it’s the first of the month

i can hardly believe that a year of my life has already passed. it’s been the longest seeming year ever and the shortest seeming year at the same time. i dont know if that quite makes sense.

i think im going to resolve that my new year starts every year on june 1st.

i can say that the next year that passes will be one of great joy for me. i look forward to watching my daughter progress through her first year. each day with her is something new i cant believe that out of such a shitty experience in life a beautiful thing came about.

it’s so weird to think that just a year ago i was in a hotel room that i’d only gotten because it was the first of the month. the man at the time had run off on a thursday and had not called all weekend and i made it thru with food and places to stay thanks to two of my homeboys and a few sidejobs i pulled manuevering illegal shit around sacramento.

i sat in this hotel room and didnt even have the tears to cry about my situation. broke. homeless. jobless. boyfriend who knows where. hadnt ate for a few days beyond whatever my homies shared with me. and my nose ITCHED. fucking coke calling my name.

before scoring my mom and i talked and i told her things that had happened since my man had been released from jail. and my fucking fairytale dream i allowed him to sell me had long been gone.  i made plans to see her the next day and set the ball rolling to get the fuck away from sacramento for a while. just to see about some new opportunities or just to get away and relax and at least have a steady roof over my head.

the day i left. i left him high and dry. i dropped him off and cried the entire way to my mom’s house. tears could finally fall from my eyes at the experience id lived thru. i saw so much shit that i was just done with life. it was run or die inside and i knew that. i thought i loved him but i wanted to love me or at least try to love me.

id moved so many times in the last few years i dont even want to think about it.

i cant believe i have stayed in one place for an entire year. it’s nice not to have to run. to get away from whatever id left undone, unpaid or just fucked up.

in a year it’s amazing how you can gain back the value you feel for yourself. it’s amazing how running away for the last time can bring you back to yourself.

i like me now, hell i even love me. i dont need to quiet anything  that goes on in my head and i dont have evil cee in me telling me that im not good enough for the best anymore.

im headed back to sac for a visit in a week and im excited to see my friends but i will be happy as fuck that i dont live there anymore. im happy i ran.

hoes and housewives

before  i made the transition from a pale blonde flat chested, gapped toothed cute little girl into a young woman my sexuality was already compromised in a way that shaped it and still  shapes it today.

i hadn’t ever really thought about it. it’s one of those things that you dont know is wrong at a young age but you know you arent supposed to tell anyone about it either because no one is supposed to touch you or make you touch them on the bathing suit spots or see them except your mommy or the doctor.

the world of the internet is great for the reminders of what happened to come back and haunt you. albeit naked photos or videos or the person who assaulted you when you were between the ages of 7 and 10. it’s sick that this person comes back around and you feel those scared thoughts you used to when he would trap you in a room and make your hand touch him in his much older teenaged developed places and how sick it used to make you feel when they would snatch you into the bushes and rub their hands across your barely formed mosquito bite titties. it’s enough to make you mad when all they say is you were so cute then and all i remember is your blonde hair and cute little face, youre still cute now want to hang out? here’s my number.

and that sickening feeling hits you like a semi truck would a brick wall.

you dont respond because the only thing you feel is that feeling you felt when you were seven and confused and scared.

“so i guess you dont want to hang out. i’m a big boy i can handle the truth.”

you still dont respond because you realize this individual doesnt realize that you want to hurt him for the feelings you felt then and for the realization that what he did was VERY VERY wrong. and when you said no, it wasnt a silly game that two teens can play that yes means no. you were a young girl who had no fucking clue what much beyond playing with dolls and dress up was.

i know i am going in and out of you and i but all this is me. and just realizing this shit in the past few days is kind of scary. that i can repress shit like this for 20 years makes me sad. i know now why i might have acted out in the ways i have and why losing my virginity at the age of twelve really wasnt that big of a deal. i mean…maybe.

and all this has happened in the same week that i met someone and went out with them and this guy seems genuinely nice. but his wanting to know more about my child have me shook. and i shouldnt be because the guy just wants to know about her and is interested in my life. but here i am fearing every man who will come into contact with my beautiful daughter because i dont want to give up her naivete and innocence because of what some sick fuck did to me.

and i cant just keep my daughter all to myself and play me and baby isolated against the world because that’s even less healthy.

im sad at finding this piece of me that i lost twenty years ago. im sad that i couldnt find it when it happened and stop it then.  i was scared of upsetting things of losing the friend who’s brother it was. of feeling shame that wasnt mine to feel in the first place but has led me to devalue my own sexual self and degrade myself continually.

the man i thought i loved and wanted to be with for quite sometime told me flat out that he wouldnt ever be my man because i ‘knew’ too many people. basically cee you a hoe and i cant claim you as anything more than a hoe that im cool with and fuck on but secretly i tell you i love you and outwardly i show you how much i do care.

now, his loss for not taking me as i was. and fuck anyone who thinks that a hoe cant turn into a housewife because somewhere that hoe is just a little girl trying to make sense of things and claw and fuck herself out of shame and pain.

maybe this is a major step in my focusing on me. i have touched on a lot of things mentally that hurt over the past year and im finally in the right place to really start healing this scared little girl.

family

easter sunday. april twelth. last year on this day amari’s father was arrested on outstanding warrants in a routine traffic stop. it really wasnt routine though. we were on our way to his brothers house at 2am in need of a place to crash for the night because my car wasnt comfortable for the two of us to sleep in together and we were tired.  i was blurped for a tail light that was in need of replacing and him being black in the passenger seat made him suspect.

i cried my eyes out as he was taken from my car and put in the back of the patrol vehicle. i was scared. he was the one person i thought i could trust and my “rock.” we’d been homeless and hotel living for the past six days and i didnt know what i was going to do.

like every man does that gets locked up he promised he would change and he promised me the stars and the moon. and i promised to hold him down while he was in jail. i went to every court date and every chance i got to visit him. and ended up further in my depths of hell by the time he was released. i thought i loved him and i thought he was going to be all the family i needed for the rest of my life.

silly bitch was i.

trips to visit him. coke sold to fund him while in jail and keep him happy. money put on the phone so he could talk to me during his stay. i lost myself. and was left with nothing but promises to knock the shit out of me if i raised my voice. promises to leave me and go to his baby mama who was gonna gladly hold him down. and the scared little girl in me didnt realize that i had an out.  i had family and i had friends that would have been there.

i sold pieces of myself out. to keep him happy. and in return i lost.

its taken me til recently to not look in the mirror and hate the person i see. its taken my angel of a daughter to realize i could never sell myself short ever again.

today i sat at a table across from my childhood best friend. the same table we had dinners and homemade milkshakes at in middle school. in the same house where we cracked jokes and played with our makeup and hair. her mom and grandma held my child and i realized that im not supposed to be anywhere else in the world but where i am right now.

im happy that my nightmares have ended and that last years fears have turned back into dreams of my future and dreams that my daughter will have a best friend and childhood memories as sweet as mine.

one year later

i probably wont remember march 12th for the rest of my life…but i might.

i’d just gotten back in sac from being at my grandma’s with my mom helping my grandma deal with my grandpa’s passing.  my mom had actually said something about me going back to sac and her staying with my grandma for a few weeks and me helping my dad out around the house and taking care of lil brother. had that happened i guess march 12th never would have either.

and like those ‘choose your own adventure books’ so would the subsequent shit that happened happen.

he entered my life. he was charming. he was off-limits. he had a coke connect. he had a big dick. and he could fuck.

we were together everyday after that. (except the few weekends he ran off and left me high and dry) til i left his ass.

i feel like he and i were together for a very long time. but i guess when you deal with being homeless, dealing drugs, a jail term and drama everyfucking day LIFE SEEMS LONG and never ending.

i love my daughter so much. and im reminded of what a fucked up life i had before her everytime i look at her.

i think sometimes all the screaming and crying and the pain that i went thru during pregnancy and labor was my karmic payback for some of the really fucked up shit i did to people.

today a year ago, probably around this time, i was doing dirt. i chose the “how can i fuck things up more than they are” path, fucked things up. made quite a few enemies but found myself coming out better in the end.

im outta sacramento and wont ever be back except to visit. two middle fingers to a lot of dumb fucks in that town and if i had more hands id throw up more.

to the  bitch that still runs their mouth: you may think you’re flying high but what you dont realize is that you aint got wings and that free-fall feels the same as flying. you aint shit. get over me quit trying to run it about me and get clowned on more than you “try” to clown on me. or better yet come see me with that shit so i can laugh at you in person.

in less than three months i will have a YEAR clean of the nasty bitch coke. the drug that fucked my life up i have been away from and im so happy.  i still think about it. yeah. i dont think about it like i used to think about it.

people believe that god guides everything that happens in life and i have a hard time grasping that. i used to believe in god at one point in my life but now i know there is something more than me, i just feel i gave up my soul for a while and it hasnt fully been returned to me. like i gotta work extra hard or some shit.

im having a hard time with this “talk to baby” “sing to baby” “read to baby” shit. i dont infantalize things very well. i dont even talk to animals in a nice voice. i talk to kids like little adults and i cant sing songs i know to baby i just feel awkward. maybe it’s something moms go thru.

i am also realizing being a single mom is ROUGH. i get very little sleep and not a whole lot of breaks. though i am reaching out to the few people i know around me that can help me out. i cant take screaming all night long two weeks in a row. the baby doesnt make me mad, the lack of fucking sleep makes me mad. combine that with forgetting to eat and dealing with my grandma and im NUTS.

i am working on ways to release my anger and the gym has been a big help. something about riding on a bike and walk/running on the treadmill and then doing circuit training puts me in a much better mood. i go into the gym pissy and leave with a clearer mind and feeling like ahhhh.

im looking forward to spring and it not raining so damn much.

and that’s about all for now because im hungry and my lil frogger is going to wake up soon

my sweet valentine

my valentine showed up five days early.  miss amari valentina meqel was born february 9th, 2009 at 2.49 am.  she came out crying and ready for a bottle (lol a one ounce bottle at that and when she was finished with it she burped LOUD jus like her mama would.)

i know it’s hella cliche to be all “oh i fell in love instantly” but dammit i did.

finally she arrived, all my ways ive changed over the last nine months. all the dreams i have for her and myself. all i have done to make sure both of us have a better chance at being someone.  came. breathed and declared im here.

perfect, with ten fingers and ten toes. chunky lil legs and arms. bright pink skin. and instantly soothed when the doctor placed her in my arms.

i have all these plans in what i want to accomplish by the time im thirty (just a little under three years from now, yikes!)  and im going to but these first six months of her life everything is going to be just about her and if i can afford them a few online classes.  not many moms get the opportunity to spend everyday with their baby like i have.

i am blessed to have a family that still deals with me after all the fucked up things i have done towards them. my step-dad, well my dad really, told me on the last night he, my mom and youngest brother were up here that he was so proud of me (ive never heard that shit) for changing my life and for taking responsibility and how he knew that i was going to be a good mom  and what a good job he saw me doing already. he also said that he would be there to help amari and i financially (not take care of everything but if i was short on school money or needed help)

i bitch a lot about being annoyed and i am. it’s hard to live with your grandma at 27. it’s a big friggin adjustment. but i dont pay rent. i have heat (i didnt in my last place) i have lived in the same place for almost nine months which i havent done in a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time.  i still have most of my stuff in boxes because im so used to having to move that im just burnt out on unpacking.

anyways. my daughter is here. valentine’s day we spent cuddled up sleeping every chance we got and just being happy.  i really truly am happy for once in my life.

chicken kiev, mushroom risotto and green beans

in the kitchen with cee #2

my chicken kiev

shit you need:

• chicken breasts
• cream cheese
• bread crumbs
• artichoke hearts
• minced garlic
• proscuitto
• salt/pepper/seasoning you like
• tinfoil

1. soften cream cheese (easiest way is the microwave)
2. chop up artichoke hearts put in the cream cheese bowl
3. spoonful of minced garlic
4. mix it all together
5. if your chicken breasts are hella fat cut them into thinner pieces
6. place chicken breast on a piece of foil that will accommodate rolling it up and tucking in the ends like a packet
7. take a piece of prosciutto and lay it on the chicken breast
8. spoon the cream cheese mix ontop of the prosciutto
9. roll the chicken
10. wrap the chicken in tinfoil

you should have your oven pre-heated to 325-350-375 whatever and put your chicken tinfoils on a cookie sheet or some kind of oven safe dish. bake for 30-40 minutes

you could get fancy and dip the chicken in egg and breadcrumbs but i wasnt feeling that enthusiastic after standing on my feet.

mushroom risotto

• package of risotto
• chicken stock
• package of sliced mushrooms
• 3 or 4 celery shoots
• garlic
• onion yellow
• butter
• olive oil
• cream of mushroom soup

1. dice the onions and celery
2. place in a large saute pan with garlic, olive oil and sliced mushrooms package
3. allow the stuff to cook down and brown
4. add a quarter stick of butter
5. add the risotto
6. add chicken stock
7. follow the direction on packet of risotto for the needed time and chicken stock or water you need to successfully cook it
8. add in cream of mushroom soup can
9. place it in casserole dish tinfoil over the top place in same oven as chickens just to brown up a little bit

green beans

• fresh green beans
• onion
• olive oil
• red wine vinegar
• salt/pepper/spices you like
• sliced almonds

1. cut the ends off both sides of the green beans
2. put in saute pan with sliced onion, olive oil, red wine vinegar and seasonings
3. cook on low with a lid on top of the pan
4. add sliced almonds as garnish

ENJOY

daddy complex

“if you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.” –abraham sutzkever (per my lil motivational calendar my eight year old brother got me)

it’s funny, i looked at this quote on my calendar on today’s page right before leaving to go to my counseling session. and somehow i knew the topic of my childhood was going to be discussed today.

and it’s ironic because i have been thinking about how my childhood has shaped me into the person i am today. and how i still at twenty seven feel like im treated like a child by most of my family.

and maybe a lot of that is my fault. i mean i act out like a angry toddler instead of addressing situations in an adult like manner i throw a fit and pout til i get my way. i learned that shit early on and well if it aint broke…dont fix it right? wrong. it makes those around me respond and coddle me like a child when im trying to “grow up” and take more responsibilities.

my counselor and i have decided that due to some of the neglectful ways i was treated while at a very young age i have this “issue” with needing to fill some void in me with a daddy. that man who can take care of me or the one who SAYS he is there to take care of me and ends up being abusive, sexually, mentally and/or physically. and i let this shit happen because the little girl in me doesnt realize that on my own im stronger than when i feel i need to be “taken care of.”

sitting in the waiting room for my OB appointment last week i struggled back tears of anger and hurt because i was the only person in there at the time without a partner and i was angry that i “wasnt good enough” to be able to have a partner too. i “wasnt good enough” to keep a man around. ummm, that’s fucked up because my little girl voice was “you need a man to do this and it’s your fault he’s not around.” even though the grown up me knows idda unloaded a clip in his irresponsible no good ass and it’s him that’s not good enough to be with me.

so somehow, someway im focusing on quieting this little girl in me and nurturing her into a grown   woman with grown woman ideations. i think that nurturing my own little girl and giving her a sense of value that doesnt NEED to include just any dude that says he loves me and will take care of me will help in this project me.

annoyed. imagine that.

i think the only time i can manage to force together sentences is when im angry, sad, tired, annoyed or just arrgh. and i swear i am happy sometimes. just not all the time. i mean im not unhappy i just really want my own life.

family is great. yes. there is no denying that fact. infact i dont really know where the fuck id be right now if i didnt have my family. probably a womens homeless shelter in sac wondering where the fuck imma go when my baby is born. i dont think i coulda kept up with the life i was living. hell i can barely keep up with going to a few stores and then grocery shopping right now. its depressing to just think about right now.  but while my family is great. they get on my gatdamned nerves sometimes. i know i post a lot of personal shit for people to see but i dont want all my grandmas friends to know every fucking thing about me. NOR do i want distant twice removed via divorce cousins of so and so to know what i ate yesterday by way of my grandma. (i mean it aint that bad but shit, cant we just say she’s good, she’s having a girl and be done with it?)

i understand that people want me to get my life back in the right direction and want nothing more than to see me succeed but im also a grown ass woman and the thought of turning twenty eight (in a year) and still living with my grandma is fucking depressing. and yet she gets all sad when i say once i have this baby and get a job and my name comes up on the housing list i want to live on my own. is it so hard to understand that struggling sucks but its also a part of adulthood. i want my own identity back. i mean i want my own freedom to not have to say nothin to no one for a whole day if i dont want to. i dont want someone to know what i eat (and comment on how i should watch it or i will gain too much weight) or think i drink one too many beers (im not drinking right now but once this baby comes….beer and i have some flames to rekindle)

and really what the hell do i care if your friends want to see my child a few weeks after she is born. i was always taught you see with your EYES not with your HANDS. i dont want people putting their germy paws on my baby. i dont want the little old lady crew holding and pawing my baby til she is at least four months old. really i just dont want people around her. she’s mine dammit.

im so tired of hearing what a sweet little baby im going to have. you dont know that and while im not wishing for devil spawn im fucking tired of gatdamned always positivity. i mean damn i want a happy baby i will do everything in my power to have a happy baby. BUT THIS IS MY BABY and while suggestions on what i should do are great imma leave em at just that. suggestions.

so many times i think my family members forget that i am an adult. i have survived thru shit they dont even begin to know anything about. and yet im still treated like i dont know how to make things work.

i dont know. i just feel trapped sometimes. not the same kind of trapped that i felt like last year at this time but trapped none the less.

maybe thats what life feels like…

accidentals

man, all i have heard this week is:

everything happens like it’s supposed to.

well you know what im fucking tired of everything shitty happening to me like its supposed to. and yeah im probably being overly dramatic right now and i know that not everything that could possibly go wrong, does.

but…come on.

cant i just have a peaceful life? i mean i go out the house to grab some mcdonalds and get my l’s straight in this state, i yield to the fucking ambulance and fire truck like a good driver is supposed to and the next thing i know my car is SMASHED by a seventeen year old driver in a jeep from 1987. fortunately she had insurance and it seems like really good insurance because they are taking care of me with the rental and being overly nice to me right now. but im NOT going to get my car back. and i hurt like a muthafucka and cant take a damn thing but tylenol for it. WOO FUCKIN HOO. giving tylenol to an ex pain med and narcotic junkie is like throwing a hotdog down a hall way. aint feelin shit.

and everytime i see my car, i a. cry or b. want to punch something shit is smashed.

then to top everything off, im lonely for intimacy and not just doin the deed. but i want someone who looks at me and just smiles for no reason. i know it should be the last thing i really care about but i want someone and at this point in life i dont think ill ever have anything more than the fantasy of having that. of course im smart and know that i have no business opening my emotional baggages and letting anything else in right now.

but damn, sometimes i wish i wasnt alone in this being pregnant thing. i know my family is excited about me being pregnant and my child. but im so jealous of people who get to go through it together. each time ive been pregnant ive been solo. i know i chose to be alone this time. but my other option was being with the father who is a fucking idiot. and being solo is better than being with him. but i just wish i could have the opportunity to be in real love and experience something as beautiful as this with that person.

i dont think i will ever know that. i think in order to assure i dont fuck up again and have another kid im opting for sterilization. though at this point in my life im not sure if just signing up for a life of celibacy from here on out wouldnt be an option.  not having sex for over six months is a serious mind fuck. and really i doubt ill have any anytime soon. there isnt anyone that i want that i could be with. so fuck it.

maybe im fucked up more than i should be right now because im in pain and im tired and im just ARRGH so angry at things right now.

i just want things to work how i want them to work.

CANT I GET WHAT I WANT?

there is light

last week my bestfriend, Tofu De La Moore, http://www.tofu916.com  and I were chatting over instant messages about the state of our lives and our minds. I will go into my mindstates and how i feel but i wont divulge his side of shit because it aint my business to put out.

And for once I can say that im working towards happy. i havent been a happy person for a long time. and finally i am starting to feel alive again. without an anti-depressant, an anti-psychotic, a muscle relaxer, an opiate, an amphetamine, a drink or in my case the entire bottle and then some. i have focus and im working on goals.

i told him that six months ago i didnt care if i died and actually most the time wish i had died or wound up dead or that someone would just kill me and put me out of my misery. the misery that i saw no way out of.

the last week in january 08, i wrote a letter and had intended on ending my life. but my method didnt work. infact it was a dumb ass idea. i had access to a gun if id really needed to die thats what i should have used.  but i didnt.

ten months later here in the first few weeks of october 08 i see more than just a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel.

my mom says my changes in attitude and changes in actually doing positive shit for myself  is its because i have something besides my selfish self to live for now. and i know thats whats motivated me in the beginning.

i dont ever want to be homeless and scared and hungry. i dont ever want to beg my mom to help me and be told that i needed to grow up because hadnt i just told her that i was 26 and at 26 i can make my own choices?

but i dont ever want to feel as low as i felt the last week in may 08. EVER again. i really felt i was worthless and that i wasnt ever going to be anything or do anything better than be a hustlin bitch. a fucking runner. living minute to minute. bossed around by an idiot who cant even control his own life.

i want the rest of my life to be lived for what makes me a stronger person. i will never be weak (oh i will be weak again) but i dont want it to break me.

i can see that my attraction to the “bad boy” was another way that i subconciously let myself continue to get fucked over. a “bad boy” looks out for himself. not for us.  not gonna say i dont want a man with the ability to act up when necessary but thanks i will take the man with goals (beyond a fucking car and an album deal thats miraculously going to solve all the problems in the world, uh yeah right)

i let myself get sucked into things too quick and too fast and it sucks the flame out of any light.

flames grow stronger with continuous oxygen NOT a big gust of wind.

so i will continue on the extremely long path i seemed to have laid out before myself and work towards each goal. and one day i can look back and the bad things will be more distant than the “light”