Conversation With Mom

"How's Jameil?"

"She's good."

"You guys are hanging in there, huh?"

"Yeah, 7 months."

"Wow, that's good for you. I'm glad you finally have someone that's on your level."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad she's not like all those other girls that used to follow after you."

*laughs*

"She seems like she's not the type to just give you your way all the time."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I'm happy for you. You guys are cute together. I saw that picture on Facebook."

"Thanks."

"Tell her I said hello."

"Will do."

Operation: Outdo My Mom*

Yo, my moms is 60 years old. She got all kind of stuff I don't have. She got a blackberry. She got a Wii. She got GPS. She got kids. She got just about every modern thing that you can think of. But one thing I will NOT let her have is more Facebook friends than me.

Right now, it's close. I only got her by 5. Now, I could do the thing where I just ask anybody to be my friend, but I'm not gonna do that. Or I could look up old girlfriends and people that I went to school with, but I'm not gonna do that either. My anti social tendencies, however, are making me dangerously close to losing to my mom on the facebook joint. My nephew already has way more friends than me, but I can take that. He's from the internet generation. But my mom? For real? (Can I just tell you how much I was trippin when she sent me a friend invite? I was like, great, guess I have to watch what I say now. Good thing she don't know about my blog. LOL.) I admit, I only joined the book so I could look at people's pictures and make snarky comments about them, but now I kinda like it. But what's important right now, is that I have more Facebook friends than my mother....

So, if any of you bloggers are on the book and are looking to boost your numbers, look me up visionz74@yahoo.com. Or just search Rashan Jamal and I'll be the first choice to pop up. You'll see my picture. I promise *fingers crossed* not to make snarky comments about your pictures. Also, don't be alarmed if I don't respond right away. I may not recognize you and will have to make sure you ain't one of my old stalkers trying to rekindle a friendship that existed only in their minds. LOL

Come on, help me outdo my mother... Please?!?!?*

*this post is intended to be tongue in cheek, but in all actuality, I do wanna have more friends than my mother. LOL*

Stressed

I'm stressed and I don't know how to deal with it. I'm usually the type that let's things roll of his back, but it's not working now. Everyday I go to work, I feel like it may be my last. I try to take it in stride, but whenever I wake up in the morning and see my company's name in the news, or see how the stock is tanking or see that a competitor is laying off 730 people right down the street from me, I just get a knot in my stomach. I get worried, and I'm not the one to worry about stuff. I just can't shake it.

I think maybe it's not so much the jacked up economy as it is real life situations that are getting to me. A few weeks ago, my grandmother was sick, which in itself is enough to make me lose it. Everybody has that one person in their family that means everything to them. Well, my grandma is that to me. She's fine now, turns out to just be vertigo, as opposed to the stroke that they originally thought it was, but for a while I was really worried about her. The thing that made it even worse, was that I didn't find out until a week later. Nobody bothered to tell me that my grandmother was rushed to the hospital. I was so mad at my family, but before I could even confront them...

I found out that my mom's husbands mother died. I didn't really know her, but it wasn't exactly the right time to start an argument. Then the following week, my mom's husband went in the hospital. This time they told me right away. It's really messed up. He has cancer and has stopped taking the radiation because it wasn't working. He has stuff on his lungs and his brain. This is like the 3rd time in the last 5 years that his cancer has come back and this time it looks like it's the end. They are throwing out words like hospice and making him comfortable, but I don't know what's gonna happen. I'm sad for my mother. I can hear her trying to be strong, but I can also hear the grief in her voice. I'm worried about what's gonna happen if he dies. I worry about the family drama that might ensue after he's gone. I worry about how she's gonna raise an 8 year old child by herself at age 60. Mostly, I'm just worried.

I don't even know what the point of this post was. I don't usually talk like this. I don't like this feeling and I hope it passes quickly. I know it's only human to go through this, but I'm not used to it. All I wanna do when I get home is sit around and drink. Don't worry, I'm not doing it, but it would just be easier than dealing with this stress. I hate this feeling of being helpless.

You, Ma'am, and Your Husband...

... are bad parents. I know what you are going to say. I don't have kids, so who am I to judge? Well, let me answer that for you. I'm a human being. And I have common sense, which apparently, along with basic decency is something you lack. Besides, it's your own fault for telling all your business all unsolicited like that...

So, you and your husband fight. It happens all the time. I'm not saying you should stick together, but for you to just leave the state and not tell your kids where you are going, when you are coming back or if they will ever see you again is NOT acceptable. And you wonder why once you finished going through your "mess" they are reluctant to open up to you. It's not natural for a mother to abandon her kids like that. I don't care what you say, you will not get me to understand that. Let's be clear, if your husband has custody, that's acceptable. For you to not know anything about what's going on in their lives for three years, thats unacceptable. And now you want to be part of their lives again? I pray that they give you a second chance, but I don't blame them if they don't.

Now, your husband? He's an equally piece of crap parent. I understand it may be tough to care for two children on your own, but suck it up. Women do that every day. Get some help, or get over it, but do NOT under any circumstances, abandon your children who have just been abandoned by their mother. Seriously??? You leave your kids with your ex-mistress after you break up? She is not their mother. How in the world could you just dip out on your kids and leave them with a woman they barely know? That is some bull. So, let's just get this straight. 2 kids... mother left them...father left them... How can the two of you live with yourselves?

You, ma'am, and your husband are bad parents. Scratch that, you are bad people. Think I'm being harsh? So what! The opinion of someone who could do that to their kid means nothing to me.

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!!!

What Up Cuz? What Up Blood?

Sunday, I went to my cousin’s house. She has lived about 20 minutes away for the last few years, but this is the first time I’ve been there. I’ve seen her in Savannah, but never since she moved to Atlanta. I was taking my sister by so she could buy a car from her. You remember, her joint got stolen from in front of my crib. Anyway, I have only 3 first cousins, and I hardly know or see them. In fact I can count on one hand, how many times I’ve seen them in the last 11 years. Once at my college graduation/mom’s wedding way back in 1997. Once at my brother’s wedding. Once at one of my cousin’s Steve's wedding. And then in June for my mom’s 60th birthday party. And this isn’t like I’m seeing all of them at one time. It’s usually just one or maybe 2 at a time. Growing up we had our family functions and summer vacations together. We were pretty close, as close as you can be when you live in different states. But around adolescence stuff started to change.

We just were, and I guess are, different types of people. I played football, they played soccer. I liked-ed Lisa Turtle on “Saved By The Bell”, they were Zack or Kelly fans. I rocked out to Public Enemy, them Pearl Jam (although I did like them too, its just a metaphor). They lived in a big house in Virginia, and we stayed with Grandma in a normal sized 3 bedroom house. It isn’t that I don’t like them, it’s just that I don’t know really know them or what they are about. I hear people who have great relationships with their cousins and wonder what that’s like. I guess it’s not too late to get to know them, but you know how I am. I can only make a minimal effort, especially if they aren’t making one either. I don’t know what the point of this was, just thinking out loud I guess. It’s pretty sad when my cousin’s children don’t know who I am.

Thursday Thirteen: Things Me and My Brother Say!

Me and my brother have our own language sometimes. Most of it is from TV shows or movies that we watched together over the years. Here are 13 of our favorite sayings that most people wont get:

Thursday Thirteen: 13 Things Me and My Brother Say!

1. Chato will take you to the Airstrip: From this tv show called Kingpin about Mexican drug kingpins. Chato was a viscious killer. That phrase right there meant you were about to meet Jesus, and I’m not talking about the Mexican bodyguard either.

2. Ow, my liver!!! Came from Beavis and Butthead. We used to watch that all the time. That episode stuck with us for some reason.

3. I gots to find Mecca ! – Mecca was a guy. The movie was called Thug Life and it starred Nephew Tommy from the Steve Harvey show before anybody knew who he was. The Lady of Rage (remember Afro Puffs) was in it too. This movie was horrible, or should I say horribly entertaining. It was such a bad movie, that me and my brother couldn’t stop laughing at it. There was also a gang scene in which the gang members chanted… KILL KILL KILL –REVENGE!!!!. I recommend if you ever have about 84 minutes to waste to check this movie out. But only if it comes on cable. Hilarious.

4. Brother’s don’t shake hands, brother’s gotta hug! – Chris Farley in Tommy Boy. What’s so funny is that my brother and neither hug nor shake hands. We adhere to a very strict no touching policy unless violence is involved. LOL. We also like "Fat Guy in a Little Coat"

5. Hello, QVC? This one requires a video companion. Brian Fellow off Saturday Night Live is hilarious. It’s nothing for me to call my brother and when he answers say “Hello, QVC…It’s Brian Fellow. I want to buy a birdcage with solid gold bars." Forgive me, I’m having a moment. I'M BRIAN FELLOW!!!

6. Hey son… wanna see my missles? Followed by “No I never want to.” Okay, let me explain. When my brother was like 6 or 7, he drew this picture of a big monster talking to a little monster. That was the caption. I verbalized the characters for him. The first guy had a gruff abrasive voice. The little one had a innocent baby voice. It still cracks me up and right now I’m realizing that you are just blinking at your computer screen like this dude has lost it.

7. Can I borrow your… The object of this one is to think of the most obscure or unlikely thing for the other to have. For example, Can I borrow your.. Celine Dion boxset? Or can I borrow your first edition of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice? Try it, its fun...

8. Man, ain’t no eagle! Read this post for a greater explanation. But the eagle was some money that was supposed to be coming our way.

9. You don’t have the largest arms in wrestling cuz I have the largest arms in wrestling. We used to watch WWE all the time and there are tons of hilarious sayings. This was one of the most ridiculous. Scott Steiner vs Triple H. Another favorite is TAKER... You haven't broke me.. I'm still standing...

10. Can it be babies? - From Buffy the Vampire Slayer. There was a guy that got turned into a troll. He liked to eat babies. I'm aware how strange this sounds, but it's really funny. I know in real life, baby eating is frowned upon, but its just a tv show. It's funnier if you actually see the clip, but here's the surrounding dialogue. Its a line that we always repeat when one of us says he's gonna get something to eat.

11. You gonna help me sell these guns? - Another horrible hood movie called 5th Ward. I can't even remember why dude was selling guns, but he really needed his friend to help him. Cracks me up!

12. But I’m the one holding the box - This was from the TV show Alias. Quentin Tarentino was guest starring as a guy that was torturing people. He used this phrase to mock his victim...

13. Men and women are different - Our way of mocking the mediocre to terrible Comic view comedians that all seem to tell the same joke about how men and women are different.

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

Six - Tee

New Post at 1 PM EST...

Nikki: Mom wants you to write something for her birthday party.

Me: Okay...

Nikki: She says none of your biting satire or anything that'll make her feel bad.

Me: Word? How about if I'm sarcastic to someone else?

Nikki: I brought that up. She says none. Also don't mention the word "Sixty" in it.

Me: Well, what am I supposed to write? She's kinda handcuffing me. You can't put restrictions on my genius.

Nikki: (laughs) I don't know. Figure it out.

Me: There will be absolutely no poetry. What does she want me to write a short story or something?

Nikki: I don't know.

That was an excerpt from a conversation I had last night with my sister. On June 13th, my moms is turning the big 6 Oh. See, I didn't mention the verboten word. She's having a party in Savannah, and of course I will be going. I was hoping to just be the cameraman, but now I have a role to play. She wants all of her children and grandchildren to do something at the party, but umm I'm at a loss. See, the problem is I don't do sentimental very well. I sometimes wonder how I could actually be related to this woman that cries at commercials and gets weepy at the drop of a dime. I must really take after my father in that realm. I don't have a clue of what I can write about. Sure, I can do like I do on my blog and tell stories, but I can't really think of any right now. All of my stories are filled with debauchery, or embarrassment, or frustration. I've been wracking my brain to come up with an appropriate make my mom cry story. Or maybe I can do a fiction story, but all of those are ironic or not necessarily appropriate for telling in front of moms and grandma, not to mention the myriad of friends and family that will be in attendance. I simply DO NOT DO INSPIRATIONAL!!! I don't even like inspirational movies. But that's a post for another day. I don't know. I'll figure something out I guess.

Also, what do you get the woman that has everything and/or refuses to tell you what she wants. I've been thinking about this for months, but I haven't come up with anything. Well, that's not exactly true. She did hint around that she wanted to go to the Tina Turner concert in November. Unfortunately, by the time my sister dragged this info out of her, of course the tickets were sold out. I checked some of the scalper websites and tickets are going for like $600 each. I love my mother, but I'm not sure I'm trying to pay $1200 for her birthday. I mean, she know I'm broke. LOL. Plus, I know ain't no way my brother is gonna kick in anything substantial. And my sister ain't got no job except homeschool teacher right now. We'll see what I can come up with, but I'm open for any suggestions. No really, tell me what to buy. Okay, have a good day, and I'll holla at you all later.

Confessions: I Hit A Girl

The rage boiled in my throbbing brain and before I knew it, I was grabbing her. Fists balled up, I let loose with a left hand that landed squarely on her temple. I knew I was not supposed to put my hands on a female, but I had to assert myself as a man. No more would I tolerate her disrespect...

I'm getting ahead of myself. If you read my comments on Diva's post yesterday, then you already know what I'm writing about. This isn't some domestic violence story; its the story of how me and my sister became cool. I guess I should start at the beginning...

My sister had terrorized me for as long as I can remember. She is two years older than me and always asserted her role as the oldest. My role as the younger brother meant that she could antagonize me whenever the mood struck. It could be something as simple as turning off the Atari when I was about to beat her high score or something as violent as throwing a can of soup at my head. I remember once when we still lived in New York, she tore my Whodini poster off the wall for no good reason (that I can remember.) When I had the nerve to talk back about it, she ripped it to shreds, laughing at me with her friend Sherri. That's what I lived with for many years. I seem to remember her also banging my head on a coffee table, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hurt I felt at being humiliated by my sister.

All my life, I was told not to hit girls. Matter of fact, I don't know if it was something that had to be told to me more than once. For the most part, I was a good kid and never overtly disobeyed my mother's life lessons. So, instead of fighting back when my sister slapped both my ears and yelled "Stereo!", I just took it. For 13 long years, I was her punching bag. Until this Wednesday night in Savannah, Georgia.

I remember it was a Wednesday because Magnum PI was on. That was my favorite show at the time. It came on at the same time as Dynasty, her favorite show. By this time, we had escaped from New York and were living in the Dirrrty at my grandmother's house. The house was full of 4 generations of women: Grandma Cleo (my great grandmother), my grandmother, my mother and my sister. Throw in me and my little brother, and we had a packed 3 bedroom house. We didn't have our own bedrooms. My sister slept in the living room, I slept in the family room, Lord knows where my brother slept: I think in the room with my mother. Over the years, we had many different sleeping arrangements, from couches, to sofa beds, to cots, to palettes on the floor. I guess that's why I can sleep anywhere now. I don't need a bed to fall asleep, I didn't really have my own until I was in my 20's. But I digress, although its not a total digression, because I needed you all to get the picture of how the house was laid out. There was no privacy, no retreating to your bedroom when you got an attitude. I suppose we could have gone to the garage to sulk, but with the flying roaches and the Savannah humidity, that was really a last option. Let me move on...

At the time, the only color tv that we had access to was in the family room. My sister and I used to fight to get control of the TV after Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy went off and my grandmother retreated to her room (which by the way had a TV with cable.) We had to be pretty sneaky to be the first in the room. Whoever finished their homework first, was more than likely gonna be handed the remote after Alex Trebek dipped. This Wednesday night, I was the victor. I watched Unsolved Mysteries at 8 o clock, but was really just waiting for Magnum to come on at 9. I had control of the TV, the night was mine. At 8:57, my sister came in the room and grabbed the remote from me. She turned to channel 4 like she was gonna watch Dynasty.

Normally when this would happen, I would just go to the other room and watch Magnum on the cheap black and white TV with the rabbit ears. But this night, something came over me. I didn't want to acquiesce to my sister. I wanted to watch Magnum on the big TV. I earned it. I sat through the local news with that annoying Dou.g We.athers as well as Wheel and Jeopardy and darnit, I was in control of the TV (that was the phrase we used.) Why should my big sister just waltz in here and take what I rightfully earned? She's been doing this my whole life, but enough is enough.

At first I told her to give me the remote. Not surprisingly she refused. This went on for a few minutes. "Gimme the remote" "No" "Nikki, Gimme the remote" "No." Then I decided to take it by force. At 13, I was bigger than she was at 15 and I figured I could just snatch it from her. How bout she had a death grip on that remote. It took far more effort than I thought to get it from her, but I finally did. I turned to channel 9 and just caught the opening credits of my show. Thinking it was over, I sat back on the sofa and relished my small victory. That's when Nik walked up to the tv, and unplugged it. Word? You gonna do it like that? I was getting mad. I went and plugged the tv back in, leaving the remote in the spot that I was just sitting. She picked it up and turned right back to Dynasty. Another struggle ensued; Her gripping the remote, me trying to pry it out of her hands. And then she did it... My loving sister swung the remote control at me. This was like 1988 and it wasn't one of those small ones that are out now. It was a huge, industrial strength remote. And it hit me right upside my head.

The rage boiled in my throbbing brain and before I knew it, I was grabbing her. Fists balled up, I let loose with a left hand that landed squarely on her temple. I knew I was not supposed to put my hands on a female, but I had to assert myself as a man. No more would I tolerate her disrespect. I threw punches like a madman, some landed, others missed. I wasn't really hitting Nikki, I was punching away the years of torture I experienced at her hands. When it was over (and I can't remember who broke it up) I felt relieved. I didn't get to watch Magnum that night, but I got something that much better: my dignity!

From that point on, my sister and I have been mad cool. I can't recall a single argument after that day. We actually became friends. I remember when I went to high school, she was a junior. There was a tradition at my high school that the upper classmen would take the freshmen's drawers. It was kinda like a wedgie, except they would pull them so hard that the elastic band would break. It always seemed kinda gay to me, but that was what they did. I didn't have to worry about anybody trying me, because my sister had her friends look out for me (well, that and the fact that I dressed in all black and kept a mean mug like Cube and 'em for my entire freshman year.) When she went to college at Spelman, I used come to Atlanta to hang with her and her cool college friends. When I was a broke college kid, her and her boyfriend at the time drove to Savannah, to pick me up for a Prince concert and then drove me back the same night so I could take my finals. When I moved to Atlanta, she let me and my girl stay with her until we got on our feet. The list can go on and on. We really have been nothing but cool since that night.

Although we have our Don't ask, Don't tell policy, I know that if I ever need anything, Nikki has my back. And that goes both ways. Whatever she needs, she got it. I wonder if we would have been this cool if I never fought back and let her run over me for my entire life. And that's the story of how one night changed my relationship with my sister forever.

BTW, I know I went a little link crazy with all the YouTube joints...

Day 1 of 3

I'm typing this fresh off of some drank, so forgive me if I start rambling. I'm not drunk by any means, but I can still feel it just a tad...

So, I'm in the midst of a 3 day weekend. I'm off Friday, Saturday and Sunday and I couldn't be happier. Although work is not really stressing me and there are some cool people that I've gotten to know at work over the last couple of weeks, I would much rather be NOT working. I'll take that R and R any day. Today, wasn't exactly what I would call relaxing, but it was cool nonetheless. The first thing I did today was to watch Lost and Grey's Anatomy on the computer. Lost was good, but not as good as the last few episodes. Re: Greys...Jam, you were right, I didn't like that crap. I mean, I get what they were going for, but the whole episode seemed wack, not just the part with Private Twan. The whole subplot with the dating disclosures was far fetched too.


Oh yeah, the whole point of talking about watching these shows was so I could tell you about what had happened the other night. So, I've had the same chair at my desk for 3 years. It was a cheap little leather computer chair I copped from Walmart and put together. BTW, I completely have no aptitude for putting stuff together. I can't follow those instructions for anything. Okay, so Thursday morning, I'm sitting at computer trying and failing to finish my Questions post. It's 4 AM and I'm a little sleepy. I'm not comfortable in my chair, so I lean over to the right. In doing so, I completely flipped over the chair and fell on my ass. I just sat there for a few minutes, like did this really happen? I swear it was the funniest thing and if I had video, I would definitely share it. In the course of my fall, I broke the chair handle. Pictures below.... So, my chair is broken, so what do I do? I turned my love seat around and pushed it in front of the computer. LOL. It doesn't look good, but it sure is comfortable. LOL



The chair was old, but I'm cheap. I don't want to buy another one. We'll see how long I can roll with the love seat thing...

Okay, so after the computer tv watching thing, I go to get a haircut. The guy that cut my hair last time was leaving to get lunch so I went to this other cat. He did an all right job, but not like last time. Last time's cut was extra fresh, this one was more run of the mill. He also cut too much off the top. I'm trying to get my curly afro game popping and he set me back a couple of weeks. I left the barbershop and went to my least favorite place on earth: the mall. I went to Northlake cuz it's close and they have a Macy's there. Usually I can go in Macy's, find what I want and jet without stepping foot into the rest of that godforsaken place. Today was no exception. Copped a few summer shirts, some replacement work pants, and some smell good and bounced within 25 minutes. I realized I forgot to get shoes after I left, but that will have to wait until I feel like darkening the malls doorstep again. Here are pictures of my post haircut camera whoring...



Ignore the off brand lotion in the forefront. You probably didn't even notice until I said something. I think this is the only picture I've posted that features more than just my head and shoulders.


My head and shoulders...

Later that afternoon, I hung out with my family. All of my nephews and my niece were there. My brother came through with the little one. We played and watched Elmo in Grouchland on HBO On Demand and the big kids played on my computer. Nothing special, but just real cool to be able to have them all together. Might be the last time I see them all together before they move to Savannah... Maybe not... Regardless...Here are more and more pictures...



Me and all the kids...


Carlin, Dominique and Justin. This a temporary tattoo on Carlin's arm. It's not a horrible burn caused by a neglectful uncle. LOL


Me, Carlin and Just Blaze... This was take 47, I think. Kids wouldn't look at the camera.

That leads to the nighttime maneuvers. I went out. I hung out with Kristie for awhile. Her fiancee was there too for a minute, but he was with his coworkers and they left before we did. Got nice and buzzed. Had some good laughs, had some real talk, hurt some feelings... you know a typical Friday night. Then a little later, I hit up another spot for a little while to hang out with some co workers. Interesting developments there. You know how people sometimes act differently in public than they do at work? For the most part, everyone maintained their personalities which was cool. No crazy belligerent, can't handle their liquor tirades... at least while I was there. Those could have happened before I arrived since I was mad tardy. Anyway, I hung out with my young homegirl from work and another cool girl for most of the time I was there. Had some more drinks, talked a little trash, got a little flirty, broke one of my rules... Good times... We'll see if things are still all good when I go back to work on Monday.

I may have been feeling the drink when I first started, but I'm good now. Hopefully tomorrow will be another day filled with good stuff. Have a great weekend!!!

Word??? Spring, You Gonna Try Me Like That?

We just talked about this, Spring! Matter of fact, I'm not speaking to you anymore. Consider yourself cut off. I'm gonna talk about you to my blog fam. They always have my back, whereas you always be trying a brotha..

Man, Spring tried to steal my joy this weekend, but couldn't do it. Saturday was one of those days that last year woulda messed with my head. I'm driving around like I always do when the four walls start moving in on me. I get in my car and I'm chatting on the phone with one of my "once a month" friends. I bust a right on to Arcadia from Ponce De Leon, and all of a sudden the car jerks to the left. Like all the way into oncoming lanes of traffic. Like if there was actually any traffic, I would have ran directly into a head on collision. I try to correct, but the steering wheel doesn't want to cooperate. I finally manage to get back into the correct lane and fight the steering wheel to get off the road. I didn't know what was going on. I figured the power steering had went out, but not knowing anything about cars except how to put gas in and drive, I wasn't sure. I'm sitting in the K.roger parking lot trying to figure out what to do, when by a stroke of luck, I see a tire shop. Yes, I know that this problem had nothing to do with my tires, but I figured one of the technicians could possibly tell me what was wrong.

I fight the wheel for a little longer until I get to the shop, hazard lights flashing to signify don't get behind me. The guy at the shop pops the hood and tells me that my steering belt has completely popped and also something is wrong with alternator and some other stuff that sounded like Greek to me. He tried to make me feel stupid for a quick minute until I hit him with The Smirk and he backed off. Apparently I was supposed to hear that the belt was about to pop, but yeah, I didn't. Anyway, long story short, they can fix it, but they were closing so they couldn't get to it to the next day. Cool, crisis averted. No big deal. My months of being a miser have left me with enough left over money that the amount they quoted me wasn't stressing me out. Just fix my joint and I'm good.

But then I had to figure out a way to get home. Call my sister.. her cell is off. Call my brother, he's an hour away. Thought about calling some of the homies but they all live on the other side of town, and I didn't want to do that to them. I figured that I could just take a bus home. So, I walked to the nearest bus stop, but those buses weren't going in my direction, not to mention, I didn't know the number of the bus that goes right by my crib. I get the bright idea that I'm gonna walk home. I kinda needed to clear my head, and walking always seems to work. So, I'm walking down the street and then I remember that Lawrenceville Highway is not exactly pedestrian friendly. Only by the time that I actually process this information, I'm already a good 2 miles into my trek, and far past the point where I could stop and call a cab. So I cross the 4 lanes of traffic and keep on walking until I get to N.orth Dek.alb M.all. Did I mention that it was raining? I had an umbrella, (just a basic black umbrella, Stace. No Burberry patterns) but it started raining like crazy. I finally broke down and called a cab. A $10 ride later and I was home.

Getting home, I thought stuff was gonna be better, but Spring decided to play one last cruel joke on me. Why was my internet not working? Com.cast got me. You know the first thing I wanted to do when I got home was to blog about what just happened, but I couldn't. My internet was down until like 6 o clock Sunday evening. The thing that was so stupid about it, is the cable was working, but the internet, not so much. I even missed my standing Saturday night emailing session with Jameil. The lack of interweb was almost as bad as walking home in the rain (but not as bad as paying $592 to get my whip fixed.) Spring couldn't break me though. The car people called me this morning and told me they would fix my ride today (even though I couldn't get it until Monday), the internet was back up when I got home this evening and I'm still in good spirits. Keep it coming, Spring. I'm stronger than you.

On another note, I took my nephew and one of his friends, and my niece to the A.tlanta Ha.wks-New Yo.rk K.nicks game today. It was cool. I actually was rooting against my all time favorite basketball team today, since their chances of being successful ended around the time that they didn't fire Is.iah Tho.mas, and Atlanta still has a chance to get destroyed by the B.oston Celt.ics make the playoffs. Our seats were mad nosebleed, but the way the Ph.illips Aren.a is designed, we saw everything just fine. After the game, the kids got to go on the court and shoot free throws. They had a great time and I felt like super uncle. I also saw a few people I worked with there, so I'm guessing I'll have to actually talk to them when I see them on Monday. When I got home, I watched the Wres.tleman.ia PPV with my brother. It was one of the brother bonding things we used to do every year back in the day, so it was cool to do that again even though I don't really watch wrestling anymore. Sunday was my day to hang with family.

One final note, the other day I wrote about my drunk night out. I called Kristie to fill in the blanks of the evening, since I had some gaps. Apparently, the Haitian was trying to holla at the drunk girl, and I cockblocked him. Oops, my bad. Really, it wasn't intentional but who can resist my charms? these things happen sometimes. LOL I think Kristie was exaggerating, but she told me that we were all touchy feely that night and she thought I was gonna go home with the girl. Also, even though I forgot to get her number, I was straight enough to make sure she got my number as evidenced by a voicemail I got when I was at the basketball game. Now if I could only remember what she looked like. LOL

Okay, I think I have taken up enough of your time with my ramblings. The next Making The Blog is gonna be postponed until Wednesday, so if you haven't completed your assignments, you have an extra day. The rest of you, I'll be by to read what you wrote shortly. Have a good Monday, everybody!!!

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Whenever I tell people about the relationship I have with my brother and sister, they think we are nuts. See, we subscribe to a very simple philosophy: Don't Ask, Don't Tell. No, this isn't some Clintonian gays in the military policy, but really a way of life for us. If you don't ask, I won't tell. It's a simple way to avoid the family drama. You know those families where everybody has an opinion about every choice people make, that is so not us. We never have to worry about being in each other's business. It doesn't work for everyone, but it works for us. For example, I don't know whether my sister is dating the guy that visits her or if they are just friends. She doesn't know if my latest stay on the phone at all times partner is a girlfriend. She didn't even ask any questions when she met PHD. We like it like that. It's not about being secretive, but more allowing each other to live our lives sans interference. It makes stuff easy for us. A few years ago, however, don't ask, don't tell went wrong for me.

It was the summer of '05 and our cousin, Trevor was getting married. He's not a real cousin, but we all grew up together in Spring Valley, New York. His mom and my mom are best friends, and my moms is his Godmother. Technically, he is my god brother, but our families were much closer than we were to our blood cousins. Anyway, the wedding was in Dallas, and my brother, sister and I planned to make the drive out there. Far as I knew, it was just the 3 of us and my sister's 2 kids. Until they showed up at my crib to pick me up. This dude (now my sister's baby daddy) was with them. I was a little taken aback. Nobody mentioned anything about taking dates. I didn't ask. She didn't tell.

We piled in the van and went to pick up my brother. When we got to his crib, he was there with his girlfriend (now wife.) I was wondering why she was there, but it didn't strike me until they started loading their bags in the rental van. Oh, she's coming too? Word? Why ain't nobody tell me? My sister has a date, my brother has a date. Me? Solo. Damn don't ask, don't tell policy. I didn't even know that they were dating anyone, much less seriously enough to take a 10 hour road trip with. Did I mention that I had never met either of them before? It made for a wack van ride. I sat there listening to my cds the entire trip, while they shared banter with their significant others. It sucked... When we finally made it to Dallas, I just chilled in my room for the first night there. I don't know what everybody else was up to, but I was stuck there with no car and no desire to play 3rd or 5th wheel. I felt like somebody should have at least given me the opportunity to bring a date. I actually had someone that wanted to come with me, but I rebuffed her since I thought it was a family trip. That's what I get for thinking, I guess.

The second day, I hooked up with my cousins and their friends and managed to salvage some fun out of the trip. The bachelor party was hot. My brother didn't come through, I guess cuz he was with his woman, and my sister's friend wasn't there, which was actually cool because I didn't have to temper my strip club persona. That was the most money I ever spent in a strip club, but most of it was for my cousin. Our plan was to keep 2 girls in his lap at all times. Between me, his brother, and his homeboys... Mission accomplished. And the talkative stripper from South Africa that was hanging out with me all night... nah, I better not tell that story. LOL. See, more don't ask, don't tell stuff.

The third day had me back to the feeling left out thing. Just about everybody was hooked up at the wedding reception besides me. I probably coulda tried harder with the bridesmaids, (or invited the South African stripper) but the gold teeth and tattoos weren't doing it for me. Not to mention that they all went outside to smoke a blunt at the reception. My moms was there, I couldn't really bring myself to try to chase a weed smoking hoodrat in front of her. It woulda been really cool if I had a girl with me though. Don't ask, don't tell ruined that.

You may ask did we change after that? Not so much. We are still on that don't ask, don't tell stuff. But I know next time we take a trip, I'll have to cast aside my not wanting to know, and ask them straight up if this is siblings thing or a couple thing. I don't want no more surprises like that.

EDIT: PEOPLE WANNA KNOW ABOUT THE SOUTH AFRICAN STRIPPER SO HERE GOES.

We were at this club in Dallas. It was a multicultural thing. Black, White, Latina all kind of girls in there. All night I was pulling strippers to go dance for my cousin since it was his bachelor party. His brother was taking care of him for a minute, so I decided to sit down and get myself a dance. There was this one that had caught my eye, so I gathered up my loot and got my dance. When the song (or maybe it was 2 or 3 songs later LOL) was over, she didn't leave. I thought she was trying to hit me up for more money, but she wasn't. She was like do you mind if I just sit here for a minute. Here was on my lap, so of course I didn't mind. She started talking to me. Normally, I don't really go for stripper talk; I look at it as a business transaction. I pay you, then you leave. Besides, most strippers are usually drunk or high, and I get enough crazy conversations in real life that I don't need it in the club. This one was different. I could tell from her eyes that she wasn't intoxicated, but she certainly was intoxicating. I didn't really look at her face while she was dancing, but she was beautiful.

Her name was Amaya or Imaya or something like that. Even though she wasn't drunk, I was. I can't remember. I found out that she was from South Africa, had been in Dallas for about a year and was going to school for nursing. I know what you are thinking because I was thinking it too. The stripper working her way through college is a myth, but it actually was true. I know because at some point of our conversation, she decided that she wanted me to see pictures of her family. Amaya went to the back and got her wallet, showed me her family pictures as well as her school id. It was weird. Like I said, I usually tune out any stripper talk, since its inherently disingenous and designed to gas up heads, but we actually clicked for a minute. She even bought me a dance from one of her homegirls. When we were getting ready to leave, she told me to call her before I left town so she could show me the city.

Now, I didn't call for a couple of reasons. She had to work Saturday night, and I was going to be at the wedding reception. I was leaving on Sunday anyway. But more importantly, although I'm fairly secure in my stuff, I don't think I could handle being in a situation where other dudes are seeing my girl naked. Sorry, just doesnt work for me. Hypocritical, based on my love of strip clubs, I know, but it is what it is. She did call me once when she was in Atlanta for a weekend, but we could never hook up. Oh well, it just wasn't meant to be.

Now you know the story of Rashan and the South African stripper. She was cool people.

Crazy Morning

I got my tickets to see Ji.ll Sco.tt and Rahee.m DeVau.ghn at the Fabulo.us Fo.x Thea.tre in February. That's the end of the story. Of course since its me, it couldn't be easy. Let me take you back a few hours...

I got the email yesterday telling me that tickets went on sale today at 10AM. Cool, I knew I would be sleep and that I had to wake up before the scalpers bought up all the tickets. So at 5:30 AM when I was preparing to go to sleep, I set my alarm for 9:53 to give me enough time to wake up and then go to the Tick.et.mas.ter website to get my tix. I also bookmarked the page so I wouldn't have to go through all the searching and stuff. I was ready. I went to sleep and everything was all good.

9:53 AM - My alarm goes off. I walk over to my computer and plop down in the chair. I left it on last night. I pulled the internet and.... "this page cannot be displayed." WTF??? Let me try this again. Still no internet.. It's now 9:57. I have cable internet so I try to tighten all the wires and restart the cable modem, but nothing. Its now 10:01. Shit... I'm not trying to pay scalper prices. It's hopeless, this damn internet never goes out, but today the one time I actually made plans dependent on it, I have no service. Aaargh!!!!

Okay, I'm not in any position to be leaving the house. I have sleep in my eyes, probably dried drool and I'm wearing yesterday's work pants that I fell asleep in and are now extra wrinkled. Sure, I could throw on some jeans and head to Pu.b.lix and buy my tickets there, but I have a phobia about going out in public looking like crap. I just know that would be the day when I meet my potential wife and she won't give me a second glance. Anyway, I called my sister and told her what was up and she offered to stop by P.ub.lix and get me the tickets. Phew!!! I thought, but its now 10:15 and I wonder if there will still be tickets left. I sat nervously at my computer cursing it out, even though I should have been cursing out Com.cast. (I just got the internet back at 3 PM). About 15 minutes later, I got the call. They still have tickets. "Is the Orchestra okay? Hell Yeah! Get those for me, I'll pay you back this afternoon."

So long story short. I got my tickets, my sister rocks, and Com.cast sux!!! Now I have two months to find a date. LOL

Me and My Shadow

I couldn't let Jameil outdo me. If she's gonna keep posting, then so will I.

Right now as I type this, my nephew is sleep in my arms. I'm watching while my sister takes a well deserved night out. I did go out on Friday, just in case you were wondering.

Little man is like my shadow. Whatever I do, he does. I was brushing my teeth, and he says "I want teet." I was brushing my hair, and he grabbed another brush and started brushing his. I put on my shoes, he put on another pair of my shoes and started walking around. It's so cute.
We play this little game where he hits me and I say "Ouch" in an animated manner. Then he cracks the hell up. I'll probably have to stop that one soon, since he's getting older and I don't want to encourage him to be a bully, but for now if it makes him happy, it makes me happy.

Now, he did one thing that wasn't cute. He grabbed my cheeks and dug in with his fingernails. He scratched me on my pretty, pretty face. I mean, it was so bad that I actually had blood on my face. Wanna see? You can barely see it in the 1st picture, but he tore the skin off my face. Here are Uncle Rashan and his shadow.

Happy Thanksgiving

It's officially Thanksgiving and I'm about 5 minutes away from leaving work. It's been a slow, long day. I didn't get to sleep until Noon and I had to wake up 2 hours later to get ready for work. As a result, I'm not going straight to Savannah like I planned, unless my sister wants to drive. More than likely I'll sleep for a few hours and then hit the road in the morning. I am really looking forward to seeing my family, especially my grandma. I hope she is in the kitchen right now making her macaroni and cheese. In fact, I don't care what else is served, as long as she makes that. My sister and her little one are riding with me. The big kids will be with their dad. My brother and his family are coming down on Friday. So it will be a mini family reunion.

I called my friend Kareem and let him know I am coming down. We are supposed to get together on Friday. He's really excited for me to meet his fiance and I haven't seen him in years. I guess since its Thanksgiving I should be grateful that he is clean and sober and has his life together. It should be a cool experience. As for the rest of the trip, I'll just try to avoid all the crazy people I knew back then. I actually might hit up some of the Black Friday sales with my Grandma. If anyone is reading this, have a Happy Thanksgiving. Don't eat too much and if you do, make sure you have plenty of air freshener for the bathroom. LOL

One Love

You was my nigga when push came to shove/One what? One Love

Track 7: One Love

I was out in my sun room/storage area yesterday, looking through some old papers, marveling at my genius. Yeah, I was on my own shit, I admit it. I saw a bunch of essays and midterms that I got A's on without reading the book or studying. I read over some of my old lyrics from when I thought I was a rapper. Man, it felt good reminiscing. I had a sappy smirk on my face reading that old stuff. Then I found a journal that I forgot about. I read through it and it read kinda like a blog, except there were no comments, and no filler posts like yesterday. It was just the straight uncut thoughts of 18-19 year old Rashan. I ran across this entry and the emotions came flooding back. Here it is:

October 7th, 1993

I talked my father today, for the first time in nearly two years. He and my mother separated when I was about 8. Since that time, the lines of communication have basically been cut. We used to give each other the courtesy calls on holidays and birthdays, but in the last three years, I realized that he doesn't deserve my respect. My father owes over $30,ooo in unpaid child support for me and my two siblings. He always says that he will send money, but never delivers. The most recent example of his irresponsibility occurred this summer. I need $46 to pay for my tuition. He told my mother he would send it. To this day, I still haven't received the money. If not for the generosity of my friends, I would not be attending classes this quarter. I never ask my father for anything unless it is pertaining to my education. I have been told that I am too proud for my own good, however I don't feel that way. I am, however, too proud to beg. In the first place, I shouldn't have to beg for my father to take responsibility for the children he claims he loves. Secondly, no matter how diligently I have asked in the past, he has never delivered. I have become more responsible because I had to take up the slack of a "Deadbeat Dad. When I become a father, I will be more responsible for my children than my father was for me. No child should have to deal with this.

I've written about my father before, in this post on the old blog. I've been very candid about his drug use, lack of child support payments, and general lackadaisical attitude towards his children. But I have come to reconcile those thoughts. As I got older, I became more understanding of his situation. I never made excuses for his behavior, but I realized that regardless of his faults, he gave me life, and a large part of who I am is because of him. Reading my writing reminds me of his writing. The way that I write on any spare scrap of paper is classic Ricky. Damn, that man's face is just like my face. That man's mannerisms are just like my mannerisms. That man's love of music spawned my love of music. That man's intellect was passed down to me. See, now I know its all One Love. He and I are one.

It made me sad to see the bitterness I had for him. I like to think of myself as being more evolved than to just dismiss my father. It wasn't always like that though. Now, I know I was young, but to think of the time I wasted being bitter sickens me. I wish now that I had more time to just chop it up with him and relate to him as a man. Although we reconciled before he died, I just wish that I had a better relationship with him. I know its not all on me, but when I read over what I wrote on that October day, I had to fight back the tears. Its been 12 years since he passed on, but I still feel the pain occasionally, especially when I read his letters and see myself in him. It's all love, Ricky! One Love!

Next Up: Track 8: One Time 4 Your Mind

Guess What? I Actually Did Something This Weekend

As I sit here at work doing nothing, I might as well get my post outta the way. I actually had a lot going on over the weekend for once. So here's the recap.

Friday, I spent time with the family doing the tourist thing. We took two cars downtown to visit the Aqu.arium and the Co.ke Muse.um. I had the kids with me and my mom and sister (and the baby) rode together. We were supposed to go around 9:00, but procrastination being a family trait, we didn't actually leave until11:00. Had to have breakfast, and get ready, and get a new stroller for the baby (which he refused to sit in most of the day.) For once I didn't get lost on the way downtown, which is another trait embedded in my family's DNA. When we got downtown, I found some cheap parking nearby and walked the kids to the aquar.ium. The line was ridiculous. I was thinking that since the kids were back in school, it would be less crowded, but that wasn't the case. (My niece and nephew are being home schooled and my brother/nephew goes to school in Savannah, and they don't go back until after Labor Day.) The security was also tripping. You couldn't bring anything in. I understand no outside drinks or food or weapons, but they wouldn't even let you bring in gum. I had a fresh pack of Mint Mo.jito Or.bit that just went to waste. But, oh well. We went in and checked everything out. It was pretty cool, but I didn't enjoy myself as much as I did the last time I went. I guess it was just too crowded this time.

After that, we went across the street to the Co.ca Co.la mus.eum. Or should I say the Co.ca Co.la propaganda machine. Man, I haven't heard so much self promotion since I bought the last Kan.ye Wes.t CD. Everything was Co.ke this, Co.ke that. Co.ke saved the world, Cok.e stopped wars, C.oke ended racism. It was just annoying. I hadn't been there since I was in high school, and I guess my mind state is just different now. I felt like they were trying to brainwash me. The best part of the C.oke Mu.seum was the section where you can taste sodas from all over the world. There were some that were good, some that were extremely odious and this one from Italy that tasted like liquid sh*t, or what I imagine sh*t would taste like. The kids had a good time, so that was cool, but I would not recommend the museum for anyone over the age of 15. We left the museum and were going to hang out at Cen.te.nnial Park, but it started raining for a quick second, so we went back to the car and did get kinda lost on the way home. I couldn't find the street I was looking for so I drove around until I saw the highway. I intended to take surface streets, but I had 3 over-caffienated kids in the car with me, so I just went the first way I could find. When we got back home, we got some Italian takeout and then I crashed out.

Saturday, I had a date. I made plans with PhD to go out to dinner and a movie. She lives in Athens, which is about an hour away from me, so I drove out there to see her. When I got there, she showed me around her crib and we talked for awhile, but since neither one of us was hungry, we went to a bookstore for coffee and conversation. Later, we went to see "The Bo.urne Ultim.atum" which was good, but had a few too many "yeah right" moments. I didn't know, but apparently Matt Da.mon is Supe.rman. After the movie, we went and got some food then back to her crib for awhile. I left around 2 and made the hour drive back home, with PHD on the phone. It was cool. I had a good time, and we'll go out again. If you read my old blog, then you know how I would meet someone and then they would be gone by the next week, so I guess I'm making progress. And that's all I'm gonna say about that. I guess I can stop being anti social now and join my co worker's conversation. They are talking about R. Ke.lly and his new "Tra.pped in the Clo.set" videos, which are so bad that I can't stop watching. Even though I wrote this on Sunday, don't be looking for anything else on Monday, this is it. I'll holla at cha on Tuesday. One!!!

The Jamal Family Curse

I think my family has a curse when it comes to automobiles. I've written previously about some of the ill stuff that's happened with me. I had a transmission go out and in the following month after I plopped down $1800 to fix it, had the engine go out. I've also had various tire blowouts in the last year that have left me stranded on the side of highway. Well, its not just me. My brother and sister also have car issues that have plagued us as well.

Most recently, my sister was in a car accident that ripped the entire front of her car off. Luckily, no one was hurt but the car was put out of commission. She decided at that time that she would just take Marta instead of getting a new car. Well that leads us to yesterday. I told you that my mom and nephew/brother were coming up for a visit. Well, my mother has recently had surgery on her neck and foot, so instead of her making the 4 hour drive, my sister rented a car and drove down to Savannah to get her. We've all made the trek to Savannah many times, so its no big deal. I had her older kids with me, and she took the baby with her. About 3 o'clock when I finally woke up, I expected them to be close to being here. My niece told me that my sister was having car trouble and would call me to update me.

I called my sister to find out what the deal was, and learned that Jamal family curse had struck again. While driving her rental car, it was an '07 I think, all of a sudden the speedometer went to zero. A few moments later, the gas gauge went to E, even though she had just filled up the rental car. Fortunately, she was able to make it to the nearest exit, before the car completely shut off. But my sister and her 19 month old son, were stranded with a broken down rental car.

My sister called the rental car company and they came and towed the car to the nearest office, but they didn't have any cars available to replace the broken down jalopy. Well, correction, they did have a cargo van with 2 seats, and another car that had the check engine light on. So my sister had to wait a few hours until they finally had a car returned. She stayed overnight in Savannah and is supposed to come back this morning. I took advantage of her absence to bond with/spoil my nephew and niece. My nephew played Playstation all day, while my niece stayed on my computer forever. If my sister was here, they probably would have had to read a book or something, but Uncle is all about slacking off. I didn't feel like cooking, so we went out to eat at the Olive Garden, where they ordered grown folks food (have you ever heard of an 11 year old ordering minestrone soup?) and helped me flirt with the waitress. And yes, this time, I actually did get the number.

By this time, my sister should be on the way back to Atlanta with my moms and Nate. They already lost a day because of the car trouble, but hopefully there will be no more incidents of the Jamal family curse. It doesn't seem to matter if the car is old, new, borrowed or blue, if something can go wrong with a whip, my family will somehow be involved.

Prodigal Pt 2

Lets see... Where was I? Oh yeah...

Thursday started out with an early morning wake up call. My brother/nephew/step cousin Nate woke me up at about 6:30 in the morning before he went to school. Nate is a 6 year old that my mother and her husband adopted. That makes him technically my brother. But he is really my mother's husband's daughter's son's son. In some strange family tree experiment gone wrong thing, he calls me Uncle. Confusing enough? Anyway, let's move on because my head hurts when I think too hard about the genealogy of this situation. Nate is an extremely hyper child who doesn't understand that Uncle Rashan doesn't do mornings very well. I did my best to hide it, since he was so excited to see me, I brushed off my normal morning crankiness and kicked it with Nate before school. After he left, I went back to sleep and woke up around 11:30.

I forgot to mention one thing. This was the first time I had ever slept over at my mom's house. She got re-married 10 years ago this June, and I had yet to spend the night at her crib. On those rare occasions I do go to Savannah, I always stay at my Grandma's house, since that's where I grew up and feel most comfortable. It's not intended as a slight to my mom, but I just always wind up at Grandma's house. Well, I learned one thing that my mom and grandma's homes have in common: heat. I woke up sweating on top of the covers with a ceiling fan on full blast. I took another shower and after dodging my mother's attempts to feed me, drove across town to see Grandma. As I always do when I'm in Savannah, I took the scenic route. Not that it took much time at all, but I always drive around to see if anything has changed. About the only things that I could see that was different was a new Super WalMart across from Lake Mayer and a few more buildings purchased and renovated by the Savannah College of Art and Design (Yes, I know this means nothing to people who have never been to Savannah, but bear with me.)

I arrived at my Grandmother's house and we talked for awhile. She had been making some upgrades to the house. The ugly brown shag carpet that had been in the house for as long as I could remember was replaced and the walls were freshly painted, but it still felt like home. In fact it seems like I reverted back to the pre cynical jerk Rashan and was the sweet boy that made his Grandmother proud. Maybe, I am just analyzing too much. LOL. Anyway, she was going to get her hair done, so I drove her across town to the hair salon. It felt good just hanging out with her again, and made me rethink my whole not going to Savannah edict. When she was finished, I took her back home and made my way back to my mother's house.

When I got there, Nate was waiting for me at the door. He needed someone to play with I guess. We went out in the backyard and played basketball and ran around. Nate caught frogs with his bare hands and I watched from a distance to make sure they didn't touch me. Did I ever mention that I am afraid of animals? LOL. I was trying to tire him out so my mom could get him to sleep, but that boy has boundless energy. As much as I chased him and roughhoused with him, he never got tired. I can only imagine what my mom is going through every day. I'm only 32 and after one day with Nate, and I was exhausted. After we cleaned up, we played some more with his thousands of toys until it was time for bed. I know my mother was glad to get a break and I was glad to be of some little service. Nighttime came, and I was now left without anything to do for the rest of the night. I started getting restless and thought about going out to look for some of my old partners in crime but thought better of it. Instead, I just watched The Sopranos and The Shield reruns and eventually drifted off to sleep around 4. What would Friday have in store for me?

Okay, this is getting too long again, so I'm gonna call it a night. I'll be back tomorrow with the conclusion of my Savannah trip.