Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Prayers Needed

My father died suddenly in the Dominican Republic yesterday.

I never knew this would hurt so bad.

I loved that man. No, I love that man.

Everything that I am today is because of him.

He was the kindest, most forgiving, loving, intelligent, funniest man I have ever known.

Please pray for me and my brothers Ant and Felix. We are taking this very, very hard.

I am going to miss my Papi.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Who do you tell?

Married life is not that much different than being in a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Or is it?

A Typical day with the Married Scribes.

Every morning my husband and I get up before our kids at about 6am. I say about because he and I both love a damn snooze button. (Whomever made that portion of the alarm clock needs to be shot!) We get ourselves ready. Turn on our car and prepare for the 45 minute drive to work. Have some coffee, talk about our upcoming day and spend time talking about our day. At work he calls me several times a day. Just to say hi and share a quick laugh. Scribe is so good for that. He keeps me in stitches and it’s great that he likes my jokes. I personally think I’m hilarious. After work, we drive home together. This is so mega important. We work out a lot of kinks of our day; discuss what we need to do for the evening and shop together if need be. We come home, take turns cooking for the children and either spend time together or apart, unwinding and relaxing until bedtime.

Did I need to mention sex? Nope. You already know.

But the point that I’m making is that I have a partner in life. Someone who understands a hard day, feelings of a triumphant day, excited, or tired and sometimes just happy to be alive days. I’m sad but extremely glad to say that I know that I got it right this time. We look at each other and compliment the outfit the other has chosen. My husband is so fine. We counsel each other, uplift each other and teach one another everyday.

Although I spend some of my nights, wondering in my dreams, about the chill on my face, then realizing that my face is smushed into the wall. I remember then, that my husband, unconscious in his need to be closer to me, has wrapped me a cocoon of arms and legs to keep me safe. I trip over his shoes constantly. I swear softly to myself and pick up the offending pair, knowing that he was probably tired. I’m sure that my heels have also, on occasion, made him trip and swear too. Sometimes I watch him. He knows it. I catch him watching me too. How sometimes, I just dance for no reason at all, if only just to feel the groove in my back. In this big, carpeted house, we seem to surprise each other often.

Ok, so what we really do is sneak up on each other.

Scribe surprises me in more ways than just in the house. For example, this morning we stopped to get gas. After I entered the convenience store, apparently a man whom Scribe considered “A Special Ed Looking Nukka” as he put it, came inside behind me. I didn’t notice him, however, Scribe appears at the window looking at me. As I stand there wondering what he needs, Scribe comes inside, asks me to repeat what I said, to which I replied “Nothing”. He pats me on the behind and walks out of the store. In animalistic terms, I was “Sprayed” or “Marked” in public. At 7:15 am! I laughed and said, “Early in the morning huh?” To which he replied, “I’m always on the case”. To some, this may seem possessive or even obsessive, but imagine if it was at the other end of the spectrum. And he just didn’t care, or was complacent. Now that we are married so he shouldn’t feel threatened in any way, but he doesn’t see it that way. He treats me the same way he did when we were in a “relationship”.

I described all of these personal things for a reason. Recently, he was telling me the type of night he had planned for me and remarked that I would probably tell my friends. The weird part is that I don’t share most of my life with him. I write portions of it on the blog, I may share a funny tidbit, but most of it is just for me. He’s right to some degree. As he said, if he were some negro off the street or a nucca from the club, I would probably be rushing to grab a phone to say “Girl, we did this and he did that and I felt like this!”

But this is my husband.

How many times can I coo about how much he loves me? How many times can I say that I’m grateful to God, with tears running down my face from the complete joy I feel in being a relationship so divine and so exclusive, that it had to be tailor made by Him for me? How many times can I wax poetic about the type of father he is and how because of him, my little family has a level of security that comes with having him in our presence everyday? I don’t have to share a man and my daughters have the comfort of having a concerned father in their lives everyday and not just “when it’s my turn”.

No. They don’t want to hear all of that.

So I’ll just continue to write it all down.

And put it here.

If they want to read it, they can. Or they can wait for me to write about another subject that interests them more.

And that’s ok with me. Because as Whitney Houston said: “My Love is Your Love”. If what I have written over these past 18 months gives you hope? Then I’ve made my point. If what I have written gives you tips? Then that takes it up another level.

But if what I have written about meeting, living with, then marrying the love of my life makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside for even just an instance?

Then you really know how I feel everyday of my life with this special man.

And I didn’t even have to say it in person.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Drought/ November Jams

It’s time to write again.

Think about a drought. That’s what Georgia’s in now. A terrible drought. Everyday there are pictures and footage of the sinking water levels in GA. Just when Scribe got used to doing the lawn….there was a news bulletin letting us know that we were in a water emergency and that you bet not be caught watering your grass. Apparently some folks chose not to listen. There have been over 2000 violations. Don’t get it twisted…your neighbors will call the peoples on you.

I have used that term “the peoples” since I was little. People of authority, the law and generally anyone who had the power to shape your life. I have tried desperately to disconnect myself from the peoples….but somehow they always end up in my life in some form or fashion.

I’ve been going through a drought of my own. Do I regret the circumstances of the choices I made to get into that situation? Sometimes. I don’t dwell on it too long. My family needs a strong woman in this house. A woman who sometimes may make a questionable decision, but in the end, lives turn out better because of it. They need a woman of vision. A woman who can take the worst and turn it around. A woman who can hope, plan, scheme and pray about how to make life better for those around her. Someone who can see the big picture, and why we are here on this earth and what her charge in life is and who never lets go of a personal goal for herself. So I try not to beat myself up too much.

The difference now is…there’s someone else in this house. Someone who can sooth that woman’s heart. Who takes charge without questions. Who can make the dragons fly away. Who can see the full portrait of the piece we’re painting, yet can remember that the particular shade of blue we’re painting now, this corner of our life’s tapestry, has more red and yellows that I thought it did. He pushes me toward my goals and dreams. Not much of a “Don’t talk about it, be about it”, more of a “Yeah, that’s cool, But let’s couple this with this”. A constant thinker combined with an active personality. A calming, yet exciting dynamo of laughter and kindness. How did it come about that he dropped out of the sky into my arms?

Doing this time of hardship that we faced, I had no desire to write. This time I wasn’t going to try and justify the moves I made that led us to this. That part was shared with my husband. My best friend. Who could understand why I did what I did, because he saw me come home every day downtrodden from that school in Memphis. Saw my weakened spirit, although victorious every battle, that the soul was battered and weary. He saw what would happen if I continued with the original plan for ATL. He said it was ok. That I didn’t have to do it. Helped me devise a plan and we acted accordingly. Was it convenient for everyone else? No, but it was the only way for us to choose. We wanted different jobs, a different way and a life that we chose.

As you can see, I’m writing again. That must mean something has changed in this equation. We did get the jobs we wanted. Maybe you didn’t hear me. We got the jobs we wanted. I mean really, really wanted! In thinking about it, it had to be divinely inspired. I am working for the largest state school in ATL. Which allows me to continue my original dream of becoming an English Professor and possibly Dean someday. For free. I have a nice office, great bosses and limited contact with b*tch shit. I probably won’t be writing that much in the next month or so, I have a lot of work related classes to take and my lunchtime will be spent at the writing studio getting my personal statement and writing sample together. There is the matter of the GRE’s as well.

And my handsome, sexy, and wonderful husband? He got his dream too. He working at a very historic HBC, which gives him the opportunity to dress up in suits and ties everyday and become “Oh, the cute guy in the corner office down the hall”. I’m married but I ain’t dead. I’m still the jealous green eyed sprite! It’s just great that we work 20 minutes away from each other, so I get to carpool with him. That’s right! Drop off and pick up! Them bourgeois witches ain’t getting my husband LOL He is extremely happy with his elevated position and I am too. My husband makes more than I do. This may be crazy, but it feels good. These two months haven’t been easy, but the visions have become reality.

He’s going be taking care of all three us for the next year or so. Majority of my check will be laid aside for plans and visions. I am reminded of this woman I saw on the news. 5 years ago, she and her husband decided to start going green. They attached rain barrels to their house to be able to use the rain water to water her garden. Of course there was no drought 5 years ago, but because of what she did then, she is able to have the prettiest lawn today on her street. Compared to her neighbors, she is living in the Garden of Eden. If nothing else, we have learned to become like Joseph in Egypt. We’re getting budgets together and setting up for DDay. Valentine’s Day. Because…

2008 will be about getting our shit straight cause in 2009 we’re going to be living fine!

Mark my words.

Things are not completely back to normal, but in spite of the drought, things around here are starting to look pretty green.

Here's November's Playlist...Enjoy!


Friday, November 02, 2007

Pop that Booty!

He needs to give my ass some lessons!

Thursday, November 01, 2007


(it was forwarded to me...and I thought it was cute)


You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
Alan, age 10

No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.
Kristen, age 10

Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
Camille, age 10

You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
Derrick, age 8

Both don't want any more kids.
Lori, age 8

Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
Lynnette, age 8 (isn't she a treasure)

On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that Usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
Martin, age 10

I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
Craig, age 9

When they're rich.
Pam, age 7

The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that.
Curt, age 7

The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
Howard, age 8

It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
Anita, age 9 (bless you child)

There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
Kelvin, age 8

And the #1 Favorite is........
Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck.
Ricky, age 10

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