reality. Ahhhh. It has made me reflect on illnesses like emphysema. I cannot imagine how good it feels to smoke but if it ends with a condition where you are forced to hack up your lungs every day, I'm GOOD!

And then - yea so I haven't blogged since March and I have no idea how long I will keep this up but a Traveling Womanist reminded me of something I started long ago and never truly took seriously, so I'm back. Until the next time, peace 8 )

...

I’m not your happy child
your depression
your anxiety
your hate

I’m not a feminist
a misogynist
a womanist
a miscreant
or a saint

I’m not your golden showers
your every hour
your virgin flower
your forever mate

I’ll eat what I want
fuck who I want
love who I want
without your say

Krystal Fawn Baugher

Now I can send messages via my phone (like texts) and they show up on my blog! Ahhhh technology!

Watching Anxiety Disorders on A&E -

As I watch these episodes, I no longer feel ashamed of my tears, anger outburts or even my nervous breakdowns...

If expressing these emotions prevents hoarding, anxiety attacks, OCD (to name a few)...then I embrace them with every piece of my being 8 /

Random Thoughts at 1 AM -

When I am in a relationship, I always wonder how the man will be in "certain" situations. I imagine our life together as moments. How will he be if I marry him? What kind of father will he be? Will he be kind and attentive when I am pregnant? How will he interact with my friends, etc....

Sometimes, when we lose a man or end a relationship these images never manifest into anything real so you are left wondering....

To the ex that just called me from the hospital room where the woman (who BTW he cheated on me with) is having a baby...I am no longer left wondering....

Ahhh I could be her 8 /