Day 30: One Last Moment

I can't really think of any more "moments" that are worth sharing, but instead I think I'll instead focus on this blog challenge and what it's meant to me. I had to really think about myself and in some instances I purposely glossed over issues for not wanting to delve into them. This has helped me to explore myself and think a little deeper. Toward the end I wasn't able to focus on this every day the way that I should have, but I enjoyed it the same. Thanks for reading!

Day 29: My Aspirations

Being as preoccupied with death as I am, I often focus and reflect on my life. Honestly, almost daily I imagine that if I died at that moment in time, how would people remember me? Who would be the most upset at my funeral? Would my services be crashed by people that know they have no business being there? How would Pookie react? How would my sisters and my mother react? Would people that have fucked me over feel guilty?

Sorry, I got on a bit of a tangent there. Anyway, being that I focus on my death, I like to focus on my life as well. When I think about my life, I think about where and how I want it to go. I aspire to one day be able to help others through the media. I hope to become an Oprah or Michael Baisden type of character. One of my next major projects is to write a book teaching life skills to teens. Wish me luck.

Day 28: Something I Miss

I miss my cat Hewi so much. I miss how we'd fight. I miss how he'd sit on my clothes. I miss how he understood me. I miss how fat he was. I miss his white fur. I miss hearing him meow. Sometimes I want to get another cat, but I know that the cat will never be like Hewi. Hewi was one of my very best friends. I miss my cat. :(

Day 27: My Favorite Place

I've got a few favorite places. One of my first is Felini's Pizza. I swear they have the best pizza on the planet. I like to sit on the patio when the weather allows. They've got 4 or 5 locations, but my favorite is the one on Ponce de Leon. Pookie and I had dinner there the other night. He started to look at me kinda weird. I asked what was up. He said that I was having a "pretty moment." He's so sweet.
My other is Centennial Park. I've spent a lot of time there. It's supposed to close at 11 p.m., but on some nights I go there even later and walk around. I think that Centennial is probably my very favorite place. Nothing means more to me than being there. I don't go as often as I'd like to, but I always have a good time when I do.
And then of course there is the wonderful MJQ Course. There isn't enough room for me to write about the many nights of fun I've had there, but here's a reminder here. Those are my favorite places.

Day 26: My Fears

On the surface, my fears are mushrooms, butterflies, and moths. Those things are so freaking creepy.
But on the deeper level, my fear is being the kind of mother that I had. I tell my son all of the time how great he is. I tell him that I love him. I tell him that he can be anything he wants. I want my son to know that his mom will always love him. Because I never got those things from my mom. I fear giving my son the same sad childhood that I had.

Day 25: A First

It took a minute to decide what my first would be, but I decided to talk about the first time Pookie and I kissed. We were at Piedmont Park and we'd stopped by the lake to talk. It was our first date. We held hands. It was like I'd known him forever. I knew then that he possessed something that held me. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. And then we kissed on the lips. It was so magical. My heart skipped a beat. I knew then that he'd be special to me. That happened on August 5, 2006. That was the first time Pookie and I kissed. And thank goodness that it wasn't the last.

Day 24: Something That Makes Me Cry

I blogged a while ago about my cousin's death over 10 years ago. It still haunts me. I still blame myself. I wrote about it here. If I think about things too long, I tear up. I doesn't matter where I am or what's going on. I miss her so much.

Day 23: Something That Makes Me Feel Better

What always makes me feel better is my son. Pumpkin has a way of brightening my day, no matter what. I remember one time when I was upset. My son walked up to me and said "are you awright?" and it brightened my day. My baby cares so much about me. I'm lucky. No, I'm blessed.

Day 22: Something That Upsets Me

*Okay, I know I haven't posted for the last two days, but stuff has been crazy so don't judge me*

There were a few obvious things that came to mind on this one, but I thought I'd go with something else that I'd never really talked about on here before. I pride myself on being a good, if not a great friend. I have woken up in the middle of the night to comfort homegirls through heartbreaks and I've supported many a man during his worst hour. I really am that down ass chick that dudes ask for.


So what pissed me the fuck off is when I go out of my way to help somebody and then they turn around and act like I haven't done anything for them. Don't get me wrong, most of the friends I have recognize my sacrifices for them and we're cool. But there have been numerous people that have shafted me in the past and then they get upset when I give them the middle finger and can't figure out why I won't humor them. So there you have it. That's one of the few things that upsets me. Fair weather friends that only come around when things are good or when they can benefit from it.

Day 21: Another Moment

This is another one that took a moment for me to decide on. I wanted to talk about a moment that stuck in my head that I'd recognized the greatness of as it happened. I decided to write about when I'd seen my crush (at the time) Kelsy Davis in Los Angeles.

The first time I'd seen him I knew he was someone I wanted to get next to. Over the next year I'd seen in him so many venues in Atlanta. I bought new outfits and got my hair and nails done and made it a priority to be where ever I knew he would be. I would comb posters in Little Five Points (an area that I consider my stomping grounds) to see when he'd perform again. He and I slowly became friends as he came to recognize me at nearly all of his shows. At that point, I'd say that I'd seen him at least 8 times in concert and even managed to run into him a few times around town. Every time I ran into him I panicked. He's always had that impact on me. That feeling of trying extremely hard not to do or say anything too stupid and even if I did, he always made me feel okay regardless.

I realized that I hadn't seen him in a while so I dropped him an email to see how he'd been. He sent an email back, saying he had moved to LA. I knew what I had to do. I bought my ticket a week later. I sent Kelsy an email letting him know that I'd be in his area. I waited to hear back but nothing. The time came, and I flew out. While there I still hadn't heard from him. I shrugged my shoulders, just glad to be on the other side of the country. Cali was pretty awesome. While there I checked my email. There was one from him, it was a flier, saying he was having a concert that night. WOOHOO!! I was staying with my sister in San Diego, which is two hours away, but I drove there. I listened to "Love" by Keisha Cole the whole way there. I was so nervous. I'd Mapquested the directions. It was in Hollywood.

I got there and waited. He was there. I wanted to say something to him, but I figured he'd think I was a goddamned nut. Eventually he looked up. Then he said "I know that isn't who I think it is" and smiled at me. He later told me that he'd been a bit homesick and seeing me helped him feel a bit better. I remembered watching him set up. When his show began, I knew to myself that I'd have to soak the whole moment in. The magic of being in Los Angeles with a guy that I'd been lusting after for forever, as he sang his heart out. I felt frozen in time I remembered the songs he sang and the fluttering in my heart as I heard him and watched him perform. He went on to do an awesome show that night. After his performance, he told me that he didn't know that I was coming. I asked him if he'd gotten my email. He told me he hadn't and that he'd only sent out the flier as an email blast. I guess it's funny how fate works like that because if he'd have done that a week later (or even 2 days later), I'd have missed him. He isn't one for pictures, but he took one with me that night. I actually framed that pic once I got home.

That moment was so small, but it always stuck with me. I loved how Kelsy appreciated me being there. We eventually just became homies, but he's always had a way of making me feel like the only woman in the room. He's Kelsy Davis. And he helped me create a moment.

Day 20: This Month

Like I've said before, it's a trip how the timing of these comes about. This has been a pretty interesting month, to say the least. And by month, I'm assuming they mean this month, which is September. I'll start with the stress I was feeling from the restraining order. But as I'd said before, it was granted. The funny thing is that it actually reunited me with my friend Sky. I hadn't seen him in a while, but I ran into him one day and told him I needed him to come to court with me and he was there. So on top of getting rid of the person that's been on my damned nerves for the last four years, it reunited me with a good friend. After court he and I also got to hang out for a while with our friend Murph.

There was also House in the Park, which is a huge event to many of the club heads that I roll with. We had a lot of fun embracing and recalling old times. It was like a high school reunion as we hugged and hung out. Its almost like everyone I know with locs was there. I even ran into a few friends that I hadn't seen in a few years. Needless to say, I'll be there next year as well.

September also had me meeting a little girl that changed how I feel about myself and my profession. I hope that little Keisha gets the help she needs, but my love and dedication to that little girl showed me that social work is what I'm supposed to do and I'm always going to love her for that. I looked back at some of my old blogs from a year or two ago and I really had no damned clue what I wanted to do with my life. Keisha gave me purpose.

Also this month has been my son's third birthday. We're taking him out tomorrow to celebrate, but it was the other day. On his birthday I guilted his dad into coming with us to the playground. I noticed two amazing things while we were at the playground. The first is how active he was. The first time I took him to this playground was about a year and a half ago (here). I was frustrated that he just didn't get the hang of things. This time around he was all over the place and he actually knew how to use the equipment. I guess he just needed a little practice and a little more growing. The next thing I noticed was how much Pumpkin adores his daddy. While there he hung on to his dad's every move, to the point where if Pookie stepped on a set of rocks, Pumpkin was right there, on the same rocks. I realized all over again how blessed I am for them to have one another.

So those three things have been my month so far. My life is awesome.

Options

Being one that likes to at times label things, I had a long talk with myself about who and what Pookie is to me. We tried the whole "relationship" thing for a few weeks and it didn't really work. Sometimes I wonder if it would or could have if I hadn't gotten pissed off, but that's neither here nor there. I decided that Pookie is My Man. That's right, I said it. He's not my boyfriend, but he's a hell of a lot more than that. If I won the lottery, he's the man I'd share my winnings with. If (God forbid) he were injured in a car accident tomorrow, I'd be willing to lift him in and out of wheelchairs for the rest of his life. He recently talked about needing dental work done, and I immediately thought to myself that I'd have to clear my schedule whenever he got it, so that I could wait on him hand and foot. That's what you do when there's a man in your life and in your home that holds you down. I'm his backbone and I'll be that to the fullest.

But though I decided to myself that Pookie is My Man, I told myself that I'd still leave myself open for another man if one came along and was a better match. Lo and behold the next day as I exited my car at the gym, I met a guy who told me he was a cop. I asked where he was from and he said Philly. I told him that I have fam in Camden, across the bridge in Philly. He told me that he used to be a social worker in Camden. I told him that I'm a social worker now. He asked about my firm and said that he'd like to get back into social work. Needless to say, there was enough in common for us to decide that we'd see eachother in the future and even work out together later. We've talked a few times and he's cool. I don't know how things will be yet, but all I can think to myself that he is the kind of man I could potentially see myself with. Don't get me wrong, things are still really early, but I know that he and I have enough in common that there could possibly be a future.

It all reminds me of a conversation I'd had with a girlfriend the other day. My friend has 2 kids and is married. Her husband wants her to get her tubes tied, while she's not so sure that she's done having kids. She's told him that if he wants to get a vasectomy, that's his choice and she'll respect it. But she wants to leave the option open. The problem is that her husband doesn't realize just how over him she really is. Of course she loves him but they've been together since high school (she's 30 now) and she feels that they've grown apart. Some days, she seriously considers divorcing him. And he really doesn't realize just how done with him she really is. So essentially she's telling him that there is a chance that she'll move on with her life and have kids later. He still has it in his mind that the only way she'll have another kid is with him.

And then today, I talked with my homeboy and told him about my newfound discovery about Pookie being My Man. I also told my friend that while I love Pookie, there are some things that I really don't know if I can live the rest of my life dealing with. I told him a little about the cop and said that it would be nice to share my life with a man that really understands and shares my passion. That's when my homie told me that he knows his girlfriend told another woman that while she loves him dearly, if another man came through and totally matched what she was looking for, she would haul ass and go with the new guy.

So there it is. I guess that while many of us women are content with the men at home, we all independently choose to love the men we're with while leaving our options open. I guess I'm not the only one with a roaming eye.

Day 19: Something I Regret

Hmmm... this one took a lot of thinking for me. It's just that I don't really regret a lot of things. Sure, there are plenty of things that I did that I wish I could redo, but I try not to live my life thinking of what I did that I want to undo, but instead learning from it. As much as I wish I could, I don't even regret my time with my ex because I learned a lot from it and it made me the person that I am.

But there IS one thing that I regret. I regret hurting Pookie's ex-wife. I've never said that I regret meeting him, because meeting him is what caused us to have my son, who I'll NEVER regret. But I do regret the immense pain that my being with Pookie caused her. I remember watching Why Did I Get Married, and crying as Jill Scott's character talked about how much she was hurting when she learned her husband was cheating. I never set out to hurt his ex-wife. Granted, I'm not fond of her, but I'd never wish the pain she went through on anyone.

Although, I must admit that Pookie has never been one to be happy in a committed relationship. So in the end I'm happy that she'll be able to find a man that loves her for who and what she is, because trust me, Pookie isn't and never really has been the right man for her.

Cursing at God- Part 2

In my defense, I purposely haven't been posting since my last post. I didn't forget about the blog challenge, I just wanted to leave the last post up at the top of the blog as a show of solidarity with her. Since then, things went a bit further. I had to take her to a psychiatrist the other day. While in the waiting room, her foster mother showed me writings she'd made where she declared that she wished she were dead. She said that she wanted to be home with her mother beating her because she deserved it. She called herself stupid. The only reason I didn't cry right there was because truthfully I was literally all cried out from the previous day. Nevertheless, I was heartbroken. I couldn't believe that such a little person could have such heavy emotions. The more I worked with her, the more I knew that I need to go to school to get my master's degree so that I could save more children like her.

Last night, I got a call from her foster mother. Apparently, her dumbass of a lawyer gave her some (wrong) information that sent her off the deep end. She was playing at the edge of the driveway and there were fears that she was going to throw herself into traffic. The foster mother could have physically restrained her, but as a foster mother, she couldn't legally do it. While I was on the phone with her she's heard one of her daughers say that Keisha was in the street. I grabbed my purse and headed out.

I cut a 30 minute trip in half getting there. I sped all over the road, cursing other drivers. They'd never know what I felt. How much I needed to be there, to hold her and comfort her and tell her to stay here if for no one else, for ME. I arrived at the home as a police officer was leaving. He told me that she was safely inside. I walked up to her and she was cool as a cucumber. I took her for a short drive so that we could talk, but she was silent. When we got back, I again spoke with the foster mother.

She said that when she'd spoken to Keisha's biological grandmother, she was told that this particular episode, it was nothing compared to what she'd done before. The foster mother was convinced that the little girl simply wanted to die. She was perplexed. After a bit of talking, it was decided that the little girl should be hospitalized. Her foster mother then told me that of everyone that has worked with her to help the little girl, I' the only one that made any sense. Wow. I've only been on my job for 8 months and this woman that has been a foster mother for 20 years says something like that about me. As I drove home, my heart raced. That was when it finally clear to me- social work is in my blood. I am now doing what the universe says I should be doing. I will soon be going to school to go further and help more children.

Today I contacted the foster mother to tell her that there had been a change in the office and that a team would be handling Keisha's case, not me. She then told me that the little girl is now in a hospital and that she'd gotten word that Keisha would not be going back to her mother's home. Apparently, they've looked at the fact that she'd rather kill herself than go home, as a sign that her mother wouldn't be the best choice for her. I inquired what hospital she was at so that I could go visit. Just because she's no longer my case load does not mean I've got to stop caring about her.

So anyway, perhaps somebody, somewhere up there heard the pleas of us few small people and decided to give the girl the best start possible from this point on. I don't know if I believe in God. But if S/He exist, I'd like to thank It.

Cursing At God

Last week I met with a girl for the first time. I'm going to call her Keisha. She's between 7 and 10 years old. She is in foster care. I'd asked her about her mom last week and she told me that she doesn't want to live with her mom anymore, but she declined to give details. I met with Keisha again today and she opened up a little more about her mother and said simply that she'd been hit by her mother. I talked to her foster mother a little more. The foster mother filled me in on the horrible details of her case.

Apparently the girl's mother has done things like lock her in closets, put a bag over her head in an attempt to suffocate her, and left her alone for long periods of time. The little girl has talked about wanting to kill herself. I'd asked the girl what she did for Halloween last year and she said that she didn't get to celebrate it, because her mother had been upset with her. I'd asked her if she wanted to talk about the bag and she said no. While we were at the playground today I explained to her that she did nothing to deserve the things her mother had done to her, but sometimes people are just mad at the world and they take their frustrations out on the wrong person. I urged her not to be the kind person that does the same thing.

There is a court case this week that will determine whether or not the little girl goes back to her mother or if she will be allowed to go live with other relatives. When I dropped her off at home, her foster mother encouraged her to be positive. I rubbed her head and stroked it gently and told her to be brave. Her foster mother and I shared our stories of having unhappy childhoods, but emerging from them and able to be good mothers with loving relationships with our children. I told Keisha that my mom told me to drop out of college, but I didn't. I urged her again just to hold on, to become an adult so that she could make her own decisions. She looked up and told me that this would probably be the last time we'd see each other. I hugged her and urged her not to say that. I stood behind her as tears ran down my face. I dried my eyes and wrote my phone number down and I told her that no matter what, she could ALWAYS call me. It didn't matter what time of day or night, she would have me. After a few minutes, I bid her adieu and told her that I would call to check on her.

I got into the car and had to sit there for five minutes to compose myself. I cried until I couldn't see. Such a little girl shouldn't have to deal with this. All I could think to myself is that someone should pray for her. We should ALL pray for her. That's when I started to say to myself that there has to be a God. Because who or what do we cling to in cases like hers? I don't know if I believe in a higher power, but moments like that, I look to the heavens and hope that someone, somewhere out there is listening to the little Black girl from College Park, Georgia. I drove up the street and had to stop because I'd started crying again. I called one of my best friends and asked her to pray for the little girl. But that's when I got angry. Where the fuck is God?! Who the fuck is God?! There can't be a fucking GOD! Because God, is supposed to sit in the clouds and make shit okay. God doesn't give little girls with hopes and dreams to fucked up people. That's not the God I knew about. So many people say how awesome God is when they see rainbows and mountains, but where is God for her? Even if she is placed with her other relatives, what kind of awesome omnipotent God would place a little girl in such horrible conditions, for a day, let alone for years on end?

So again, I'm back to square one. I guess I'd be considered agnostic, although I lean toward being an atheist. Because no kind of loving being would be sadistic enough to do this to a child.

But regardless of my issues, regardless of how you feel about me, regardless of what you feel about what I write, or my religious views, pray for her. Pray for her to be safe. Please, please, please, just pray for her.

Day 18: My Favorite Birthday

Hmm, I don't really have one particular favorite birthday, but I have a few different ones that stand out for different reasons.

#17 that was cool because we'd had a big barbeque for me, my ex, my cousin Hassan, and my friend Dorrian. my cousin Tracey was there. She'd died about a year later.

# 18 it wasn't really "good" but still special. Tracey had died a week prior and her funeral was the day before I'd turned 18. My aunt bought me Michael Jackson's "Off the Wall" cd for my birthday and to this day, it remains among my favorite cd's. My dad and I went to Atlantic City while we were in Jersey, as a way to get our minds off of my cousin's death.

#21 my friend Sebastian (Scorpio) took me to Papadeaux and he'd ordered me a drink called "Swamp Thing" he really went out of his way to make the day special. Shortly thereafter, I'd finally cut my permed hair off and I've been natural since.

# 28 Pookie and I spent the year in Florida with my mom. We went to the beach and he treated me like a princess the whole time we were there.

# 30 this year was pretty awesome. My party wasn't quite what I'd planned, but it was fun and I was glad to be surrounded by the people I love. I had a party at Joffrey's Coffee and we finished off the night at Eastside Lounge, which is where my homie bartends. He and Roderick got me good and drunk and I spent time with Fred. Before I hit 30, I told myself that I didn't want to be lethargic the rest of my life, so I decided to hit the gym that much more. Since then I've lost 13 lbs, and I can now run a mile straight, I'm shrinking out of my clothes and I'm happier now than I've ever been.

Day of Reckoning- Restraining Orders Can Be a Beautiful Thing

So I've decided that his has to and will be the last post I'm gonna make on this chick. I've found that my writing is different when she's on my mind, so I'm gonna vent an exorcise this chicken from my mind and spirit and then I'm on to the next to continue writing in a way that's a more accurate and beautiful reflection of my life. I'm not going to say that she won't be mentioned later, because in all honesty, when I think about what I've learned about love and life, I can't help but to sometimes reference her as a sign of what not to do. But anyway, I got a restraining order against her. But in terms of writing whole posts, that shit isn't gonna be in the future.

It started a couple of weeks ago when I'd written the blog about my first love. I wasn't so much mad that she'd commented (I expected it to be honest), I was more so pissed that she texted me at 3 in the morning when she didn't like what I'd written to her as a response. I should have ignored it, but this chick's arrogance irritates me to no end (I don't understand how a chick that looks like a fat man can think so highly of herself). Anyway, stupidly, I texted her back, again reminding her that she's a waste of time. Later in the day, I hit my ex to tell him to get his bitch. Later, long story short, I got a text from her, pretending to be him. In the text s/he invited me out for drinks after sounding depressed. One of the text said no sex, just drinks. Me being one for free alcohol, I figured why not. She later texted me and said that she just knew that I wanted the dude. That was the moment that I knew it was time to get some outside help.

For the last four years, I've been called, texted, emailed and even stalked to the point where she'd started going to my beautician. She'd emailed my sister, my best friend and my homeboy. I'd tried to be nice to her in the past, I've told her that I forgave her, I thanked her for taking my ex off of my hands, and the bitch just wouldn't go away. Every time she got pissed at dude (about every 3 months) I'd get contacted again. At one point she sent me her address and told me to be there to come pick dude up (WTH?!)

I didn't really realize how nutty she was until I'd started collecting evidence for the restraining order. I'd thought about the amount of times and ways that she's tried to contact me in the last 4 years and I'd reached about 20 different run-ins of phone calls, text messages, or contacting my friends and family. I'd asked Portia to write me a note for the judge. Portia told me something that I didn't even know about until the other day. I knew she'd contacted Portia, but what Portia told me was in the email sent a chill down my spine. In the email Portia described the strange rambling email she'd gotten where someone said that they were a fan of hers and her father's, but then the long rant went on to say that her show's cohost (me) was a bad cohost and that she would make a better cohost and that they should be friends and hang out. WHAT. THE. HELL?! That was the point when I'd seriously gotten a little scared. She'd emailed a professional contact of mine (not knowing that we were good friends as well) and basically tried to replace me. She's already friends with my ex-best friend and has my ex-boyfriend and now she's trying to squeeze me out on my radio gig? It reeked of Single White Female. Portia later looked up the email address from the email and it sent her to Chloe, who'd also sent her a Facebook invite a few days prior, which she'd deleted.

Also while collecting evidence, I talked to Pookie and asked him to write a letter for me, since he was there with me on my birthday when she'd texted me from David's phone last year. That's when Pookie told me that Chloe had emailed him, talking shit about me after I'd been willing to meet with David. Once Pookie told me that, I knew that the restraining order was not only desired but necessary.

I knew that night right after her texting me from his phone that a restraining order needed to be my next move. In the post where I'd written about seeing people going in and out of the courthouse to get married, I actually saw them while I was there to get the restraining order. I didn't even realize that the day was old girl's birthday, but all I could think was how poetic that was.

I was pretty confident going into court. I'd had documents from 3 of the people she's contacted, I had a note from my father, who is a psychologist and is slightly worried that she may flip and harm me, and I got a note from a homegirl of mine who I'd met and thought was a plant sent by Chloe and talked about how 'noid this chick has made me with all of her exploits. I'd also had a note from another friend of mine who I was staying with when she'd contacted me some years ago. I was ready to go to war. I knew she would come in there limping and claiming that it was I that was contacting her and not vice versa. The case is so insane because anyone that knows the heartache and headache that my ex put me through knows very well that I've got no intention of going back to him. I still don't understand how me being willing to meet for drinks with someone can instantly indicate that I want to sleep with them. Pookie hangs with his ex on occasion and despite she and I not being fond of one another, I've got faith that within the last 3 years, she's comfortably moved on with her life.

I'd also brought my friend Sky with me. She'd contacted Sky as well and he was with me on a few occasions when she'd started calling and texting me. I was ready. I was pretty confident until we'd walked around to the front of the courthouse. I grew nervous. My stomach started to turn. Could I do this? What would I feel like if I had to stare her down? What crazy lie would she pull out of her ass about me? My game plan was to let her talk and then hang herself. That pretty much worked for me the last time I had to go to court over the chick that Pookie had dealt with. That chick talked so much that the judge knew she was full of shit and the case was pretty much dismissed. I imagined Chloe going in there and trying to question my credibility and talking about when and how Pookie and I got together and other irrelevant shit. I knew that she wouldn't bring my ex with her because he'd hate to look like an asshole by standing by the crazy bitch in court. I knew she wouldn't bring her best friend, because I know that the best friend has told her crazy ass to quit contacting me too. On the way to court I'd questioned Sky and asked him if he'd be willing to still stick by me even if David was there. Sky said that he'd be willing to tell the truth, which is that Chloe is a nuisance and needs to move on from me. I love Sky.

We got to the courtroom and I grew more nervous. I looked around to the 15 people there and she wasn't one of them. HALLELUJAH!! I knew that with my evidence, Sky, and not having to counteract her crazy shit, the restraining order would be in the bag. When the time came, I went before the judge. She asked me to say my name and I was sworn in. The judge asked how I knew her. I said that she's my exboyfriend's current girlfriend. I waited a moment for her to take it in (I've learned to do that for dramatic effect, as people would typically expect his exgirlfriend to stalk his current girlfriend, which is not the case here). The judge looked perplexed and asked me to repeat it. I told her "YES, I'm the ex, she's the current." Then I went on to mention the numerous ways and times that she's contacted me and my family throughout the years and I'd mentioned that I live with Pookie and he and I share a child. I mentioned that I have gotten into the habit of having to tell my professional contacts that if they get a strange emails or phone calls regarding me they should ignore it. I mentioned how humiliating it is to have my friends and family be harassed for no other reason than being acquainted with me. I mentioned how she obviously thought the whole thing was a joke because she texted me after she got served, saying she thought it would be "fun" and she couldn't wait to see me in court. I told the judge that I've prayed for her, forgiven her, been nice to her, but she still won't beat it. I ended my testimony by stating that she isn't mentally balanced as evidenced by her stint in a mental facility for various infractions. The judge said she'd heard enough and granted me the restraining order, valid for a full year. I didn't even need to show her my numerous letters, nor did she need to hear from Sky.

Later on I talked to Portia about the whole thing. I told her that I think that old girl didn't show up because she'd backed herself into a corner that she knew she couldn't get out of. She'd sent plenty of text messages and made herself known to too many of my friends and family to deny any wrong doing. While there I'd heard the judge and court clerks talk about some other cases that had been reset and I knew that if old girl simply had a scheduling conflict, she'd have reset it. I was relieved. I also said to Portia that if that chick contacts me or any of my friends, family, or coworkers, I have every intention of having her ass arrested. Portia agreed that more than likely she'd thought the whole thing was a joke initially, but as time went on and the court case grew near, she'd realized that she'd gotten herself into a huge heap of shit that she wasn't ready or able to dig herself out of, so she knew her best bet was to lay low and slink away. I don't know and I don't care, but I'm FREE. I'm going to commence writing to my heart's content. No more skanks on my blog! Just me, my laptop and my thoughts!!!

Day 17: My Favorite Memory

Now this is the topic I'd been waiting to tackle. This, just like the blog "a moment" is one I like to think back on often. My favorite memory involves when I'd given birth to my son.

I was such a wreck in the days leading up to it. My due date was September 15th, so I knew around that time that he was nearing. I'd just taken in a new cat that wasn't neutered and was making my house smell like cat pee (the smell isn't nearly as pleasant as it sounds). I'd driven way to Gainsville, Georgia about an hour away from my apartment at the time, to get my cat fixed at a clinic. It was the morning of September 11th when I made the trip. I listened to the radio and was a bit weepy about the whole thing. While there to get pick up my cat later that afternoon, I'd gotten a call from my doctor. She said that since my Pumpkin was growing so much (because of gestational diabetes) they'd decided to induce my labor. I was in shock. I was going to be a mother. I'll always be thankful to the woman I spoke with at the clinic, because she understood my nervousness and told me that I'd be fine. I'm actually glad for the fact that to me September 11 now has a positive memory for me. The day before my labor was induced, I was at school doing a presentation, my friends Sebastian and Tenisio had come to my class to do presentations at Kennesaw. The whole class congratulated me and the fellas made sure to take special care of me as they let my big pregnant ass sit down to talk to the class.

I remember the morning my labor was induced. Pookie came to my home at 6am and drove me to the hospital. The whole way there, the song "This Woman's Work" my Maxwell played in my head. All I could think was "is this going to hurt?" and "how long will I be in labor"? I was so thankful to get to the hospital and see my best friends since childhood Courtney and Shaunnika there. A little later my stepmother Karen came also. I slept a lot at first (God bless DRUGS!) but I remember how later that evening around 3am when my drugs had worn off and I was in immense pain. Pookie held my hand as I squeezed his and yelled at the nurse to bring me more drugs. I'll never forget how he told me that I was doing well and to hold on. I remember that little paper coming from the machine, indicating when I would be experiencing more contractions.

The next morning after 33 hours of my little Booger making me want to just kill myself already, my doctor mercifully granted me a C-section. I remembered being rolled in. Pookie had to lift me onto the bed because none of the orderlies were men that could help. I was rolled into the room and they gave him something to put over his clothes as I was in there. He held my hand. I looked at him and apologized for the craziness I'd put him through during my pregnancy. He apologized as well. I told him I loved him. He told me that he loved me too. That was the first time he'd told me he loved me. Then he leaned in and told me that after a long battle deciding on the name, he'd decided that we should name our baby Caleb. I told him I liked the name.

A few minutes after silence from the doctors, we heard a baby cry. Our eyes got big as we smiled at eachother. Pookie looked up at the baby and shouted "he's gray!" In my state, I wasn't able to move so he got to see all of the action while I sat still. They handed Caleb to Pookie. I remember that he grabbed the baby and walked around the room. I waited for him to bring me the baby for me to look at and I finally had to say "let me see him!" because Pookie had been so wrapped up in looking at his newborn son. He was beautiful. Pookie says that he remembers one of the doctors shouting "he's a monster!" due to his size once they got a look at him. My baby weighed 10 lbs 9.2 oz at birth.

We later joked that we were going to call the baby "the hulk" due to his massive size and because the original Incredible Hulk was gray in the comic book (despite being a hottie, Pookie is also a bit of a nerd). I remembered the nurse telling me how nervous Pookie was about having a new baby and the nurses had to tell him that he wasn't going to break our baby. The nurse also told me how cute it was the Pookie was excited about us having the second biggest baby at the hospital that year (Pookie is a massive 6'6) and how awesome it was that he was clearly so happy to be a father.

So anyway, giving birth is my favorite memory. My particular favorite was when Pookie and I were in the room as my c-section was done. He's not particularly emotional, but that was one of our deepest moments of raw emotion. He held me, he caressed me, he comforted me. We talked and made up. For those few minutes as we talked, it was just he and I, feeling the same anxiousness. I needed him and he was there. He didn't leave my side. And that is my favorite memory.

Day 16: My First Kiss

There are some things that I try to keep deeply buried and this is one of them, but I guess I must do as I must. My first kiss happened when I was 15 years old. My mom wasn't home and one of the guys in the neighborhood was at my home and trying to get me to have sex with him (unfortunately I ended up giving my virginity to another douchebag later on, which I'm not going to bother to repeat). Anyway, he and I were on my bed and he leaned over and kissed me. That guy is now pretty much a bum living on his mother's couch and I wouldn't let him touch my lips again, even to give me cpr.

Sister To Sister

So like everything else in my life, this perfectly aligns to fit in with the foolishness I'm going through. I talked earlier about me meeting with a teenage girl that has a daughter. When I meet with kids for the first time, I always give them my phone number (my stepmother, a teacher, swears that I will eventually tire of this practice) and tell them to call me if they need to talk. I don't normally mind it. Anyway, my teen mom hit me today and said she needed to talk. I stepped outside and prepared to help her with whatever she needed.

She started by talking about her daughter's father, who is now dating a former friend of hers. She said that the guy and his chick routinely call and threaten her and she doesn't know what to do. She said that they call her with stupidity and she is tired of the mess. *Sigh* While I hate it that my kids go through these kind of problems, I love being a big sister of sorts and helping my kids out. I'm not an angel and I've done my share of dirt. But time and reflection have given me the chance to look back on my life and know what I did wrong, and where I fucked up. I started by asking her if she still sleeps with him. She sheepishly admitted she does. I told her to stop immediately. I told her that it doesn't matter if she needs to masturbate or just take cold showers, I told her that she needed to get far away from him. I told her that if a man really loved her, he wouldn't get off on letting his new chick harass her. I told her that Pookie would NEVER let me call his ex-wife and harass her, because only a man that truly cares about both parties wouldn't let either of them go back and forth (yet another reason why I love my man). I told her to get her shit in order and watch him begging and pleading for her once she did.

And then I had to break down the mentality of the other chick for her. I told her that she must be doing something right in her life for the new chick to call and text her continuously. I let my "lil' sis" know straight up that if she really had dude's heart, that chick wouldn't be thinking about her because she'd be content in her own life and relationship. Like always, I used my own life to illustrate the points I was making. I told my friend how twisted it is that my ex-boyfriend's baby mama is so insecure that after all these years, she's still hitting me up. I told her how crazy it is that someone is so bored with their life that all they have time to do is to email and text me and my family and friends. I told my lil' homie that if she really wanted to get under dude's skin, she should totally forget about him. I told her that when she drops off her kid, not to say a word. Don't ask him how is day is, and don't offer to tell him how her day is. If he asks her in for lemonade or to get down, she should say no, because she's got a man waiting to take her out. I told her to go to school, get her own spot, get a job and watch his mouth hang open as dudes that are worth something start to take notice and take her out.

By the end of our conversation, my lil' homie felt a lot better, I could hear it in her voice. It's like I'm a paid big sister. How cool is that?

Day 15: My Dreams

Goodness, am I really halfway through this? I guess so. Anyway, I don't really have any "dreams." I've got goals. I wouldn't really call them dreams though. I guess if I got the chance to do anything with my life, I'd want to be a sort of Oprah for kids with problems. I've always felt that the issues I've gone through were given to me to help me be able to relate to others. So I guess my dream would be to make money (and LOTS of it) as a media person that helps teens. Although I disagree with some of the things Michael Baisden does and says, I love the media model route he took, going from selling books out of the trunk of his car, to doing seminars, to doing plays, to having his own nationally syndicated radio show. So I guess I do have a dream. Don't hate the player, hate the game.

Day 14: What I Wore Today

So today was the day that I'd been waiting so long for, it was House in the Park. It was basically a day where a bunch of the underground heads in Atlanta get together and hang in the Perkerson Park. I saw so many artist that I know and love just walking around. I saw Joi, Algebra (she's so beautiful and always so sweet), Rahbi, and a few others. There were at least 2,000 people there. I've never seen so many heads of locs in one place together in my life! It's crazy how we all know one another. I kept saying that today was the first time I've seen so many Black people together and not been afraid that someone was going to start shooting or fighting. We had a great time and the music was on point. Unfortunately, Pookie has been blasting the ac and my nose is leaking like a faucet. But this is the dress I wore. It's a little denim number. I got it from Portia's mother. I'll twist the pic tomorrow. Going to bed now. Nighties.

Day 13: My Week

To say it's been a hell of a week is putting it mildly. For starters, I went ahead and got the restraining order against the person that has been bothering me. Hopefully this restraining order can be laid firmly in place and she'll have to deal with her own issues and demons and leave me the hell alone. On the Pookie tip, we've decided that we're still going to work on us and not have any official titles, but no screwing around. I love him. All of this restraining order stuff has showed me again how awesome he is.

I started out jogging with Daisy in the park. We didn't get too much done, but we did get something done, which I'm happy about. Later in the week I hit the gym and worked my ass off. I managed to jog my mile in less than 15 minutes (13:54 minutes to be exact!), which is yet another record for me. I'd even discovered that I'd dropped another 3 lbs. While working out, I've been listening to Janet Jackson's "Velvet Rope" cd and it does well at amping me up to run and lift weights. My arms are FINALLY starting to shape up.

Anyway, this week has also been a lot of me catching up on paperwork. I interviewed a rapper named Max Minelli a few weeks ago, so I'm finishing up the article I need to write on him. I'm also kind of behind on some paperwork from work so there hasn't been a lot of fun on my end. On a good note though, I had to meet with a couple of new kids this week. Sometimes I really don't know what to expect from the kids I'm gonna work with, so I go in there blind and hope to be able to help.I got to the home of the first girl and asked a few questions and found out that she's in her mid to late teens and mother of a girl who is a year old. Her guardian made it known that old girl doesn't have her g.e.d., can't go back to high school, and that she needs to get her shit together. I told old girl that I'm a huge advocate of education and I proudly told her that it took me nearly a decade to get my degree, and that I can hold my head high and say that I've got it. I told her that play time is over since she has a child and that she needed to get her stuff together, since the guardian made it known that she wasn't going to keep allowing her to sleep all day while she isn't working or going to school. I made plans with her to hang out next week and work on a life plan for her.

 The day after was even more poignant. I had another new girl i had to meet with. She was between 7 and 10. She was beautiful. Smart. Reserved. I sensed confusion and the desire to be accepted. I knew she was loving. I was drawn to her. She was in foster care. I asked if she wanted to talk about her mother and she said no. I asked if she wished she were back home with her mother and she shook her head no. I then stopped asking.This is her first time in foster care. She was hoping to be adopted by a relative. I took her to a playground so we could talk. That's when I became more open with her than I'd ever been with any of my other kids. I told her that I understood. I told her that I know what it's like to wonder why your mom doesn't accept you. I told her that I know times seem bleek. Then I promised her that if she held on that she'd grow up and she'd finally be in control. I told her that she'd get the chance to become the kind of mother she wished she'd had. She was silent.

I wanted to take her home with me. I wanted to give her a bedroom filled with beautiful dolls and teddy bears. I envisioned her being a perfect older sister to Pumpkin. I wanted to adopt her. I wanted to give her the mother she deserved and I wanted her to have the wonderful childhood and mother that I never had. I took her back and we agreed to meet next week as well. I know that Pookie would think I was insane to want to adopt her. I know that right now I've got some things to work on, but I've made a conscious decision to keep her adoption in mind.

Today was pretty cool too. Tomorrow is an event we're all looking forward to, so there's a lot of planning going on for that. Pookie asked me to go to the store where I came across a dude wearing a Kennesaw t-shirt. I asked if he was an alumni and he was. We sat there in the middle of the store and talked for about 10 minutes. It felt awesome to get to talk to another Black person that went to the school around the same time and had a similar experience. He and I exchanged numbers and agreed to be one another's dates at the alumni networking gatherings since we'd both joked about avoiding the events for fear of not knowing anybody. I just got back from seeing another one of my kids and his mom. I'm watching "Fried Green Tomatoes" and I'm taking a nap soon. This has been a great week, just like all the others.

Day 12: What's In My Bag

I had such a cool day today that I almost blogged about it, but I looked at tomorrow's topic which encompasses the whole week, so I decided that I'd just wait. Anyway, my purse contains my sunglasses, my change purse, my wallet, my cell phone, a bank receipt that I'd written some directions on, hand sanitizer, nail clippers, a small bottle of Curve perfume, Lancome lip gloss, Lipsmacker Stawberry lip gloss, 2 tubes of lip gloss that was some kind of fairy brand (I got it in San Diego at Hot Topic and I don't remember the brand but it was on sale and I'd love to find them again), 2 tubes of Shineblast lip gloss, and a tube of Lip Luscious lip gloss. Yes, I now have 7 tubes of lip gloss in my purse. Why? Cuz I loves me some lip gloss.

Day 11: My Siblings

I've got 4 sibs. Ayana, Shadia, David, and Karah. I spend a lot of time with my younger sibs, David and Karah. They live in Atlanta with our dad and their mom. Ayana lives in New York and Shadia is in the Navy and stationed in Japan.

Day 10: What I Wore Today

Today I wore a white v-neck tshirt, turquois flipflops, DKNY jeans that Pookie bought me and the dope hoop crochet earrings that my homie, Nora made.

By the way, blogging once a day is WAY harder than it looks.