7 Days in Savannah: We Ain't That Type Of Nigga

7 Days in Savannah is a recollection of my time growing up and being a young man in Savannah, GA. All stories are true and relayed to the best of my memory.


I was sitting at home playing NCAA football on the Playstation when my pager went off. From the code, I could tell it was my man, Kareem. From the 236 prefix, I knew he was calling me from the westside. I hesitated before calling him back, as I was about 3 minutes from winning yet another national championship; this time with Wyoming. With their subpar talent and ugly uniforms, that took some serious skills. As the confetti fell on the screen acknowledging my victory over the computer, I picked up the cordless and called the unfamiliar number on the pager display. I already knew what was up.


"Hello."

"What up, Kareem! You need a ride?"

"Yeah, but I need to talk to you. Meet me over on 37th and Jefferson. It's a house right down the street."

"Over there by where ol girl stay?"

"Yeah, I'll be outside waiting."

"20 minutes. Aiight, peace."

I hung up the jack, and put the colorful Fila shirt I was wearing earlier that day back on. I ran my brush over my head, then said "forget it" and threw on the Yankees cap I liberated from my brother. Grabbing the keys and the face to my cd player, I headed to my 91 Toyota Tercel and made the trip across town to pick up my homey. When I got there, Kareem's eyes were tinged with that familiar redness, a telltale sign that he had been smoking weed, drinking dark liquor, or worse.

"Yo!"

"Go head and park a minute. I wanna finish this blunt."

I parked and got out the car, walking towards an old house, that had 3 or 4 rough lookin' dudes hanging out on the porch. It was one of those places that in a few short years would be taken over by the Savannah College Of Art and Design in the name of urban renewal. Or gentrification depending on your point of view. Politics aside, I sat down on a makeshift chair, really a milk crate, and waited for Kareem to pass the blunt. The 3 or 4 other guys paid us no attention as we inhaled and exhaled the cannibis in silence. Finally, I broke the calm.

"What's going on, man?"

"I f*cked up"

"What happened?"

"For real, I f*cked up really bad."

I sensed this was something that had to come out on organically, so I said nothing else. Kareem stared off into space, stopping only to spit occasionally. When he was ready, he spoke.

"I hit Chandra."

"Huh?"

"I hit her."

Chandra was his girlfriend. He was living with her in an apartment on the Southside of town. She was good people. Perhaps a bit naive, but her nurturing nature was perfect for my friend. I wonder if she knew at the time that he was into drugs other than weed. I myself, had just recently learned that my best friend in the world was on that powder. It shook me to the core. It was difficult to fathom and even more difficult to reconcile. I can only imagine what it would have done to her. Kareem offered me the blunt, but I thought about the constant spitting and declined.

"Son, what are you talking about?"

"We got in a fight last night and she was in my face. I was geeked up. And I just hit her."

"I don't even know what to say. We may be a lot of things, my nigga, but we ain't that type of nigga."

"I know."

"I mean, where did you hit her? Are we talking a slap or full fledged punch?"

I don't know why I asked this question. It didn't make a difference. It was unacceptable, no matter how it went down.

"I punched her in the face."

"That's some f*cked up sh*t! You can't be doing sh*t like that."

"I know. You the only one I can tell about this."

"I hope you don't expect me to tell you that it's all right."

"I know it's not. And I know you will tell me the truth."

"Have you talked to Chandra? Is she okay?"

"She says she's okay. She wants me to come home, but I can't face her."

Then more silence. I didn't know what to say next. Part of me wanted to beat the tar out of him, but the other part wanted to be there for my friend.

"I'm not taking you over there. I'll drop you by your mom's crib, but I can't bring you back over there."

"I need to see her, dawg."

"You gonna have to find another way."

"She wants me there."

Tears formed in his already red eyes, although I could tell he was trying to hold them in. I could see what looked like grief and remorse on his face. I could sense an absolute sense of panic in his words, and against my better judgement, I finally relented.

"If she says its okay, then I'll do it."

We got in the car and drove back to the southside. No further words were exchanged by us. I sat there dazed, a little from the weed, but mostly from what I had just heard. Redman bumped from my 6x9 speakers as I pulled in the apartment complex.

"You ready to roll this weed up? Whateva, man"

"Turn the music down, Rashan."

"You ready to get this chedder? Whateva, man"

"YOOO!!! Turn it down!!!"

Kareem had a serious look on his face. I muted the cd player and listened.

"Park in the back, dawg."

He got out the car and sat on the trunk. I followed suit and did the same. I barely recognized the quivering voice that soon followed.

"I need to change my life. I can't keep doing this same sh*t every day. Getting high, running around with Tori. I got a good woman, and I treat her like crap. I need to get back with God, man."

"Do it."

"I need God's deliverence. I need him to deliver me from this coke."

"True."

"Jesus is the only one that can save my life."

"Word, son. I feel you."

"Pray with me, dawg! I got to get these demons out of me"

"Aiight."

So we prayed. Two high cats in the parking lot of an apartment that just hours ago was the scene of domestic violence. Kareem's tears flowed freely at this point. No longer did he hold them in. He had a breakthrough. I wont lie. I was filled with hope. Time would tell what would become of him, but in that moment, I had hope that my friend would turn his life around. The weed and liquor was inconsequential to me at that point. If I needed to give that up to get my brother back, then so be it. In his darkest moment, I felt closer to Kareem than ever. He walked to the door unlocked it and then turned around.

"You're right. We ain't that type of nigga. Thanks for reminding me."


There really is no moral to this story. What he did was horrible, and I don't know if at this point in my life I could be there to work through it with him. I'm not as forgiving now as I was 10 years ago. Nevertheless, this was one of the days in Savannah that always sticks with me. One of the days that I realized that people do messed up things to people they love. And sometimes it's people you know.

Therapy

I had a breakthrough earlier this week. I finally understand why I am the way that I am. I get it from my mama…and my father. I learned this during my therapy session (sleep therapy that is)…

Perhaps, if I felt that something was wrong with me, I could have realized this earlier, but darn it, I like me. I feel like if you have a problem with me, that’s your problem. So, no… therapy is not an option for me. That’s what my blog is for. Or that’s what my amazing coping abilities are for. Or my avoidance… wait, that’s probably not a healthy response. But as I was saying, my breakthrough came to me in a dream. The details of the dream escape me. I don’t even remember my parents making a guest appearance, but the general theme was blaring in its clarity: I am my parents’ child. Physically, there’s no doubting that. You can see elements of both my mother and my father in my visage, my mannerisms, my thought process. This is a little deeper than chromosomal traits. The way that I am is like they way they were. Let me give you a couple examples.

I love my family. Really, I do. But I’m not the call all the time type of person. I easily can go a month without calling and checking on people. It’s not that I don’t I want to know what they are up to, it’s just I feel like if they have something to tell me they will. Consequently, I play the black sheep role. I’m not complaining, its only temporary and it’s of my own doing, but I realized that may just be a learned behavior. My father used to do this same thing. We would go months without hearing a word from him, then when we visited him in the summer, it was like Father’s Knows Best up in there. I always wondered how a man could virtually forget about his children when they weren’t around, and be a loving parental unit when they were around. I vowed to myself that when I became a father I wouldn’t be like that. My convictions about that are very strong, so no worries about me failing that way. I guess, however, I failed to see how I do that with other people though and how it relates to him. Here’s another example…

When I get in a relationship, I give it my all, sometimes to the detriment of other previously established relationships. I know this about myself: my girl will take precedence over my friends. On its own, that’s a good thing. A real friend should understand that. During my previous long periods of singletude, I’ve warned friends, when I get a girlfriend, I’m gonna disappear for a minute. However, I tend to take things to the extreme. For example, I hung out with a friend last night that I hadn’t seen in 4 months. Now, not all of that was because I’m boo’ed up, but I haven’t even wanted to hang out with anyone else since me and Jam started dating. I got a call last week from my mom. The message went something like this… “Just because you all in love, don’t forget about your mother, and grandmother etc.” That brought certain memories back because my mother did the same thing back in the day. I remember when I was in high school, my mom was engaged to a man that had a daughter that was about a year older than me. She spent way more time with her fiancé and his daughter that she did with me and my siblings. She once forgot to come home to take me somewhere, because she was with them. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t care cuz I got to do whatever I wanted without interference, but I have to wonder: Is that where I get it from? I’m sure if my mother would vehemently disagree were she ever to come across my blog, but I think that’s where I subconsciously learned it.

Another thing I learned from my parents was avoidance. Or maybe a better word is repression. We don’t talk about stuff like hurt feelings and disappointments. Why confront when you can pretend it didn’t happen? Why bring up an issue when you can wait for it to disappear on its own? Jameil can’t stand this. I can’t say that I blame her, but that’s the way we were raised. Talk about good things, ignore the bad things. It works for us. I personally would rather be the family that is civil to each other than the family that screams, yells and feuds with each other. Don’t get me wrong, I know there’s a happy medium in between these two polar opposite positions. Maybe I’ll find it one day. I realize that I take this tactic with my friends too. I honestly can say that I don’t always tell my friend what I’m thinking. Scratch that, I never tell them what I’m feeling unless I cushion it in my trademark sarcasm. Is it any wonder that when I have something to say, it doesn’t get taken seriously?

So, with this in mind, over drinks at Eclipse Di Luna last night, I broke from my normal pattern. I laid out my issues with my friend. I told her why I haven’t been calling or answering. I confronted the possible hurt feelings; I unburdened myself for the betterment of our relationship. (Lest you think I’m being dramatic, it really only was like 3 sentences and matter of fact. I’m not an emotional type) I guess that dream affected me more than I initially thought. Let’s see if I can modify some of my other learned behaviors. Probably not! I like who I am. Thanks Mom and Dad!!! You guys are awesome!!!

That Guy

Ladies and Gentleman, I have a confession to make. I'm that guy. I'm the one that's focused on the present and the future, not the past. I'm that guy that may or may not answer the phone, and I'm certainly that guy that will not ever be calling you to see how you are or to catch up about old times. It's nothing personal, it's just who I am.



You may be wondering why I'm bringing this up. Even if you're not, I'll tell you anyway. LOL. A few months ago, I joined this facebook like reunion site for my high school (and later my college). It was cool for about a week. Seeing how old friends were, catching up in platitudes and cliches (life is good. I'm staying busy.) I really just wanted to see how much better I looked than them. LOL But then I got bored with it. I'd found everyone I wanted to find, and the novelty wore off. However, because I'm me, people from my past seem to love to reconnect with me. That in itself is not a bad thing.

Reminiscing is a good thing. But after the initial "how have you been for the last 10 years" session ends, so does my interest. I can only take so much of the "remember when" conversations. I do remember. Now, I'm gonna go do something else. Truth be told, we aren't really friends anymore. If we were, then I would have known that you have 2 kids by the lame dude in high school that people liked even less than me. I would have known that you got divorced; maybe might have even received an invitation to your wedding. I would have known you just did a stint in the Mount Pleasant Iowa State Correctional Facility for taking a joy ride on your neighbors tractor and destroying his crops. But I didn't know any of these things, so upon hearing about it, I'm interested. But after hearing, I'm done. It was a good story, but now let's move on. I'm sure you have way more stories to tell, but let's pace this thing out. You don't have to tell me everything that happened over the years. Leave something for your memoirs. Let me be surprised!!!

I guess what I'm saying is that I don't look at these reconnections as an opportunity to relive the past. My life, as uneventful as it is, is my life. I don't lack stimulation. I don't wish to recapture the glory days. I'm not bored or trapped in a loveless marriage and need to escape my life. I just want to say Hi, satisfy my curiosity and move on. Maybe we can go for drinks if we are ever in the same city, maybe I'll talk to you again in 6 months, but I'm not looking for a lifelong friend. I'm certainly not looking to be your "in case of emergency, break glass" d*ck in a jar. Really, I'm not. Sorry (not really) to be that guy, but I'm not gonna answer my phone all the time. I may or may not call you back. It depends on what I feel or what I'm doing at the time. Just because we were cool when we were teenagers, doesn't make you a priority as an adult. (By the way, wanna know how to ensure I will not call you back? Call me multiple times on the same day during business hours when most people are at work. Or call me mad early in the morning. That'll guarantee that I will be too annoyed to ever call you back.)

But you should know all this about me already. You know how I am. I'm a loner. More than likely the reason we stopped talking back in the day is because I disappeared on you. Maybe even relocated to another city without telling you. Maybe I just stopped calling when I got a girlfriend. Or found a new set of friends when I stopped working with you. Or maybe I just needed my alone time. You know what? Whatever the reason, I'm that guy. You might just be better off not even making an effort. I'd hate for you to get your feelings hurt trying.

So to recap... No, I'm not gonna call you when I go to Savannah. No, I'm not going to Homecoming. No, I'm not going to meet you somewhere so we can catch up. No, you can't stay with me when you come to Atlanta. No, I'm not gonna answer my phone when you call. No, I'm not even going to listen to the message, so don't bother leaving one. Let's just make this easier for all involved. Send me an email. I'm pretty good at responding to them, unless of course I decide to ignore those too. I'm that guy sometimes too. LOL

Cult of Personality

It’s not like me to hold my tongue for an extended amount of time. Usually if I think something, then I’m gonna say it. Or even if I don’t say it, I’m gonna write about it on my blog. Well, this situation is about 7 months in the making. Sure, I’ve mentioned it to a few people, but I haven’t really let all my feelings out on the situation. Enough buildup? Okay, here goes…I think my friend Kareem is in a cult.

I’ll pause here for you to snicker. I’m well aware that the first reaction to that statement is laughter. It sounds funny. I even wrote a joking post about cults last year. It sounds implausible and ridiculous, but I think it may be true. I’m sure some if not most of you recall my turbulent history with Kareem. He was my best friend, my brother from another mother, calling him my homeboy is an understatement. We rode hard from 7th grade until the year 2000, through school and girlfriends and partying and bullshitting. When he graduated from the green to the white, and stayed there, I had to make the painful decision to cut him off. I couldn’t bear to see la coca do to him what it did to my father. Call me sensitive if you want, but it was really a hard thing.

I moved to Atlanta , he went in and out of jail. I gave up the greenery, he had powder binges. I got on with my life, he, uhh, didn’t. My mom used to see his mom at church every now and then and would ask me if she should give him my number. For a long time I resisted. I didn’t know what was up with him. I didn’t know if he was off that stuff. I didn’t know if he would be going back to jail in the next month. I couldn’t take it. Finally, last year after some soul searching I decided that enough time had passed for me to get back in touch with him. I told my mom to go ahead and give Kareem’s mom my number.

The day he called me was a little strange. I didn’t recognize the number with the 912 area code. Usually I don’t answer unidentified numbers, but for some reason I took a chance. It was Reemy-Reem… We caught up on the years, he apologized for his drugged out antics (including but not limited to stealing my CD’s, running to my crib when he was hiding from the popo, and general boorish behavior). It was pretty cool. I was still apprehensive, but he sounded like his old self. In the course of the conversation, he told me that he was getting married. Fresh out of the pen and already getting married. He asked me to consider being his best man. I didn’t immediately agree, just cuz I needed to make sure that there would be no further relapses before I invested myself in him again. It wasn’t anything personal, just knowing the ways of addicts. In another conversation I spoke with Claire, his fiancée. She was extra enthused that Kareem and I were becoming friends again. It was weird to me that this woman that I knew nothing about, knew everything about me, but that’s how it goes. I hoped that everything was cool, but there were a couple of things that kinda seemed off to me.

One was Claire. Not saying that people can’t find love with ex cons, but for real? You gonna just marry this guy that just came home that lives with his moms and doesn’t have a car. And you are a graphic designer with multiple degrees from the Savannah College and Art and Design? I’m not hating on my boy, but that’s not exactly an equally yoked situation. It started to make more sense the more I got into the story. Claire was from Uganda , and was in the country on a rapidly expiring Visa. In order to stay here, she either had to find an educational sponsor, or get married. In my mind, that’s where Kareem came in. I know, that’s mad cynical, and I could be completely wrong, but that’s the vibe I got. Anyway, when I went down to Savannah for Thanksgiving, I got up with Kareem and Claire.

Kareem told me that he and some of his buddies from church were gonna be hanging out. Supposed to play some cards and eat leftover Thanksgiving vittles. I met Kareem at the Krispy Kreme parking lot on Skidaway. Pounds and hugs were exchanged. He looked healthy. His eyes didn’t have that familiar drugged out yellow tinge and slant. I followed him down some back streets to his church brother’s crib. When I got there, there were teenagers watching the BET Hip Hop awards while the adults were chilling in the kitchen playing cards. I was introduced to Claire, who gave me an all too familiar for my tastes hug. I sat back on the couch and observed the scene. There were a few random Jesus mentions, a few stories about the revival they just had, but nothing that led me to feel uncomfortable. Even though I don’t frequent church, I’m still able to politic about religion and hold my own in those discussions. Plus I grew up in a prayer meeting. That’s what my grandma’s house was like. If there is one thing I know how to do without trying, it's be respectful. And so I was… We adjourned to the kitchen to play some spades…

It was there when I started to get a strange vibe. They were talking more in depth about their church. Kareem got involved with the church while he was in jail. Apparently the church was big on the prison ministry and reforming criminals. I know it all sounds good so far. Stay tuned... The pastor was the one that hooked Kareem and Claire up and ordained that they would soon be married before they even dated. The church also held Thanksgiving revival away from their families out in the woods somewhere. When I heard that, my ears pricked up a bit. I controlled my smirk, as I continued to listen. Not everything discussed was church related, like when we talked about The Swagger (read that post if you haven’t read it… I’m hilarious. LOL) or when the conversation about how Chris Brown is the only young singer who can actually sing now a days. But most of the night was all about the church. It might just be me, but I don’t know if you praise Jesus for the Big Joker…

Okay, I’m prone to overactive imagination so I tried not to get carried away. But when they were talking about some of the donations they gave to the church, I was like this is a little excessive. How can you sign over your paycheck to the pastor, or donate your car to the church? Under other circumstances, it would be considered charitable, but if you are broke and can’t make ends meet, pastor gonna have to wait. Here is the biggest thing…GUESS WHAT THEY CALLED THEIR PASTOR: DADDY!!! A bunch of African-American men and women, calling their Caucasian pastor, Daddy. Oh, did I forget to mention that part. Yeah, he’s a white man, with an all black congregation that calls him Daddy, while retreating in the woods away from their families on a major family friendly holiday. Something just didn’t seem right about that. Can you say "Jim Jones (and not the wack rapper.)?"

Even with all that, I wasn’t thinking anything untoward was going on. It was mad strange, no lie, but at the end of the night I was still okay with it. Kareem and I talked about his wedding, which was to be this Saturday the 28th. He asked again if I would be his best man. I was leaning towards it. But guess who has not heard from his friend since that day??? That’s right. I never got an invite to the wedding, a call to ask if I was coming, tux specs, nothing. Not even a call to say what’s up? I don’t know if I was too heathenly, or if he’s disappeared with his cult, or Claire found someone else to marry to stay in the country. I just don’t know. His phone is off. My mom hasn’t seen his mom at church (they go to different services) to ask. I just don’t know. I hope he isn’t really in a cult, but more than that, I hope he’s not back on the drugs. Cuz truth be told, that’s my bigger fear.

Don't Save Her

She don't wanna be saved...

I wish that she would trust herself more. I wish she would not allow herself to be manipulated. I wish there was something that I could say to make her realize that she's making the wrong decision... But these wishes are not fulfilled.

Instead, I play the good friend role and listen when she wants to talk or distract when she doesn't. I can't tell her what to do. I've tried that in the past. She nods her head or says "you're right" but then does the opposite. I told myself that I wasn't gonna say anything anymore. It's hard. It's really hard because I know the game. I don't play the game, but I recognize game. I've been a coach before. A couple of times recently. I helped people do what he is doing to her. I hate that I did that. I hate that I wasn't strong enough to refrain. But there's no use worrying about it. What I can worry about is that my friend is going through it. Unnecessarily in my opinion. What's obvious to me is murky to her. It wasn't murky the other night, but now that she's talked to him, its mad cloudy. But it's really not. Take this situation aside and I still wouldn't advocate for this relationship. I mean, he's cool. But does he love her? Doubtful. Does he even like her? Don't think so. And its mutual. She don't like him either. At least not from what I can see.

I told her this the other day while sipping a Heineken at the bar. I tried to be supportive. Hell, I was supportive. But I don't agree with her decision at all. I told her that she is not responsible for his well being. If he wants to hurt himself, that's his decision. It's also game. If she were in fact his whole life, then why would he seek attention in the arms of other women. He says things like this because he knows it works. Narcissistic as he is, suicide is not a viable option. And even if it is, that's his decision. Harsh? Maybe, but what's the alternative? Stay with someone that you don't want to be with for the rest of your life? That's not right either. I told her all this and loads more. Rashan is all about the real talk. I'm not sure if she can handle it, but I feel its my responsibility to give it. Me keeping quiet is not gonna help anybody.

I feel its a waste of breath though. She's gonna do what she decides to do. Her resolve lasted all of 12 hours. I hate it. But whatever decision she makes, I'll support her. That's what friends do, right? Real friends will let you know when you are wrong, but still be there for you no matter what. I wish I could could save her from herself... She don't wanna be saved.

I Put On For My City

Big wheels big straps you know I like it super sized
Passengers a red bone her weave look like some curly fries
Young Jeezy - I Put On

That is the funniest line I've heard in a minute. Anyway, as you all know I was in Savannah this weekend. I had big plans of taking pictures of all my old stomping grounds and posting them with little anecdotes, but mother nature decided she didn't want to read that blog post. I was driving around taking pictures when the skies opened up. Savannah is known for its random pop up thunderstorms that last about 15 minutes, followed by a return to bright sun and oppressive heat. But today was different. The rain lasted a good two hours and I wasn't able to get all my pictures. In fact it was raining so hard that the streets were flooded for a minute and I was temporarily blinded while driving on the bridge to my mom's neighborhood. Maybe next time I go down there, I'll be able to do that post, but for now, we'll just deal with what we have.


It was mom dukes birthday. The party was cool. Moms cried a couple of times, but held it together better than I thought she would. She used to cry at commercials, but maintained most of the night. My sister in law actually brought out the first tears of the night, with her song. Any guesses as to what corny song she sung? Of course it was "W.in.d Bene.ath M.y Win.gs." I thought that was funny because my sister and I were just joking about playing that song during the slideshow of old pictures we had prepared for the party. We thought that was just waaaay too corny. As far as my speech, I never got around to writing it, so I freestyled it. I had the concept of what I wanted to talk about, and stuck to it and that's all I have to say about that. Here are some pictures from the party. Most of them were on other peoples cameras including the video camera that I was operating for much of the night.



My Mom(in the dark) Her Husband, My nephew and some people I should probably know

The Party Sign






"The Purse Cake" my niece made. The strap is a fruit roll up


When that joint was over, I headed back to my moms crib and chilled for a minute. I was supposed to meet my old friend Senita who I've not seen since 99 or 2000. It was mad hard to get out of the house. I felt like I was back in high school trying to convince my mom to let me go out. I was like I'm 33 now. Can I just leave without an interrogation? I swear it took like an hour to get the house keys and be able to head out. I didn't even change clothes because I knew that woulda took even longer and I might never get out the house. Anyway, once I escaped, I called Senita to find out what was up for the evening. We decided that I would come pick her up, since she had already been drinking all day and go to this club called Mu.tua.ls. As far as I knew I had never been there, but once I got to her crib and rode to the club, I remembered that I had been there before when it had a different name. I don't know how I can recall anything, since all my going out stories involved either weed, drink, or weed and drink, but as soon as I saw the spot, I remembered that as being an old folks, I mean grown and sexy club.


We went in and paid the $5 cover charge (I don't remember the last time I paid $5 to get into a spot. Mad cheap.) The first thing I noticed was that they didn't check me for weapons. That was a little off putting since this is Savannah, and Savannah niggas shoot, but it was all good. Walked up stairs to the club portion of the building and it was instantly hot. Nah, scratch that. Hot is an understatement. It was a sweat shop in that piece and crowded as hell. I think half of Savannah's population was in the club. We eventually burrowed our way to the bar, and then to the dance floor. Well, I didn't quite make it to the dance floor, but Senita was out there for like half a song before the heat took over and we had to dip. We hung out downstairs in the restaurant portion (which was not selling food) of the club. Talked for a good while, laughed at some old stories, told some new ones. And I can't forget the talking about people. There were some real characters in there. Like the old man in the electric blue suit with the beret. Or the guy with the orange gators on, or the guy with painted multi color s.eb.agos... So much comedy, so little time, so I'll move on. Just a couple more things about the club... I saw a girl I went with high school with but I couldn't remember her name, so I didn't speak. She didn't speak either, but she was looking at me. Also, if I ever need a self esteem boost, I'll just go to the club in Savannah. I got mad attention. I mean, I coulda found my next stalker in the club that night.



Senita Close Up

Okay, so after we got tired of the club, we decided to hit up the beach. I remember back in the day, I used to think that going to the beach was like going to "Africa? That's far!" Name that movie... but after living in the A and driving so much it was nothing. I know, its weird for friends to go to the beach together at night, but it really wasn't like that. It had been a long time since either of us had been there, so we went. It was cool. We walked in the darkness and watched the waves and talked. After a while it wasn't weird anymore. It was just two old friends reconnecting. I know this much, if I had some different company though, it would have been different out there. LOL. Anyway, I got a few flicks from that and the ride home, but I probably shouldn't share them, since they look kinda like I had drugged and had my way with Senita from the way she was passed out sleep in the car. LOL. Dropped her off around 4:30 and was back at my mom's crib before 5. Washed the sand off of me and went to sleep. Here are the pictures I can share.



Me on the beach. It had been a long day. Don't talk about me. LOL



Right by the water


Washing the sand off


Passed Out On The Way Home

Sunday afternoon, I was gonna do the whole reliving my past in pictures thing, but it didn't exactly work out. My niece made me a "good for a 10 year old" omelet and then I went to the car to make a phone call since I can't get service in my mom's house. When it became clear that I wasn't gonna be able to get in the shower anytime soon, (too many people, not enough bathrooms and hot water) I went for a ride while I talked on the phone. I rolled by my alma mater, but the back entrance I used to go in was gated up. I was gonna go to the main entrance, but instead took a right to see my old apartment. This apartment was really cheap, but I had some good memories there. Again, they were all drink and drug fueled. The best $290 a month I've spent. I actually was heading to another old spot when the rain started. I was downtown taking a picture of Lad.y and Son's for my food obsessed homey, when the rain started. I was also looking for Froz.en Pa.radise, which wasn't there anymore, but I was told moved to a new location. That's when the skies opened up and killed my dreams of taking pictures of my other apartment, my high school and middle school, the other clubs we used to frequent...etc etc etc... Judging by the length of this post, I really didn't need anymore pictures and stories. I be writing too much.



You happy Jameil? There's your restaurant


SSU, represent!!!





I'm high just looking at my old crib...


My mom's crazy hall of pictures. Oh yeah, and my brother/nephew Nate

I got back to Atlanta around 2. I have to go to work at 11 today, and then 9AM Tues-Thursday.. That's gonna be an adjustment. I'm thinking about just staying up and then sleeping when I get home from work. Either way, I need to stop writing this now. Have a good Monday! Oh, and I forgot that I didn't add any details of my blogger meet up with La and Joy! Hopefully one of them (hint hint) can write it up so I don't have to. Until then remember...

"Jesus is the only one that can make it rain!" - The Joy 2008

Throwbacks

A Random Throwback Rashan Picture

Life has a way of bringing people and things that you thought you lost back to you. The last week has been full of throwbacks. So far they have all been good things.

It started on Sunday. My sister was putting together a slideshow for my moms party this Saturday. Lots of old pictures to sift through, and old memories coming back. Now you know I think I have almost total recall when it comes to the old stuff, but some of these pictures brought even more repressed memories flooding back. Like my Gordon Gartrelle shirt with the diagonal buttons.

.

That was a shirt I used to wear back in 6th grade before I moved to Savannah. It's hideous, I know, but at the time I loved that shirt. Couple that with the faux jheri curl (for the record its my natural hair with lots of water. No chemicals.) I rocked and it could be considered a pretty embarrassing picture. But for me it's not. It reminds me of the time right before I moved to Savannah, when life was one big melange of playing outside, riding bikes farther than my mother knew, flipping baseball cards, watching Tran.sfor.mers, GI Jo.e and Th.unde.rcats amongst other cartoons and cursing. Yep, we were just coming into our own with the cursing back in 6th grade. My Rainbow Coalition of friends (that's me in the maroon Mem.ber's On.ly Jacket..you can't see the J's, but I had the first pair. My first and last pair of Jor.dans) and I used to have so much fun cursing each other out, but it was all in fun. Nobody ever got mad, we just liked the sound of those forbidden words. I have so many more memories but I'll save some of those for a rainy day when I have nothing to post about I have more to talk about so lets move on.

Then yesterday, I reconnected with an old friend of mine on MySpace. I usually never even log on, and I just added pictures to my page the other day. I actually found her awhile back , but just got in touch with her yesterday. We exchanged emails for a few, caught up on 9 years, and I was able to get out my apology for leaving Savannah without telling her (or anybody for that matter.) It culminated with her sending me her phone number. She's back in Savannah for awhile, so maybe I'll try to see her when I'm there this weekend. I'm not sure if I'll have time since I'll be there for my mom's birthday party, but I'll try to sneak out. Another throwback...

And then just a few minutes ago, I got a call from Jessica. I don't know if anybody remembers from the old blog, but me and Jessica were as thick as thieves for a while there. We went just about every weekend for a few months until she moved to Tennessee for work. We used to keep in touch, but when I was going through my mess I kinda fell off. Then she was going through some mess. Then I started dating PHD, who Jessica hates and told me not to go out with. Then, I don't know, life just took us in different directions and we hadn't talked. Well, she called me tonight, and it was great. It was like old times. She'll be here next month, so we'll have to hook up. I knew there was a reason I didn't go to work today, you know besides laziness. Here a picture of us from a couple years ago.

With all this throwback stuff going on, I normally would be waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's not being pessimistic, its just being real. Usually good stuff is coupled with bad stuff for me. That means that I reconnect with someone I want to reconnect with, then one of my old stalkers pops back up. But I'm not feeling that way. I'm okay with the all the throwbacks so far, and who knows maybe I'll see even more when I go to Savannah this weekend. Ahh, who am I kidding? I'm gonna do like I always do when in the Seaport City: Grandma's house, Mom's house, and home. I better not tempt fate.

Three Day Weekend

Forgive me, Blogger for I have sinned...

Yep, I know I've been slacking on my blogging. It's not like me to take Tuesday and Thursday off but you know it be's like that sometimes. This is the part where I insert some lame excuse that nobody wants to hear. Truth is, I just haven't felt like it. I mean, I have excuses galore. For example, I could tell you that I haven't been posting because of my allergies. The pollen is so thick in Atlanta that all the cars, parking lots, mailboxes, etc are covered in yellow powder. It's so bad that I'm either sneezing, or I'm out of it from taking that medicine. That's a good excuse right? Or I could tell you that work has been crazy and I've not had as many spare moments to write at work like I used to. When I come home the last thing I want to do is be on the computer again. How about that one? Does that excuse work for you? If not, then try this one. I've been stressed out by all the money I've spent over the last 2 weeks getting my car fixed twice, getting a new phone, taking care of family. I could tell you that, but that's not really the truth.

Truth is, I just didn't feel like blogging. I got plenty of blog ideas, but when I sat down to write them, I just wasn't feeling it. Same thing with reading. I just didn't feel like reading blogs either. I don't know, it was just that kind of week. I didn't really want to do anything except sit around watching dvds. It was kind of a lost week as far as blogging goes for me, but I think I'm back now. Or at least I should be after my 3 day weekend.

Got big plans this weekend. Well, maybe not big plans, but I do have smedium plans. I'm supposed to get out the house and be social. I'm off work tomorrow since I had to work last Saturday, so I'll be able to catch happy hour with Kristie and them. It'll be good to hang out with my friend, and my drunk wrestling partner (Jameil and Diva, she is NOT a man, camera phone pics if I can) is supposed to be there too.

Tangent: I got to get my haircut first. I'm thinking about letting my hair grow out some. Not like a fro or anything, but not so close to my scalp as I usually get it. I'm not gonna get my Gregory Abbott on like this picture

But I want a little more hair so I can get past this fuzzy sticking up phase that its in right now. Maybe let it grow a little more like in this picture.

Did I tell you I'm bringing the box back for '09? It's gonna be like 1990,1991 and 1992 all over again. Like these high school pictures. Yes, those are beads and Africa around my neck. LOL.

What was I saying... oh yeah. Happy Hour. After that, I'm supposed to go hang with some of my coworkers at some grown and sexy club. I can already see myself flaking out of this one. Last time I went there, I got hit on by a woman old enough to be my mama, and did I mention how much I hate those do-this-dance-to-my-instruction-dances? If I wanna sliiiide to the left, I'll do it, but not because you told me to. Plus, I don't know how these work people will act outside of the job. If I get enough get-right fluid in me during Happy Hour, perhaps I'll still slide through.

Saturday, I'm supposed to hit up a birthday dinner and drinks thing for someone I know from someone else. I don't know when it is, but its supposed to be at my usual spot. Even though, the birthday girl sometimes comes across a little bougie, it should still be fun. At the very least, I'll get a few caipirinhas and talk lots of shit and make somebody, anybody call me a jerk. That'll be fun. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to get up with an old friend for dinner and/or drinks if she can ever fit me into her schedule. Yes, I'm talking to you! You know I don't be making an effort like this, so I'm a need you to get it together. LOL. Sunday will be my day of rest. At least I hope so. The last couple of weekends all kinds of stuff has been popping up, but hopefully I'll just be able to chill.

Hopefully after and/or because of my three day weekend, I'll come back refreshed and ready to be a full time blogger again. Maybe I'll even find the inspiration to do part 8 of Making The Blog. Yeah, maybe not. Anyway, I hope everyone has a good weekend. I'm sure I'll be checking your pages out sometime this weekend. One!

Bros Before Hoes pt 3

Part 1 and Part 2 are below, or click the links. I know it's really long, but its finished now.



"I want to talk to you guys about Tony!"



In retrospect, I'm surprised it took this long. They had been together for what seemed like an eternity. And virtually the whole time, Tony hadn't grown up a bit. He was still that same silly, immature, cheating guy that he was back in the day. Regardless of that, he was my friend and my loyalty always lied with him no matter what. On this night, however, I had enough.



"Where did he go tonight? I know he told you guys."



I looked at Kareem, hoping he would take the lead. He looked at me hoping the same of me. Neither one of us said anything.



"I've been around you guys long enough to know that you guys don't keep secrets from each other. All I'm asking is the same respect."



She had a good point. What he was doing was disrespectful, and by keeping quiet, I was being disrespectful as well.



"I really think this is something that you and Tony should talk about."

"So, you do know?

"Yeah, I mean. I know what he told me."

"Was he with another girl?"

"Damn, Leslie..."

"He was!"

"I didn't say all that."

"Do you think what he is doing is right?"

"Nah, I mean. It was fucked up that he left you today, but..."

"You are just gonna let him treat me this way. You guys are supposed to be friends. Friend check their friends when they are doing wrong."

"I did..."

"So you think what he is doing is wrong?"



Damn, pre law girl with her logical arguments. I felt like Caine in MenaceIISociety getting tricked by the police. I internally debated the pros and cons of coming clean with Leslie right there and then. On the one hand, she was cool people and needed to know the truth, on the other hand, Tony was my boy. Bros before hoes! That's the code of the streets. In that moment I came to a decision.



"Look, Leslie. It's not my place to snitch on my homeboy. But what I will say is this: where there's smoke, there's fire."

"OH GOD!!! How many girls?"

"Again, its not my place. I already said too much. And its only because I like you and I think you deserve someone who is gonna treat you right. Hopefully, it can be Tony, but if not, then you gotta do what you gotta do."

"Are you telling me to break up with him?"

"Nah, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying, you need to be treated the way you want to be treated and not settle for less."

"I'm gonna do it. I'm breaking up with him as soon as he gets back."

"No, don't do that. Talk to him. Make it clear what you want and what you will not accept."

"You're right."



That night, I broke the G code, somewhat. I struggled with my decision to speak up. I felt like I betrayed Tony. But on the other hand it was a relief not to be carrying that weight anymore. My days of being an alibi were done. I wish I could say that things got better for Leslie and Tony. But they didn't. I mean, they really, really didn't. She didn't break up with him and for a month or two, he did right by her. But then she went back to Georgia Southern and the old Tony came out to play. It culminated on an October night when I got a phone call telling me that Tony was in jail.



"He is in jail for what?"

"No lie, kid. Statutory!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I wouldn't lie about that... He needs bail money or he'll have to stay the weekend."

"Fuck that. I ain't bailing that stupid nigga out, besides I ain't got it. Da fuck is he messing with underage girls for anyway?"

"Should we call Leslie?"

"Hell no! You can't tell her about this."

"Well, then he's gonna get sent to county"

"I mean, its your call. Ain't no way in hell I'm making that phone call."



Somebody called Leslie. And she actually bailed him out. I wonder if it was out of love or shock, but she did it. But that was the straw that broke the camel's back. There was no more Leslie and Tony after that, a fact that she made very clear to me shortly after she found out. Somehow, she had found her way to my apartment. Kareem and my roommate Charis were there too. It was hard to look Leslie in her face...



"I'm bailing your friend out of jail, but I want you to tell him not to ever call me again."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry to be putting you in this position, but I can't face him. I'm not gonna cry anymore over his triflin ass."

"I got you. But did you ever stop to think he might be innocent?"



I was really playing devils advocate, more than advocating for my friend. Shit, I knew in my heart that he was guilty, so Leslie probably knew the same.



"It doesn't really matter. For him to even put himself in a position that he could be accused of something like this just shows he didn't really think shit about me."

"You're right."

"I hope that you can help him get his life together. I'm done. I'm fucking done..."



And she was. I never saw her again after that. I'm sure Tony did his fair share of begging, but to no avail. I can't say that I was sad about that. Leslie was a good person, she didn't deserve to be treated like dirt. I regret the role I played and that I let the bros before hoes mentality compromise my own morality. I hope Leslie is doing okay today. That was the kind of relationship that makes women swear off men, or go crazy. As for Tony, he copped a plea. He didn't have to serve time, but he got probation and had to register as a sex offender. I found out the girl was 15 at the time while he was 21. I (intentionally) lost touch with him (there were other issues that don't fit into this post) when I moved to Atlanta, so I have no idea what he's up to now. Last I heard he was singing in a gospel group and going to seminary school. I wish I beleived that was sincere, but I really don't. I hope it is though.



So, what do you think? Was I wrong for telling Leslie what the deal was? Should I have kept my mouth closed? Should I have said something sooner? Inquiring minds want to know! 10 years later and I'm still kinda conflicted about this one. I know it was the right thing to do, but was it also was the wrong thing to do? I'm not sure. Anyway, thanks for reading...

Bros Before Hoes Pt 2

Scroll down for part one, or click the link

If this was a movie, this would be the part where Tony tried to get his act together while I provided support. But in real life, ain't nothing changed. He kept doing his thing, and I remained complicit in the situation. We had to switch it up, as Leslie had grown fond of calling my girl to pour out her heart. Couldn't use me as an excuse if I was over there at the time. But that's what Kareem was for, or the fake studio time, or late night study sessions. It was all just cover. No, this was no period of redemption, rather just the status quo. I started to hear more often about Leslie's suspicions from Lisa. I also steadfastly refused to get involved. C'mon, who's more stubborn than me? I'll answer that: nobody!

It all came to a head on a summer's night in June. The year was 1997. We were all going over to Kareem's mother's house to watch the second Mike Tyson-Evander Holyfield fight. (Niggaz had bootleg cable so we couldn't get PPV at the crib.) All the usual suspects were there: Kareem and Chandra, me and Lisa, and Tony and Leslie. Before the fight began, we grubbed down heavily, while talking and laughing. Tony called me and Kareem to the side.

"Hey, I'm need to dip out for a few minutes."
"What's up?"
"I need to go check out this honey real quick. We gonna smoke one and then I'll be back"
"Damn, nigga! Your girl is right here, you sure you wanna do that?"
"Yeah, I had told her I was gonna fall through, but Leslie came and got me too early."
"What are you gonna tell Leslie?"
"Nothing, I'll be back before she notices I'm gone."

Famous last words. Tony rode out to go meet up with random girl, in Leslie's car no less. Kareem and I were blowed, but tried not to let it show. We went back into the den and watched the pre fight hype and preliminary bouts. Leslie looked puzzled, but never asked where Tony was. He more than likely gave some bullshit excuse. Two hours later, the fight was about to start and Tony was still incognegro. So much for a quick smoke. Kareem and I had another conversation.

"Kareem, what's up with your boy? He's taking this shit too far."
"I don't know. I tried to tell him to cool out.:
"Man, I don't know how much longer I can be his alibi. At first, shit was easy, but I'm starting to get to know and like Leslie. She don't deserve this shit."
"I know what you mean. This is the last time for me."
"I'm just saying. He's putting us in a fucked up situation."
"You ain't lying. My girl is looking at me like I do the same shit."
"Yeah, so what you wanna do. I think we should tell him if he ever gets his punk ass back here."
"I'm with you."

Round one passes. Holyfield is head butting Mike something terrible, but neither fighter is doing any damage. Round two.. more head butting and dirty fighting from Holyfield. Round three... Tyson fucking snaps. WTF? Son did you see that? Tyson just bit Holyfields ear. Oh shit, he did it again! Is that a piece of ear on the mat? The door opens and Tony comes in, obviously high and acts like he was there the whole time. The fight is over. Tyson got disqualified and I just lost $50 in a bet. In between yells at the big screen TV, and utterances of disbelief, I see Leslie and Tony leave the room, presumably to do what they did best: argue.

30 minutes later, Leslie comes back in the room, the obvious remnants of tears hanging from her eyes. Tony is nowhere to be found. Leslie and the girls huddle in the corner talking in hushed tones. We can't hear what they are saying, but it without a doubt can't be good. Kareem and I went outside to find Tony. He is sitting out in Leslie's car, cursing to nobody in particular.

"Damn, man she blowing my high!"
"Aw, nigga. Boo Hoo! What'd you expect would happen? You rode out for 2 hours and left her. She supposed to jump for joy?"
"Rashan, you don't understand. Leslie ain't cool like Lisa is. She always nagging me about something."
"You were gone 2 fucking hours! You don't get that shit?"
"I didn't mean to be."
"But you were. You can't be straight disrespecting her like that. Every woman has her breaking point."
"Yeah, man. Whatever!"
"You think its all a game, man. Girls like Leslie don't come around all the time. You just need to chill sometimes. You don't wanna mess that up because of some random chick."
"Nigga, don't worry about mines! I'll handle that shit."
"Oh, its like that? You really gonna try to play us? We've had your back since day one."
"Man, fuck you niggaz."
"I'm a pretend like that's the weed talking. But get in my face again, and its gonna be some shit."
"Fuck you, do what you gotta do!"
"Aiight, then."

Kareem interjected...

"Hey, Tony. We are your boys and we gonna give it to you straight. Maybe you need to just calm down for awhile before you say something you gonna regret."
"Man, fuck you too! Neither one of you niggaz know what I'm going through. Far as I'm concerned, you both are player hating." (that's what it was called back then. LOL)
"Just ride out and come back when your high has worn off."

Tony drove off and Kareem and I stood outside contemplating what just happened. Tony always was an emotional (read: bitchy) cat. It wasn't that serious. Or was it... Maybe, what he needed was a wake up call so he could finally grow up. It didn't take long before the ladies joined us outside. The serene Southside air held a feeling of foreboding. Something was about to happen that would change everything. Leslie spoke, flanked by Lisa and Chandra.

"I want to talk to you guys about Tony."

Shit... this was the moment I feared.

Part 3, which is the conclusion will be posted by 4:30 pm. It is already written and in my drafts. It just was too long to add to this same post.

Bros Before Hoes (But What If She Ain't A Hoe?)

From the archives of my mind... A situation that for some reason popped in my head tonight. I'm still somewhat conflicted over this one. I'm gonna change the names in this story, just because who knows who is reading this thing and its not just my business. I have no problem telling my dirt, but this one involves some other people that I used to call friends.



It was always an unwritten rule: Bros before hoes. We never had to talk about it. If my brother's needed an alibi, they used me. If they needed a ride from some random chicks house, they called me. If they needed bail, shit, call someone else. LOL. I never thought about how I was affecting the people that care about them. It didn't really matter to me. If my brothers were doing dirt, that was on them. It wasn't my place to set them straight. My loyalty was with them, not with their girlfriends. I wasn't doing any dirt. I never needed any alibis and that was good enough for me. I was a faithful man.



I can't count the times that, we'll call him Tony, called me and told me that if his girl asked, we were at the club or in the student center. I had his back. I mean, she wouldn't ask me anyway, for some strange reason she trusted Tony. Tony and I went to Savannah State, while his girl, let's call her Leslie, matriculated 45 minutes up the road at Georgia Southern University. Let me digress for a minute...



Tony was my homeboy since high school. He and my man Kareem were friends, and we became friends by association. When Kareem left to go to school at Norfolk State, Tony and I hung out more. I was a year ahead of him school wise, and light years ahead of him, maturity wise. He was a real cool dude, but just young acting. He was a singer, while I rapped at the time. I can't remember when he started dating Leslie. I do remember that Leslie was a bad chick. She was hella intelligent, and had that cute in high school/sexy in college vibe going on. I met her a couple of times, when she came back to Savannah on winter break and stuff. I remember thinking, why does she want to be with Tony? That wasn't hate, but to me, she was just on a whole nother level than my friend was at the time.



As time went on, Tony would tell me about other girls he was messing with. I don't think I ever verbalized what is obvious to me now: what about Leslie? It was bros before hoes. Whatever my homeboy had to do, I had his back. One time he got caught up in Lockett Hall after lockdown (men weren't allowed in the female dorms after 9, or in the rooms ever.) when he was supposed to be meeting Leslie. Well, he couldn't call her from another female's room, so he called me to be his alibi. Yep, I came through for him. I called and told her that we were in the studio and Tony was laying down tracks and would be late. A sorry lie, but it seemed to work. It bought enough time for him to sneak out of the dorm without getting caught by campus police and then go meet Leslie. In retrospect, I should have felt bad, but I didn't really know her. My loyalty lied with my homeboy.



I started to see more and more of Leslie. My girl, Lisa and I double dated with Tony and Leslie, or tripled with Kareem and Chandra. We all became a little clique. Lisa, who always thought that Tony was a clown, became closer with Leslie. For the first time, I started to get to know her, and actually see her as a real person. And it was pretty fucked up. She obviously wasn't happy with how Tony was treating her. One night we went out to eat at Bennigans, (home of the buffalo skrimp. LOL) and Tony was just acting an ass, as usual. It wasn't malicious, it just was him being immature. Leslie busts out crying and runs to the bathroom. Lisa of course follows her and they are gone for like an hour. I took the opportunity to politic with Tony. The convo went a little like this.



"Nigga, what are you doing?"

"What you mean?"

"With Leslie, man. You know what I'm talking about."

"She's just so emotional, dog! I didn't even do anything."

"You know you my nigga, right? But on the real, you kinda treat her like shit."

"No, I don't"

"Maybe you don't mean anything by it, but you tend to belittle her. Straight disregard what she has to say"

"Word? I don't do that, do I?"

"Like I said, you my nigga for life and I got yo back, but you need to handle that."

"Yeah, you right."

"I'm just saying, regardless of what you do when she in Statesboro, when she's here..."

"Yeah, aiight. Thanks, man. You keeps it real, kid"



Later that night, as I'm driving Lisa home, I had the most uncomfortable conversation to date in that relationship.



"Leslie thinks Tony is cheating on her."

"Huh?"

"Is Tony cheating on Leslie?"

"..."

"Well?"

"I don't really think we should be getting involved in their business."

"So, he is!!!"

"I ain't say all that, but it really isn't our place."

"So you would take up for him while he's breaking that poor girls heart?"

"Come on, that's not fair. Tony is my brother since like 10th grade. I don't even know Leslie like that."

"But you know how its affecting her"

"Okay, while you guys were in the bathroom, we had a little talk. I told him he needs to do better."

"You still didn't answer if he's cheating on her."

"You know I don't lie to you, right?"

"I thought you didn't, but now I'm not sure"

"Well I'm not gonna lie to you now."

"Okay, continue"

"Tony got some issues that he needs to work out. I'm not saying what they are, but hopefully tonight served as a wake up call."

"Uggghhh"



That night, we didn't go back to Lisa's room like we usually did after a date. Instead, I was dismissed and sent home. Man, how someone else's cheating get me in trouble? Maybe I needed to rethink this whole bros before hoes thing.



I'll pick this up tomorrow... Don't get mad, you know it was getting too long. LOL You know all this was the build up, the drama will come in the next post.

Somebody Give Me Something To Complain About

Quick, give me something to complain about. I mean, if everything is going well, what will I have to write about? What do I do with all this sarcasm bubbling up inside me? Who am I if I don't have any vitriol to spew? I guess I should be happy being happy. I had another great weekend. I know that sounds funny coming from me. I never talk in superlative terms, but I think that's just the word to describe it. Even minor setbacks didn't get me down, and I'm actually looking on the bright side of things. Who is writing this post? Surely, its not Rashan.

Friday was a good day. Although I didn't do everything in the order I thought I was going to do it, and I didn't go to sleep at all, I managed to run all my errands and still be alert and on time for my date with PHD. It was raining Garfield and Scooby-Doo, and PHD was running late from getting her hair done, but the restaurant held our reservations and we wound up having a good time. We hung out with the maybe-weds who are not, I repeat, not getting married in Vegas like they were supposed to. I am glad that I didn't get my ticket, because they would have either gotten married or gotten murdered if I flew across the country. They couldn't even get mad at my new nickname for them, cuz its true. PHD and I are trying to get them to stop planning a wedding and just take there collective ass to the courthouse and get hitched already. We offered to be witnesses if they would just go ahead and take the plunge. Besides hearing that news, the rest of the night was lovely. PHD had a good time on day one of her three day birthday weekend, so mission accomplished. We already have plans for next week, but I don't know what they are yet. It's her turn to plan, so I guess I'll let you know what's up when I find out. She says its a "girly" date. I don't know what the hell that means, but I am NOT getting my nails did. LOL

Saturday, I went to the baby shower for my brother and sister in law. It was cool. It was almost like old times with me and my brother. I don't think I ever wrote about it, but there had been a little tension between us two over the last year. We just haven't been talking like we used to, but since my family has a "don't ask, don't tell" policy, we never talked about it. Maybe I was imagining it, but it was definitely noticeable to me. We just kicked it, like we did in the old days when he used to sleep on my couch and we would watch bad B movies on Black Starz. (The dude on the Stev.e Harv.ey radio show, T.homas M.iles was in two of our favorite horrible Black movies... Thu.g L.ife and F.ifth Wa.rd. These movies are so bad they are good. What up J, if you reading this.."I got to find Mecca!!!") I watched some baby shower games, (cuz I was not going to participate), saw some funny sights (grown twins who still dressed alike) and heard some conversations that illustrated just how far outside of the church world I am ("Jua.nita Byn.um's husband had a demon in him. That's why he beat her up." Like he can't just be a effed up man.) Again, normally a comment like that would have made me talk some shit, but I let it go and kept having a good time.

After spending most of the day out there, and not sleeping the previous day, I wasn't really in the mood to check out the African party. I came home and crashed instead of going back out. I'm really glad I didn't go, cuz the girl that invited me told me today in her Kenyan accent "you shoulda come. I wanted to introduce you to my mother." Umm, no thanks. Besides, sleep was probably the best course of action for me. I was sleep by 11, only waking up to occasionally respond to PHD's text messages as she was out with her girls. I woke up refreshed after getting some good, crazy dream sleep. And then it happened.

Sunday around noon, I was on the phone with, well you know who I was on the phone with, when the call waiting came through. It was a Savannah number. Now, I don't really know anyone in Savannah anymore besides my family, and this number was unfamiliar. I decided to answer it. To my utter shock, it was my friend Kareem. If you read this blog at all, you are probably instantly familiar with Kareem. In all my stories about my past hi jinx and close calls with death, Kareem was there. It must have been at least 5 years since I talked to him. I had decided to estrange myself from him as he got deeper in the drug scene, and I, well, I just wasn't. I don't feel like typing all the whole story out now, so read this if you need further background information. It's ill, because about a year ago, I had decided that I needed to find him, but once I found out where was I never pulled the trigger. His mom and my mom talked, and I finally gave her the go ahead to give Kareem my number. Call it self preservation, I just needed to make sure he wasn't gonna relapse again, before I resumed out friendship.

Well, I talked to him and he sounded like he really had his life on the right track. He started by apologizing and making amends like they do in AA on television. He's engaged, taking care of his daughter, got a job, and even a car. That may not seem like much to you, but if you know like I know, him having a car is like me writing a happy post with no complaining. It's some seriously rare stuff. Kareem was the last male friend I have had, and it was kinda like old times. Normally, my cynical ass would be giving him the side glance, all suspicious and shit, but I honestly believe that he has turned his life around. He asked me to be best man in his wedding next year, which I have to think about. But I do think that we might be able to get past all the drug shit, and just be like brothers again. Wish me luck with that.

Like I said, no complaints at all. This weekend has been excellent. I didn't even trip when I had to go to work this afternoon. I took it all in stride. I hope someone gives me something to complain about otherwise, I got nothing else to write about for the rest of the week. This post got long as hell, and for that I apologize, but it is what is. I hope you all had a great weekend as well.

A-B-Cya!!! (Still bringing back the old school joints!)

Rashan Jamal

Whatever Happened to Truth Hurts?

Whatever happened to Truth Hurts? Remember she had that song "Addictive" and was on Dr. Dre's record label, then released another album with Raphael Saadiq? Where the hell has she been? Before you start thinking that was just another random question left over from my last post, I mention "Truth Hurts" for a reason. That's one of those over used cliches, but it's really applicable when it comes to my life. So, in the interest of (semi) full disclosure, here is the truth... I don't know how to relate on a friendship level. I've had several conversations in the past week about friendship, and I've drawn the conclusion that I am a terrible friend sometimes, and I probably will always be. I say that because although I can see that my words and/or actions are hurting people's feelings, I don't have any desire to change.

First Conversation: I don't want to share all my personal shit with other people. I think it's partly because I am a private person (BTW, I know that is a contradiction for someone who blogs). It's also partly because I don't like to be in a vulnerable position. Consequently, I don't always share when I'm going through something. Finally, I think I just don't trust people to handle it properly. If I need to talk about something, it's really just to get it out of my system, it's not because I need you to fix it, or that I'm going to ask you for a favor. The times when I've shared my inner most personal problems in the past, I've been burned. Either I wasn't taken seriously, or people weren't there for me like they said they would be, or even worse. I have adopted a fool me once, shame on you, fool me five times, shame on me philosophy. If it makes it any better, I am an excellent listener, even if I don't talk.

Second Conversation: My blog gets me into trouble. I have to walk a fine line between revealing my feelings and self censoring to avoid hurting other peoples feelings. Friends seem to like it when I tell it all, unless they recognize themselves in something I write. Then its "I can't believe you told them that." Or if I take the other approach and leave information out, then they don't feel important. I can't please them all either way, so I just have to do me and say what I want to say, and not say what I don't want to say. Which leads me to my point: I have alienated two friends with one post. In my last post, I had a sentence with a edited thought. It was just one of many sentences in the post, but the one that both of these women chose to key in on. They wanted to know what I was talking about, but I didn't want to tell them. It was a private thought that was not for public consumption, otherwise I would have just typed it out and not gone through the trouble of disguising it. Apparently, that's not something that friends do. Friends are supposed to tell each other everything. Well, I can't do it. If that makes me a bad friend, then so be it. Never mind that each of these women have secrets of their own that I'm sure they don't go around telling all their friends and family. If I wanted to tell you, then I would have. It's as simple as that.

Third Conversation: I have a slick mouth. Everybody knows that. I also am a stubborn person. Everybody knows that too. It maybe a cop out, but it is what is. I am who I am. In the face of ultimatums, I'm not going to respond the way you want me to. I don't have that compromise gene in me. I mean, I'll compromise for my woman, but if you aren't that, then you don't get that side of me. Remember, I'm always right even when I'm wrong. While I can understand where other people come from, ultimately, I am going to do me. Even when I try my damnedest not to say something, it eventually will come out. I will bring up old shit or make the smart comment to illustrate my point, I will tell you that this is the way its gonna be, and if you don't like it, then you need to not call me anymore. I can acknowledge that that is not the best way to sustain a friendship, but that is the way that it is, the truth.

Even as I type this, I already can predict what's going to happen. Let me get my Miss Cleo on for a minute: I'll get 3 or 4 text messages asking who I'm talking about. I'll get a hurt phone call at around 10:30 AM telling me not to do it like that. I'll get an angry phone call around 12:30 pm calling me a mean fucker. And I won't be remorseful or sorry that I wrote this. It was necessary. Because the truth hurts... and the truth is I'm an asshole sometimes, and there's nothing any of us can do about it. If you can look past that, I'll be the best friend you'll ever have.