Yay Mom!!

It's my favorite time of the year again!! California time. In less than 48 hours I'll be back in Cali with my family, friends and my baby-poo Valentine. I can't wait to hug my mom and sis and kiss my Grams.

And that's really all I have to say. ♥

(©2009 Lotus B.)

While My Ink is Still Wet...

Excuse me while I cut to the break down....

I've never been touched that way. Until he ran his fingers across my keys placing mislaid periods and commas, so we could feel the breaths. And pauses. I don't remember ever feeling so warm from the creation of a sentence.

He penetrated me, pulled me closer, penetrated me, pulled me closer, penetrated me.

We created a time capsule where I was a child and he was a child and we could step inside of it's chamber and look around and smell the air and taste the water. Even though it was choked by my apprehension, even though it was brief and left me wanting more but scared to touch it again; it was the best sex I've ever had.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Vacuuming My Dirty Carpet...

Today my superpower is CLEAN SWEEPER!! I have the ability to handle un-finished business...clip loose ends...severe dangling ties.

I 've been holding back some choice words for a few choice people and today in one fell swoop I dispensed with the courtesies and let loose on every one's ignorant ass.

HOLY GOOD INTENTIONS, CLEAN SWEEPER!!!

I kindly told my fat, bacon-hoarding, old room mate that....well she is a fat bacon-hoarding little room mate. I told the other old room mate that not only is she lacking self confidence but she's the biggest poser I've met since high school and she should get used to the reality that she's also excruciatingly boring and useless as a woman and human being. I even told my ex-best friend that her lack of keeping-in-touch ability is no longer cute and that she should grow up and learn to write down a phone number like a big girl.

YES...no one is exempt from my lightning-bolt zingers. PIKAHH!!! Run you, tiny imbecilic minions!!!! I vanish you from my Blackberry and here after from my life.....

Who wants next?

Between a Rock and Hard Place

So it's Wednesday and yes, I'm back in Houston. For now. The sun is beating down on me as if it has some kind of vendetta, and again...the silence is killing me. My first day back in NY I walked around Manhattan near 34th street where my old job was. I wanted to smack myself for getting down there so late, too late to go up and say hi to anyone. But I went into the stores and into my old Starbucks. My favorite Batista wasn't there, but it still felt good to ask for my "grande triple soy latte". The noise, the cabby that screamed at me because Atlantic avenue was closed (and apparently this was my fault).

The drunk guys at Toastie's who kept asking to bum one of my American Spirits (yes I smoke occasionally in NY...fuck off), the women in their awesome outfits, the metro-sexual men with gorgeous accents and leather scuffed boots leaning casually against train poles reading books no one has ever heard of. The drop dead gorgeous Black British man sitting across from me on the Q who asked me about the tattoo on my foot then showed me his (boy did he). Then he pulled back his dirty bandanna revealing a head of lustrous brown hair that fell around his shoulders. I would have thrown my vagina at him, if not for his next comment, "I just got done doing my community service..." I didn't hear the rest...I decided not to involve myself with one of Riker Island's newest "graduates".

The trip was fabulous, the shopping divine, but more than anything, I was swimming in my own peace of mind. Waking up with the city at my fingertips, being around millions of people who generally take life in stride. People who don't have to "live for the weekend", people who take pride in taking pride. So it was definitely a vacation in every sense of the word.

Now that I'm back it feels like I've been sucking on a sugar cube for 6 days and now have to eat an onion. Not that it's awful here, but it just made me realize how much of myself is...not here. When I got in on Monday I looked around the house. Pictures had been moved, the couch was scooted closer to the TV. Things that represented D's lifestyle. Minor, I know, but when your walking into a house that is not yours, in a neighborhood that has no personality in a city that you have nothing in common with...little things like that tend to make you grip your arms, rub the back of your neck and submit yourself to tears. I was just thankful to be alone at the moment.

Neither Here Nor There (Sunday's Reflections...

What do you do when you have no idea, anymore, of where you belong? Not just mentally, but physically...geographically. How do you figure that out? Keep searching? Go back to the beginning? Give in?

I know that's an intense idea. A little deep for a Sunday. Or maybe not. This is the day of reflection, no? Everyone does their unwindings on Sunday, so I did a few. I guess when I really think about it, I don't know much about where I belong. The only insight I have is that I know where I don't belong. I don't belong somewhere quiet. I don't belong somewhere apprehensive or passive. I don't belong anywhere that bares more clouds than sun. Take that how you will.

I miss my family. I will admit to that. There has been something pulling at me to go back.

And if You Threw a Party....

My friends are awesome...

Goin Back to Cali

Now that Houston has begun to settle into my bones a bit more, it's time to take a trip back home. This will be my first trip home in longer than I care to think about. My best friend Theresa put the phone to my God son Tashawn's mouth and I heard him yell out, "I lub uuuuu!!!!" It was enough to make this girl spring to the computer and look up ticket prices. Just to see his little cheeky face is enough to make me pay full price.

Not only is it Shawnie's birthday but it's about time I saw a few other people. Namely my grandmother. So once again I'll be packing my things and jetting out, this time to West coast. I miss California like I miss good R&B music.

Also, I'll probably be stopping in San Francisco to hit up H&M, juuuuuuust to see whats goin on.

Put Up a Parking Lot....

Well today was a new adventure in many ways. I sat in D's Acura trying to escape the concrete jungle that was the Super Target parking lot. I simply went to get lemons and Fettuccine for the fabulous meal I was going to cook for my boyfriend...and ended up crying all over his leather steering wheel. I called Tia, "I'm lost in a concrete maze and the evil puppeteer is Target..!" I exclaimed. She laughed and we talked for about an hour, catching up and chatting away the commute back to the house.

By the time we got off the phone I was almost to D's job. He got in the car, kissed me hello and we drive back to the house engaging in the friendly but snide banter that is our chemical romance.

Now the house is quiet, except for (of course) the sounds of Law & Order SVU, a faint reminder of the city I love. D is upstairs in the shower and the rest of the night and weekend lay before us like an inflatable slip and slide.

I got lost in a supermarket parking lot today, cried into my favorite sweater and found refuge in a good friend. It all resulted in shrimp fettuccine and white wine, so well worth the mission.

Houston, I shall conquer thee.

Goodbye Lover, Goodbye New York

D was cold. Freezing in fact as we stood at the bus stop waiting for the B46. It was Thursday, move day and count down to out flight out. We had a list of things to do; pick up the van, drop the boxes off at the Post Office, drop the bed and dresser at Etienne's and the rest at Salvation Army. In the moment of silence, I took a second to look around. Atlantic ave, where I got my first bunch of groceries with the room mate from hell. Brooklyn was looking a lot like it did when I first met her, cold, windy but deceivingly sunny. I secretly wished the day would drift by slowly, as D prayed for a heat-wave.

Saying goodbye to New York was like saying goodbye to a forbidden lover...it was quiet and very private. I took in the buildings and the streets and even the smells I used to despise. I even closed my eyes and breathed in the same winter winds that once stung my nostrils. It was like a friendly hug that I wished could last longer.

Friday, Tia and her boyfriend Anthony came out with D and I. We started our night at Black Betty's in Williamsburg, where I proudly stuck to my vegetarian resolution and ordered the shrimp and cous cous. As we all sat drinking and laughing I took mental pictures of the four of us, saying goodbyes and hellos and generally making memories I'd sit back and recall in days to come.

Later that night, something I never expected happened. Tia and I had a moment of sentimental indulgence. We cried and said the girly things girls say when they're sad to see a friend go. She told me the things I needed to hear, the things only a friend like Tia could say knowing that I needed to hear them. I'll be forever grateful to her for telling me what she did, and it sealed the friendship for me; she will always be in my life.

The next morning, D and I woke up and shuffled around trying to wrap up the things we'd left for the last moment. I kept reminding him that we were almost there. Almost to the post office (long story), almost to the airport, almost through security, almost set to board. I closed my eyes for a second before the plane took off, then I did what Tia said I should do. I left everything unresolved, everything lingering on the air strip just as gravity left us. I looked over at D, who was now fast asleep and leaning on my shoulder, and everything made sense.

I hate to be sentimental but the truth of it is, I'll miss the hell out of New York. The times we had, the amazing summer and the friendships that will never be duplicated. I know less and less thoughts of the city will enter my mind, and slowly I'll unmemorize the entire MTA subway map and forget the names of the streets that surround Carroll and Eastern Parkway. I also know I left at the right time.

They say if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. I'm ready to test that theory out on the next phase in my life. Houston, home ownership, and being D's better half.

And I'll always have New York.

Bird's Eye View

I heard an old friend of mine passed away suddenly yesterday. Again I was reminded of how frustratingly precious life is. How nothing is really ever promised. I was sitting on my flight home through the turbulence wondering if my plane would drop out of the sky on Sunday night; my palms getting clammy as they gripped my trey table. For a second I convinced myself that if and when it was my time to go I would calmly accept it. So yesterday I wondered if Destiny accepted it, if she even had time to and if she ever imagined she'd be leaving this world at 30. I've lost quite a few people in the past year, and every time I tend to wonder if I'll leave this world the same why I came into it...kicking and screaming.

So, to Destiny Castro, who had a contagious chuckle and the most gorgeous hair ever, rest in peace. My thoughts and prayers are with her family and her two babies.

4 More Days!!!!

In 4 days I'll be surrounded again by those I love the most!

♥

Coming, Going and Things in Between...

The above photo was taken about a week before I left California for New York. I was getting a drink with my friend George, and in complete denial of what I was about to do. I nonchalantly told friends from work that it was simply a time for change and everyone was impressed with my casual demeanor. I was waiting for George to bring me a second (or third) martini, because as you all can see, I had just polished one off. I remember for that second when he left to walk across that large scape of that scroungy, trendy, over priced bar in San Francisco; I was alone and in silence for a moment. I took it all in and whispered to myself..."better get used to it, trooper."

...but I haven't really been alone.

♥My 200th Post!!♥

^My First Week in Brooklyn.

I started this blog about 5 months before moving to New York on my Myspace blog. It wasn't called "I Say Hella" back then, it was just called...like "Blog" or something un-fabulous. At first, aside from my close friends and family, the only person who read it regularly was my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend who was totally obsessed with me because she was convinced he (the ex) was still in love...drama.

So I chronicled the adventure before the adventure...leaving California. Saying goodbye to friends and family...looking for an apartment in Brooklyn with Molly. The mess of emotions that stuck to the walls of the apartment I shared with D during our "technically broken up but still in love but living together" phase.

I guess the real reason I started this blog on blogspot, was because I was so far away from home. Far away from family and every friend I'd ever made. I was in a new world that I had to figure out day by day on my own and no one was around to share that with. So I did what I do best. I wrote about it.

I never started this to gain attention (not that it HAS or anything) I just wanted for my friends and family to get a peek into what I was experiancing and how I was doing. Along the way, I've received emails from perfect strangers who tell me that something I've written has made them think differently about themselves, or about life or love and that's a pretty awesome compliment. I've even had someone ask me how I got up the guts to up and leave California.

"Guts..." I said, "...don't wait for guts...leaving scared shitless is the best way to leave. Find the guts when you really need them."

I know I'll be going home soon. I know New York will always be some kind of strange dream with the taboo of a love affair; just dirty enough to feel wrong and clean enough to feel new. I'm glad I came, glad I'm here and I'm glad I'll be leaving one day.

Thanks to all those who read & comment, I'm glad you get a kick outta my life.

♥

Paper Made of People

I think I was one of those kids who always had to be challenged. When the room got quiet, and my mother's crumbling attempts to entertain me finally tired, I would bounce around the living room on my tippy toes and ask a thousand questions.

So I grew up to become the kind of woman who asks a thousand questions and thirsts for something else to tire me. Every time I press myself, I've been able to rise to the occasion. Walking out, showing up, flying away and coming back are four of the most important things I've ever done in my life. And each step brought me to my knees in ways I couldn't contemplate surviving. But after being broken down, then jumping with my eyes closed shut, and holding my breath while the bubbles surfaced I always seemed to find my air. To the point where I almost look forward to drowning a little bit.

ON A TOTALLY UNRELATED TOPIC

These days, loneliness has taken on a new meaning. It's not like I don't have any friends. I'm either at work or chillin with Tia (and her new man, we'll call him "Ant") or Etienne or my room mate Monica. Throw in a second gig, and the occasional show or lounge and I have to admit there are very few moments of boredom. Plus it takes little to amuse me these days...

...But by "loneliness" I mean missing familiarity. New York is familiar to me, but in a different way. In a way that speaks to my new skin, and not to my long term memory. I was on the train the other night coming home from Manhattan; watching one of the back cars on the 4 train empty with every stop that passed. It was just me and this sleepy old guy for a while. He was thin with tissue paper skin and dusty faded eyes. His khaki fisherman hat reminded me of my great grandfather Henry, whom I barely knew and don't quite recall if he ever even wore that kind of hat. For a second we shared several passing glances; the kind you exchange when your trying to observe someone without letting them on that your paying attention. I was in the middle of wondering how old he was, when he held my glance long enough to expose a weepy smile that then faded slowly back into a firmly held line. It was just a second, but in that second I realized my mother was right; people don't smile as much in New York, at least not to strangers. But when the old dude smiled at me (or strangely...laitly...when anyone does) I was half filled with warmth and half with sadness. That which is familiar to me is miles away. Many, many miles away. The stretch of shops near Merit Lake in Oakland, the hills you pass on the drive up to Sacramento that my sister and I always used to think were really dinosaurs hidden under blankets of wild white-brown grass...

...When an old man who smiles at you on the train almost brings you to tears, you know it's time for some familiarity.

Hello November...

Being so far away from "home" always feels worse when things get a little crumby. Like when some loser fuck-tard steals your debit card info and decides for go on a $27 shopping spree. I'm sure my cell phone bill money went MILES for those Nazi bastards (anyone rude is a Nazi, that's just how I see the world). It just feels more like a Monday when my family is all the way in California and my sweetie is all the way in Houston.

My room mate Monica and I are planning to have our own little sad version of Thanksgiving this month. With the prices of airfare shooting through the roof and neither of our families being "holiday-people", we have opted to save our money and make a feast of our own. We'll probably make some concoction from my favorite Caribbean cookbook, and have a big bottle of wine. We'll sit on pillows on the floor and listen to Shiny Toy Guns before heading out on the town. It will definitely mark my most unorthodox Thanksgiving I've ever had, but none the less it will be memorable I'm sure.

With my next visit to D a do-able 18 days away and the historical election in less than 24 hours, there is much to look forward to. In the mean time, I'm grateful that hot coffee is available to keep my frosty fingers company. I look forward to the leaves in New York continuing to amaze me with their slow transformation into golden brown and sappy red. I look forward to the snow that will surely come, and to it's tight encumbered crunching under my feet. And for the things to come after the new year.

Halloweeeeeeeen 2008!

My first holiday in NYC, and it wasn't all bad.
But why blog when you can upload photos.....

More to come soon!

When Two Awesome Bitches Collide

Coupling

My friend Tia and I met after work to search for cloves, a small and rare obsession we have in common. We traipsed through the wind and rain up to 42nd street to a cigar shop just a block from the Lincoln Building. After that, despite the rain, we trekked on and detoured to Union Square stopping at a Cuban spot called Havana Central (YUM). We sat at a small table near the kitchen sipping Mango Mojitos and taking turns going on and on about our glorious men. D and I, the old pros I guess, after being in a relationship for 3 years even with a 5 month detour, not much tends to shake us anymore. Tia and her brand new baby-relationship still timid and full of newness. Just like that, something settled over the table, and I think it was more than just a mojito-and-sweet potato french fries-food coma.

We talked about love. The different kinds and the differences between them. How you can truly love someone, with all your heart and for some reason or another have to leave them behind. How real love, the kind that stays even after there's nothing new to talk about, always seems to gently simmer instead of boil. I think every woman wants to be swept of her feet. For some romantic idea to come along with flowers and say all the right things and know exactly how to treat her. The only thing is, that never seems to exist. Love is exactly what you make of it. If it's hurried it will be flustered, if it's passionate it will be dramatic, if it is dangerous it will be painful and if it's patient it will be long lasting. I've always been something of a thermometer, unable to hide how I feel at all, wearing my emotions on my sleeve, or so I'm told. The man who keeps me has to love a firecracker, and expect nothing less than to be loved deeply and daily. My heart is definitely in Houston.

Vintage Me

Looking through some old files, came across some old pictures.

My mother and I the first week in me and D's first place together in Hayward, CA >>>>>>>>>>>>>

(left & below) My 24th B-Day dinner in San Francisco w/ friends and fam.

<D and me on one of our first trips to visit his family in Los Angeles. Also, the rental car from hell, never buy a Saturn, even if you think their cute now.

>>>

MAJOR THROWBACK!!

This is my ex-boyfriend (and still good friend), Noah the summer we stopped being annoying neighbors and had a budding summer romance.

^^^^^^

Vintage Me- (2001) The day after Jr. Prom. In front on my cousin Atya's house. You couldn't tell me SHIT back then. I was 17, the ONLY year of my life that I was boyfriend-less. A few months before I got my first place and "adult" life began.

I Gotta Get Out of My Head- I've Lived Here For Too Long

I'm pulling myself out of this disgustingly over-ridden rut I've been in once and for all. I booked my plane ticket to go see D last night, and requested my time off to be with him for Christmas. I have so much to look forward to, that it's making me turn into a little blob of goo. Just waiting for time to pass, the faster the better. But instead of living IN tomorrow instead of FOR tomorrow, it's time I just plain snapped out of it. There are TAGS in my closet. TAGS!!! Unworn clothes, UN-ROCKED outfits beckoning for me to grab them, do something fun with my insanely short hair, rock some Vegas eyeshadow and hit the streets with my partner in crime. Well, break out the hot pink nail polish, cause I'm gonna shake my ass tonight. I plan on throwing back more than a few shots and then booking it home no earlier than 1am. The destination at large is the NJV (Not Just Vintage) fashion event tonight honoring the black men of Brooklyn. I have no idea why they are honoring them, other than the fact that, yes, Brooklyn has some of the most disgustingly hot black men I've ever encountered, but I'm always up for a fashion event. Keep an eye out on FUXfashion for the details, and the pics.