Pharmacy: photo

So. When last I left you I was putting thoughts of my friend's parents out of my head. Today is no better. But first let's talk about cashiering.

I've mentioned before that as a cashier people drive me crazy. They do stupid things like making their own lines and complaining about the price of stuff as if you can do anything about it. Every Sunday morning towards the end of my days there, I would meet the woman who took the prize for the most annoying guest evar.

She'd come in, slowly, as she was McCain-aged. She was a skinny lil woman, old but still blonder than grey, which seemed natural for some reason. She'd get her paper, then go to the pharmacy. Then you'd hear Dr Li over the intercom, "Jeff to the pharmacy, Jeff to the pharmacy." Jeff was the jerky supervisor. He'd smoke EVERY 45 minutes, no matter what. Anyway. Jeff would talk to this woman about whatever insolvable problem she was having in the pharm. When they were done, she'd continue shopping and then come to me. At this point she'd either thank me for having mayfield butter pecan ice cream in the big tubs, or she'd ask me 12 times if I could order some. Then I'd tell her I don't do the order and mayfield brings in what they want essentially, and she'd ask for my manager. "Jeff to the front counter." that would take another few minutes. At some point she would complain about being charged too much tax on her items, and how it was supposed to be 3% and not 5%. Then we'd tell her she needed to call the government about that... This happened EVERY WEEKEND! Every! And I worked Sunday mornings, so she knew noone but me. And I'd have to explain this to her every weekend. I'm getting annoyed just thinking about it.

So yeah, photos. There were rules to the photos. You had to check all the pix for quality and content. We have to make sure there's no illegal activity in the pix, and if there is we have to report it. And trust me, even if you send them off to be developed, that's true. If you go to wolf camera and do the digital thing, its true. Someone you don't know is looking at your pix. Haha! Someone has seen your worst, most incriminating picture! Some people tended to send off their items, rather than having the doll faced 18 year old develop them. I was the only one qualified in the photo area. You couldn't get one hour til I got out of school, lol. It wasn't that it was so hard, but our store was just that raggedy.

So yeah, despite the fact that I never had to develop naked pix, it didn't mean I didn't see them. For one thing, one day there was a mix up from ko.dak and the photos were not in the packs. So that meant I had to kind of try to figure out which went with what. The fact that some of the people came in and got theirs that day made it easy, but at the end of things there were still a few left, and I had to try to figure out where they went. There was one guy who would get slides developed (snore) so his was easy. Then there were some people who I knew from the neighborhood. Cool. Then there was Mr K, who would come get pix done like every week. I remembered cuz he had one of those hard, Polish names with the unneccessary letters. So since I knew what he looked like, I figured I'd look through the photos and see if I could find him. And I found him... And about 15 naked people. Apparently he takes pictures of ORGIES! Is this a weekly thing? At least there's a nice mix of races here... Ew they're all old! The whole roll is naked! Oh my God how am I going to look at this man? Isn't he married? Is his wife one of these fleshy old people? I have not had enough sex to be scarred like this. I may never have sex again. Oh my head. It hurts....

These are the thoughts that went through my head. I was seriously shocked and disgusted about the whole scenario. Despite all that, it wasn't as bad as the OTHER time I saw some naked pictures.

So as the chick with the sweet job at the pharmacy, my friends would come in for the hook up. I think the statute of limitations are up, so I will say that I would ring people up for the cheap stuff and let them get away with the more expensive things. One time my friend, one who tended to brag about his... Gifts... Wanted me to grab his photos. I did so gladly, since he had recently been fired for hitting me with a wiffle bat(it was funny, but the manager didn't see it that way). I also gladly decided to look at them. Glad turned to "oh lord why!" turned out they were pix of him and his naked high school girlfriend! Ahhh! No! Why?! And, it turns out, he was not as "gifted" as he claimed. He could have kept that, lol. If you have been reading my blog long you know that we ended up working together and I eventually told her that I saw her naked. What you don't know is that she was 2 years younger than us and that was illegal. Through no part of my own doing, the police investigated him for statutory rape and I THINK the pix were involved. He didn't get sent to jail though. And you KNOW I told my friends. Some of which were his friends... So it was quite an inside joke, he and his lil homey...

So that's my adventures with my high school job. I had fun there, in addition to the traumas. Maybe that's why I love working around strangers, you never know what to expect. Lol.

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Working at the pharmacy

From 2000 to 2003 I worked at the cvs down the street from my house in The Point. When I was first hired it was as a stocker, because of course you can't do anything without knowing the store first. Then I became a cashier, and sometimes worked in the pharmacy when they needed help (if it wasn't illegal then, it is now. I should not have been sorting pills, even if it was rechecked by a pharmacist). My favorite job, though it wasn't an all day position except after holidays, was the photo shop. Checking in overnight orders. Breaking open one time use cameras (which, if for some reason you are still using them, you can do at home and save the batteries. You can also electrocute yourself, so be careful, you who lives in the 90s!), using the "black bag," and developing pictures. One hour photo was my favorite part because I am a bit of a voyeur and I like to see other peoples lives without actually committing to being friendships (blog anyone?). All of these areas have their... Interesting points... Especially when people's private parts are at issue.

So in case you didn't do the math, I was at the edge of 16 when I started working at the pharmacy. I was a junior and needed some money in my pocket. And 2 kids in my class already worked there, with more to come soon, thank God. The 2 parts of being a stocker are stocking, naturally, and customer interaction. The want to know where everything is. Even stuff that's right in freaking front of them. I mean, like, rightthere. Then there's the country folk. This man asked me repeatedly for some "tomanal" I was like, I don't know what that is... "tomanal! For a headache!" oh, TY-LEN-OL. It was like on Austin powers where he kept saying "fajja," instead of father. Then of course there's the fun of having the key to the condom/ pregnancy test/ "ointment" case. Picture old men coming for their condoms and finding out this baby-faced teen is the thing keeping them from getting some that night. Loved to watch them squirm. Of course then there's the women who wanna ask me which version of monistat is the best. The one that works the quickest, I guess, geez.

And then there was the time we found some 20 bins of makeup that someone was too lazy to stock, so we got free reign of the stuff for a dollar a piece. I'm talking, loreal, revlon, cover girl, stuff they had since stopped making. 3 bottles of this blood burgundy revlon nail polish that looked delicious on me. I still have unopenned stuff in a big bubblegum container somewhere in my house. La and my mom wrecked shop.

On to working in the pharmacy. For the most part, they needed someone to man the register so they could concentrate on the actual pharm stuff. And it was the best place to be when you had homework. The night pharmacist was a lovely Korean man whose name I cannot remember! I wanna say Dr Li, or some other one syllable situation. Anyway, Li didn't mind if you had your pre-cal (yep, 11th grade, pre-cal) books out as long as when a customer came up you took care of it and he didn't have to get involved unless they asked. Which meant you had to know to look in the fridge for some stuff and tell the people how to mix it, etc. Of course the people would bug him anyway. When it was exceptionally busy, I mighta been asked to count out some pills. They had these lil baskets with the pills and the prescriptions already in them, and all I had to do is count out however many and stick the labels on the plastic bottles and put the pills in there. Then Li or one of the techs would come after and check to make sure you did it right. This is how I found out that a the father of a boy I had known since 6th grade, and also worked with at the time, was using Via.gra. Ew! I did not wanna think of them having the sex. I do remember him coming to get them that evening. I think I got a ride home from them that night too. To this day... I swear the image of my hand holding a bottle of viagre with his name on it is seared in my head. *banging my head* Repress! Repress!

Ok I'll stop there. I need to go rinse my brain. Tomorrow I'll get to the juice: photo shop!
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lemme get my camera*

*jameil was it ray j? rather than snoop? anywhoo i hate that song. its like "mother may i" with different words. no, you mat not.*

on to the point... pichers!

look what the eff i just found?! i was going into "browse" to take pix off my mem card, and i see a folder marked "joy's modeling pix." he's had my portfolio since i stopped modeling... how sweet that my #1 fan put some up. this one was taken right before jr prom at my old house, in what i called my "deal closer dress." not for any dirty reason, just that every one loves me in it. i still have it (that quirk popping up)...i wore it to my friend's grandma's funeral. when i saw her hubby (the grandma's) a few weeks later he said "it was nice that you came to show your respects. you wpre the green dress, right?" i was so embarassed.



here's one of the dress kesi's mom got me. belt by express, scarf by fendi. is fendi still popular? i dont care, i loves my scarves. this was right before lauren and i parted ways. we were kinda quiet after we went back to the hotel after this pic.



kesi and i had a lil picnic thang at the park today. before we left the house he saw a lizard on my shutters. is it really lizard weather already? i usually dont see them til august. or maybe theyre always there and i dont know it. they live in my shutters cuz there's shade and plenty of bugs. i dont mind cuz theyre cute.



us on the swings. thats alll i really wanted to do for the whole excursion. my whole motivation was the swings. while on them we talked about the games we played with our parents and the games we want to play with our kids. we also talked about how everyone should just be a kid again for a little while and go play on the playground. he tried to do the monkey bars, but they were so small that even on his knees he could reach the bars too easily. then i went down the slide and conducted enough electricity to start the car with...




last but not least, my alin page dress!!!! i just got it yesterday at ross. for 80% off retail! i mean whoa. i had already gotten what i needed (black work pants) and something i wanted (brown short shorts with sky blue dots), and i turn down the aisle and what do i see? the same dress i had taken a picture with out of harper's bazaar on a slow day at work a few weeks ago. remember my "i need" list where i said i needed a yellow sundress? this was why! but then i saw it in purple... and i had a crisis because even though it was so cheap i just could not get two. so i called lauren and she restrained from laughing at me and we decided on purple. no pics of it on me yet; that will have to wait til my grandma's birthday party in july, inless some other event comes up. and ive gotta find some yellow shoes first...

Funny birth control story.

Inspired by stace's skin drama...

so... Full disclosure, I've been on birth control since I was 16. I had a steady boyfriend at the time and my mom said she was NOT taking care of no grandkids (see, it is possible to be realistic while promoting abstinence... Ask me how long my mom has gone w/o). I would get it from planned parenthood and I was on it even when I wasn't having sex, so... 8 years strong.

Anyway, I had (have) this friend who we'll call latrice, cuz that's part of her name. Her parents didn't like me very much; I was a bit too... Free with my thoughts for their tastes. One time they kissed in front of us and I said "ew," (as a joke!) and the next thing I know her dad is lecturing her on my rudeness and her friends. Any other parent of my friends (ie, Lauren's mom or my aunts) would have laughed, I think. I mean I call la's daddy old all the time. He calls me chubby. This is our rapport.

So one day, latrice and I are on the phone and she's talking about how her period is unpredictable and heavy and just all bad. So I told her that my period was pretty steady and painless since I'd been taking BC. She was a virgin and had no use for the pills in their traditional sense, but I thought I'd share this info with her.

And at this point in the conversation, I guess her mom walked by, so she yells to her, "hey mom, can I get on birth control? Joy is on it!"

And then they started thinking I was a rude, daughter corrupting whore.

The end.
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a look back.

this is the last post of the day, i swear... i been wanting to just put a bunch of pix of kesi and i on here. what better day than today? i have tons of photos- its one of my favorite things to do- since even before we were a couple, but these are just a few of the ones that we had saved on the cpu.... enjoy, but be nice!!! and see the love in all of them.

prom, may 2002

ct, june 2003

late 2003

stl, july 2004

feb 2005

dec 2005

2006

feb 2006

summer 2006

feb 2007

today (please excuse our appearance, we're drunk with affection)

first kiss.

So, I've already told you that its less than a month to my 6th anniversary, and I've already written about the first time we met andour first time. Hell, he was even the inspiration for the blog in its inception.

But I haven't talked about our first kiss, and the events surrounding it.

January 2002. I had decided, after the dissolvement of my previous relationship, that this year was Joy Year. This meant I was going to do whatever I wanted to make myself happy. This included sneaking an 11th grader I had a crush on into my house to make out and get high. it also meant developing absolutely no feelings for him after he went home in the middle of the night. But we had mutual friends and hung out frequently.

A day or two after this, Kesi and I and a group of friends were being photographed for the year book. We were thinking about buying a page for the poetry group we were in. We were laughing and chilling with the group, but also kind of flirting off to the side. I remember him leaning against a wall and me hugging him, and he was giving me a serious look. "What?" "man, if I didn't have a girlfriend..." I gave him the one eyebrow. Mmhmm... The seed we'd planted a year before was peeking its lil head out. (link to that story coming soon!)

Meanwhile, Mr Sneaky Hookup was trying to get me alone again. We and our friends would hang out after school, but I knew I wasn't that into him. How? I realized I didn't want to kiss him. And his ass was always talking! About some quasi intellectual bull! And saying his father was an Egyptian prince. Negro you live in the SWATS. Boo. Even around him, I was thinking, "I wonder what kesi's up to?" there was one particular Monday when I had really realized I didn't like like Mr SH, that I decided I was going to kiss Kesi. Muahahaha! I'd imagined in my head just walking up to him and planting a good one on him. I mean, I already told him we were gonna have kids together, what's a kiss?

The next day, as per usual, we were all having lunch: Kesi, me, chick named keshia, and dude named Pierre, among others. I was having a lunch "snack:" iced tea and granola bars. No wonder I was so small. He was sitting directly across from me, eating chicken fingers and fries (the lunch people RAN to the cafeteria for).

"Pierre! No one wants to kiss me!" I knew Pierre would know if Kesi was feeling me; they were homeys. And Pierre's a horny bastard, all deep voiced sax player, so judging by HIS reaction to this statement, I would know if I had a shot.

"what about Kesi? He'll kiss anything." real nice P.

Meanwhile Kesi was a cute lil deer in headlights. He'd barely had a fry in his mouth and already I was on him.

"so? You want to?" he gave me a shrug I now know to mean, "I want to, but I don't want to seem too eager." woo hoo!

I too, was trying not to seem eager, so I took pause to swish some tea around in my mouth to make sure I didn't breathe granola all over him, though I could feel my poor face heating up. "you ready?" I stood up, leaned across the table, and laid a quick smooch on his lips.

Oh my. For a kiss that that lasted .005sec, it was fan freaking tastic. He had nice, big soft lips. And of course there was this energy between us that left us both red faced, as keshia started out, in her generally loud way, "damn! People are trying to eat, and yall making out at the table!" which led the people who didn't witness it to ask about whether or not we were dating, and why did we kiss if we weren't? This lasted about 10 minutes, then things died down and we got back to our chicken and granola.

After lunch, we went our separate ways (though our classes were next door, and I wrote him a note telling him that I liked him. He wrote back saying he'd liked me for a long time. We made it official like a week later, and we've been joined at the lips ever since.

11 36 44

Do these numbers mean anything to you? Of course not. But they mean a lot to me! 11= mom, aunts and uncles. 36= me, my brothers and all my grandma's grand kids. 44= great grand kids. 91 people spawned from lovely Anna. Can you believe that?! Wow. And 1/9 of us lived in my house when I was 14.

Back then, we had lived in East Point for 3 years. My aunt D was living in CT, and aunt Stacey was in Tampa, I think. Somewhere swampy. I don't know much about Florida. It seemed they both decided, simultaneously, that it was time to make a fresh start. Its all good. We lived in a 3 bedroom house and my mother had turned the front den into a master bedroom. So we had space.

Now that I really think about it our house has never been just us. My mema, other family, my "aunty" Rachelle, the devilish woman who lived with us last year (ugh. Let's not), so on. My mom's always opening up like that. Especially family.

So anyways, aunts move in, and we somehow make it work. I have bunk beds, my brother has bunk beds. Ms Lady and I sleep in my room, her bro Jay and my bro sleep next door. Aunt D is in the master bedroom, and I think this is where my ma got her habit of sleeping on the couch. My aunt Stacey and her 3 kids, Imani (5), Jordan(2) and Jared (lil pookie baby), sleep in the other bedroom.

Aunt Stacey was so paranoid! I can see why, now that I'm older. I'd be on the phone after school, and she'd have the operator cut her in to check on her babies. "and get off the phone!" we'd have to stay off til she got home! Do you know how hard that is for a high schooler? And wouldn't the phone NOT be busy if something was wrong? Like if one of them was injured I'd carry on my conversation? Ok. And I don't recall having her number to call her. So, if something did happen... There were very important things to talk about to the people I spent all day writing notes to! Why didn't we have call waiting?! So many questions!

The bigger boys tore their room up! My bro is not a rambunxious (i don't know how to spell it!), but Jay totally is. Even now. So he'd try to goad my brother into wrestling or play fighting him and it turned out so bad! They'd just end up pissed at each other. The only times property damage ensued was when Jay was outside throwing acorns in that mock romance way, trying to get my bro to come outside. And he threw one THROUGH the window! Sigh. No hiding that from the parents! Then there was the bag, full of books, through the wall. They hid that one for a long time. In another house, one boy tossed the other through a wall. Big holes.

Ms lady and I would put words in people's mouths. We'd amuse ourselves by watching our moms doing something across the room and add the vocals. I remember one of us using the line "no, you're wrong! This is just like when we were kids!" and cracking each other up. They never knew. They'd be so wrapped up in paperwork and plans and we'd have them talking about all kinds of nonsense.

What else? Oh shopping was insanity. We'd have to buy diapers every day! I mean we, cuz big people would give us money, and lil people would head to the CVS where I'd inevitably work. Like 3 gallons of milk at a time. If you want something, hide it! You like that cereal? You get one bowl of it, you're lucky. We'd have day and night shifts on dishes. And you better do them your assigned time, cuz if not you're doing the next person's on top of yours and messing up the rotation. If you're of a certain age, you have to sit at the table.

Speaking of the table... The chairs. Oh my, every chair was broken by the end of it all. I don't know how but it seemed like the tops slid off the chairs and people fell through the frames! Hillarity! We were checking chairs first before we sat down.

Everyone had their moments. Imani stood on the fireplace mantel and sang "we fall down" and would not stop! She just kept, "we fall down, we get up! We fall down, we get up!" and we're like "yay!" thinking she'd stop! And she wouldn't! Lmao! My aunt was like, "thank you mani! Thank you! You can stop now!" And her darling lil brother, one day, he's sitting on the bed crying. He was my lil buddy (I seem to get along with the toddler set) and so I say, "Jordan! What's wrong pookie?" and pick him up and let him cry in my lap. And then I realize what's wrong... He pooped on himself, and was in trouble. And now I got boo boo on me! I had to put him right back down on the towel I'd somehow ignored, his comfort be damned, and clean myself. *shiver* And then Jared. I can mention this since he is alive and well... I let him roll off the couch. Twice. Ms Lady was yelling at me from the kitchen, "hold him!" I was all in the tv or something. She is a born mom. And he would forward roll to the floor and giggle. And so I prayed he wouldn't grow up a lil slow... And he didn't! Whew!

Oh reminiscing is so fun! Eventually aunt Stacey moved back to CT, and aunt D moved into her own place. We missed them. That was definitely a memorable few months.

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Half truths

I don't remember the first time I thought it, but I remember the first time I said it. We were at Reka's fam's house for thanksgiving and talking about baby names. Some how the convo turned to relationships in general, and I said it.

"I'm the best girlfriend any of my exes has ever had."

I believed it then. And until recently I still believed it. Here's why I did:

I call myself the cheerleader. I am 100% behind any guy I date. As long as he's behind me. And if he's not, then why are we together? I believe in the man I'm with. Also, after me, its all downhill for dude. I keep em in line. I've had boyfriends who are now crazy, ex cons, baby daddies, addicts, etc. Never a hint of it when we were together. And onward, I'm shallow. Of course I think I'm the shit! And they did too.

Here's why my view has changed:

I received a MySpace message from a man named Brian. Brian and I dated for 3 months when I was 14 and then broke up. He was asking if I still remembered him and how I was doing, yadda yadda. How nice. I showed the picture to kesi and he said he didn't remember dude- we often share MySpace peeps from our old school. Later, I receive another message from dude with all kinds of talk of high school sweetheart this and that, complete with a link to Brian mcknight's "anytime." wtf? Mind you, I dated dude 10 years ago and have since almost had a baby and am now with my TRUE high school sweetheart.

Ok, so this gives me a laugh. But then I think of my quote, and now I'm thinking of how I treated Brian. I really only started dating him to make another guy jealous. I knew he liked me and that his feelings for me were a lot bigger than mine for him. I accidentally told him I loved him one time- I said it like, "I love this guy, he's funny"- and I didn't know how to take it back, and he'd say it every chance he'd get. I broke up with him over Christmas break; didn't even buy him a present! After he said to my friend that sex before marriage was wrong I knew we were doomed. I was a virgin, and I didn't wanna do it with him, but still. (Lauren said I'm mean cuz I broke up with a dude for not putting out.) He would write me letters asking to get back with me every time I broke up with someone. EVERY TIME!

I was not the best girlfriend he ever had. I wasn't even a good one. But for some reason he thinks I was. Does that make it partially true? I never wrote him back- what could I say? In my mind I was thinking, man you got two kids (he's not married btw) and we haven't seen each other in years. What makes you think you're crossing my mind? But that's mean, no? And haven't I been mean enough to him?

So an addendum: I am the best girlfriend my boyfriend has ever had.

That will never be a lie.
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Sparks *editted*

6 more days...



Monday was exactly 5 years since kesi and I first kissed. I'm sure I told this story before so I'll summarize:



We were in the cafeteria and he was sitting directly across from me. I was eating my usual granola and tea (I ate light back then) and he had chicken. After a few minutes, I turned to his friend and made a comment about no one wanting to kiss me (lie! I called myself the kiss ho), and he said, kesi will. My plan was working! And so I drank some tea to make sure there was no granola in my teeth and went for it.



It was literally short and sweet. But I felt... Something. A spark, if you will. My face was red, I know it. And what with all the uproar of people making out across cafeteria tables, lmao. He was blushing too. But he composes himself better.



That little kiss made all the difference. It was that spark.cliché huh? But really, there was clearly something deeper there. We were drawn to each other. I feel it still when we kiss. Even if its just a goodbye.



and now its 5 whole freaking years later! Its funny cuz sometimes I think I should be tired of him. But I'm not! He really is the only one. Swoon. There are times I wish and hope every one that's in love can relate, and moments when I hope this is just a feeling that's ours. 5 years. Yeah. Its better than I could have thought.

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Gum tats

Oh you heard me: gum tats. Let me explain...

Today I asked Hartford about her tongue ring. She said she got it and a tattoo when she was 15 and rebelious. So my manager, who is from ghana, said that back home she woulda gotten a spanking, even at 15. This prompted five of us to trade war stories about crazy things we did when we were young. Such as:

*shaving her eyebrows at 15 and really screwing it up.
* wearing makeup to school at 12 and getting caught when my mom came to check me out of school
*getting a tiger tattoo at 14
*sneaking out
*shaving our arms

And the top of the top: my ethiopian friend said that she tattooed her gums. We thought she was joking. Who does that? Then she said in Ethiopia dark gums are sexy, and hers are pink, so when she was 17 she got hers tattooed. She said she couldn't eat or go to school and her gums bled for days. We were shocked. She even showed us her lower gums which were still pink. Clearly she won that contest.

So, barring any strange plastic surgeries, what crazy thing did you do as a youth? Is it permanent? Or is it just a good laugh?
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the anniversary that isnt

me and kesi's anniversary is in exactly one month. this time 5 years ago he was dating a nympho psycho with a big rack- yeah i had to mention her breasts- and and i had just ended my two year dream sequence gone horribly wrong. but in the spirit of lauren's what-ifs, i'd like to tell a story.

may 2001. mr dream sequence had just broken up for the first time. he read me a letter over the phone that he was possibly going to mail me (Ew, tacky), a letter which included lyrics to a song sung in german which he was so nice to translate for me. lauren why did i like him? and then i cried and told him i loved him and that if he wanted to break up i wouldnt object.

my friends decided to cheer me up and not let me live in a stank. i love them for that. i went to prom with brandi- the one who just got married. we even took really cute pix in our dresses in front of her dad's bmw. we looked like a car ad. another thing i needed to indulge in was my craft. on the day of my ex's prom was the poetry/ fashion showcase. (Can we bring up how equally tacky having a fashion show interspersed with spoken word acts really is? what the hell was our teacher thinking? my parenthesis are now reserved for the mentioning of tacky items in this story.) i could still enter because i was in it the year before and he knew i'd be prepared as i was a drama major.

so the friday came and i was decked out in my showcase tee and black on black skintight zebra pants. i still have those pants and they still fit. i think i wore knee high lace up army boots too. (yep.) and who else was there, hair half braided, lookin so cute? kesi. and also lauren- modeling, naturally- and our friend kyle. the majority of the pre-show was spent running around with the boys being silly. but at one point the flirting began.

something i was, and am, always proud of is my underwear. back in high school i'd wear skater jeans and they'd always show. and if they didnt, i'd mention them in conversation. i've since grown out of that. but that day, lmao. so yes i had on my zebra pants. and there could be no vpl. so i wore a thong. not just any thong, a hot topic g-string with a pocket in the front. i loved them. and i decided, being single, someone should know about them. i may have even gotten a little skanky and managed to show them without giving everything away. but i remember him having the knowledge that i was wearing a thong and him approving. oh god.

the flirting carried on to the stage. we had to sit, cafe style, onstage, during the fashion portions. and when it was our turn to speak we'd get up from our table and go to the mic. we sat next to each other, and pretended to pay attention while we were really being asses and joking around. my math teacher did a poem about how we get on his nerves. or that's what i remember of it. lines about boys with half done hair and girls with short skirts. of course we pointed each other out when he said these things. kesi was on the stage looking like that episode of martin when he joined the cult and his hair effed up. i remember kesi's poem- elements of destruction. it was really good. i've since read it many times. my favorite line: its a wonder man doesnt get and erection at the sight of mass destruction. deep! i mean, we were 17. i did a poem about my ex and the moment i think we started drifting. it was titled christmas.

i think that day of the showcase was when i really started to like kesi. i denied him and anything really serious because i knew he was a good guy and that i was still messed up over my ex. i didnt want to hurt him or waste his time. but what if we had started something that night? did seven months really make a difference?

my vote is yes, it did. in those months alot happened. for one thing, i became a stronger, more independent person. more centered even. and he became the kind of person who could handle a girl like me. the girls before me showed him that, by comparison, i'm not so crazy. chances are i would have never gotten to know him like i know him now if our relationship would have begun then. i was not a person who could have given myself like i do now.

things happen like they do because they are meant to be. he and i are meant to be. that day was just a preview that maybe one day we can tell our kids when we explain what fate is.

happy blogiversary!

i started this blog about a year ago. my things have changed! and stayed the same...

i'm still in the quest for self improvement. still trying. i know what i want to do to become the person i want to be, but no matter what its day to day. i've been better about breaking people down, taking things in grey rather than black and white.

i still hate salespeople. grrr. i got offered a position in sales at work, which i didnt take partially because of school and partially because i didnt see myself happy there at all.

my dad is back in georgia. i never did tell him how i felt. dont know if it's moot, but i havent gotten to the point where i can say how i feel. sigh.

never blogged this, but i accidentally posted that comedian josh blue was mentally retarded and had MS. i meant to say cerebral palsy. i get them mixed up though they are two different things. didnt mean to imply that montel williams and tamia were retarded.

the creepy guy, the drunk girl, and mr not gay no longer work with me. i still keep in touch with the girl though.

the hotel whore had a baby and disappeared. i stopped thinking she was my friend's sister.

i go to wendy's way more than the kang now.

i call people less but i text way more.

X and his girlfriend broke up then got back together. i started to become cordial with her until she decided to get crazy and hate on two of my friends. so i kinda stressed over nothin... its not so important to me that i like her anymore.

kesi hasn't changed his name yet. he also doesnt associate much with the family member who was fucking up his credit.

funny how i said i hated that people think guys and girls cant be friends, then wrote a whole post about how i thought they couldnt. contradictory, but honest when they were written. and of course i think they can, above all else.

my ankle is better but my back is worse.

my mom still comments on my weight but she's nicer about it now.

i wanna make another hate list and love list. its the kind of thing where i cant just sit and think of things i love or hate. its cumulative.

that's all i can think of. just interesting points of convo. maybe take it back to the entries only lauren was reading, lol.

i know... you seen it...

lol no i will not speak of yung joc here. i was just wondering if any of you all had been to target lately. and if so, did you see this? it has my name on it! not my real name of course, my pseudonym. lauren took a picture of it last week. seems like the perfect time to talk about where i got this name....

this is kaori night. a character from the cartoon, "Sailor Moon." she is where i got my name. back in the day i used to get home from school to watch it and keep up with the episodes. mind you i was 16.

so yeah kaori was a bad guy. she was the assistant to an evil doctor who lost his daughter and swore to get back at those who failed to save her, namely the sailor scouts. but i wont bore you. just know kaori night is a bad bitch.

so when i was going through some changes in life- see my deep post- i decided to change my name. previously i was using a combination of mine and my ex's and it was vastly unfitting seeing how i hated him and planned to keep dating at some point. one day i was looking up my friends' names on babynamefinder.com and decided to keep going cuz i like to know the meanings of words. so i looked up kaori and got "aroma of the flower." how enchanting sounding.

i wrote it on my folder from school. i used to do graf looking art on my notebooks. my friend legal said, in his soft voice, what's that? kowree? and so began my venture into explaining my name and what it means. kesi used to spell it like koala. which back in the day when we were first dating was cute.

kaori is my more daring side. she is the part of me that stands out and is eloquent and always has a comeback. she's the one that parties, haha. before i chose this name and persona i let my shyness and fear take over my personality. for the past few years its been easier for me to be and express myself. its more than just a name- its a symbol of the change i went through when i chose to make myself the first priority.

its funny that all this came from a cartoon...

WARNING: the following post is pretty deep.

sometimes i imagine revenge. not of the torturous sort, but i want to be such a great person that he realizes what a crazy ass he was. and what he lost. self torture i guess.

i remember what he looked like last time i saw him. above all else, he was bald. (must admit, that made it easier for me.) didnt even look like the boy i once knew. so molded to what he thought was cool at this point in time. used to be me. my friends. now he was a gangster.

i'd known him for years. since i'd known lauren. we were friends and then one day he sent me a note saying he liked me. we started dating and literally one week later he told me he was in love with me. i told him i was too. (was i? doubt it. and maybe i shouldnt have said it back. but i know i had love for him and i didnt want to hurt him) so here we are, young and in love. and i didnt know then, neither of us did, that you cant really be in love and be depressed. because you dont love yourself and you cant love someone without loving yourself.

but we tried. we ended up being that person in your own head who agrees and says, youre never wrong- the world is wrong. when i'd be pissed at this or that thing he'd say, forget that. i'm here. i would assume, naively, that everything would be ok as long as we were together. we had no real future plans. he was gonna join the army and i'd be there too, as support i guess.

and yes, i got pregnant. i think about it on occasion and acknowledge that its bittersweet that we lost that child. i am relieved i'm not stuck dealing with him for the rest of my life. not the first in the line of women who bore his children. (he has 3 now.) though it was my dream at the time. and we were gonna run away because of course our parents would not approve and they'd try to run our lives and taint our unborn. his words not mine. fuck, i could have really ruined my life. do you know that most spousal abuse starts with isolation from the support system?

we stayed together for two years. i guess. we werent to together after he moved away. his family moved a long drive away and i barely saw him. but we talked every day. even when he got a job. then he did something i wouldnt expect. he stopped talking to me. maybe i should have seen it coming. he was a jealous guy and had recently found out i was once involved with someone he absolutely hated. i dont think he'd ever gotten over it. it would give him nightmares. i finally caught up with him and he told me we both knew it wasnt gonna work out. i was devastated. i was still convinced that we were gonna be together forever. (i never say that kesi and i will be together forever. it makes our relationship more fantasy than reality. clearly i was all fairytale back then.) i was also convinced we'd get back together. and we did.

life was good again. until one day he called me to say he was leaving. he'd shot someone. and "some people" were looking for him. he'd call soon. but we were still together. figuratively. we hadnt been in sync for at least 6 months. he had no idea of my daily life, my changes and growth. i had no idea he had been in jail, and fathering his first child. or even that he was back here in ga. didnt he think i'd care? some days i wondered if he was even alive.

but when i found out... it was like a switch flipped. i cried once. let it out. then i decided 2002 was gonna be the year i made myself happy. i was a new person no one got to see me mope around over him anymore. i took the whole thing as a lesson learned. and i knew that no matter what came i wouldnt be controled. it would all be my decision. i was once invited to go with a friend to see his second child. i was ok with the idea and knew i could be happy for him if his life was what he wanted it to be. i was subsequently uninvited by his wife, a former friend, who said she couldnt get over what i did to him. it made me wonder what he put into her head. if some of the things he led her to were the same things he led me to. if he was happy in his life and love as i was.

i look back at these events, sans emotion, and think of how that was really me. how i've changed. i cant regret it because it made me who i am and helped me appreciate real love when it finally came to me.

either way, i hope he's sorry. i hope one day he can tell me so. i think of torture because that's what i felt sometimes. like i could never be without him. i'm glad i learned i can.

commissioned

so firstly, its my kesi's birthday weekend. and my lauren is in town. but we're all in the midst of that so i wont blog about it til like tuesday. on with the post:

i crochet. not knit. knitting involves two straight needles. i use one hooked one. and i'm damn good at it.

i started when i was 9. my grandma lula taught my mom and she taught me. back in the day i'd make something then unravel it and make something else.

lately i've been making stuff for friends and family. but you gotta understand that since it takes so long to make, lately has been some years. i first made kesi a king size blanket, black and blue double stitch. with a crazy patern. hot patern. took me four months. labor of love.

i made a scarf for lauren her first winter at howard simple, red, cozy. her blanket is coming up. maybe a throw?

i made a baby blankie for my friend sheria. big enough to swaddle her cute lil daughter in. granny square grouped stitch. pink and lavender. how darling.

for me, another labor of love. a cape verdean flag. not so hard to do, just blue, white and red, then yellow stars. stars are hard man. i havent really finished because of that. my mom's supposed to show me how.

so my friend calls me last week to ask me to make her a baby blankie for her friend. she saw the other one i made and wanted to know how much i charged. wha? i got a hustle! i told her $25 because she's my girl and she talks. she'll get me some business. and then my other friend asked me about the king blanket i made and when i told him it'd be $150, he was like yeah? hell yeah! if people wanna give me money for doing something i'm damn good at, shoot... pay me!

chicken pox: a story with no real point.

althea got chicken pox last week. she came back to work with scratch spots all over her. adults still GET chicken pox? gee whiz...

i got chicken pox when i was 7. i may have contracted it at my grandma's funeral. one of my cousins had it and gave it to everyone. but she also lived upstairs from me so i may have been a carrier...

my grandma lula mae was born and raised in monks corner, sc. my grandfather too. as it goes, my mom's dad was born in rome, ga, so i have a deep southern heritage that i try to deny. anyway, monks corner was a 14 hour ride away, on a coach bus with family members who i knew and didnt know. my mom sat in the front and my dad in the back. not because they needed to be separated, but because they werent together anymore and werent bound by compromise to sit near each other. i would bounce back and forth on the bus to one of them or the other, and bug relatives for snacks and to hear what they were listening to on their tape players.

south carolina was CUNTREE! as compared to the biggest city in connecticut, complete with projects and latin gangs, i was in the deep woods. whole new experience. big as crickets and mosquitoes... i swear i had never seen a field before then. a "hills are alive, hey is that corn?" field. i played until dusk with distant cousins and came in the house dark as a tollhouse chocolate chip.

it was there that i smelled the worst smell i'd ever. some meat maybe, boiling on the stove. even with the lid on it filled the house with the stench of death. chitlins. the "c" must be a typo. i asked my mom what it was and she told me intestines. i thought she was joking. ew. i picked at that night's food.

that small town was beautiful. even though i was there to say good bye to my grandma i have really good memories. but that doesnt suprise me. she lives in every scarf or blanket i ever crocheted. its funny, all my life, she was sick. diabetes. she had her leg amputated and her prosthetic would sit next to her when she was watching tv, with a flat black loafer and a knee high stocking. i would touch it and look at her missing lower leg, but i wasnt afraid.

she made great iced tea. it had a whole lemon in it. cut, of course.

so i got chicken pox at her funeral. couldnt go to school for a week, and i actually liked school then. my dad had to take care of us when my mom was at work. we played all day and at one point i climbed into our jennifer couch and made my dad look for me before i jumped out and scared him. i know he was probably thinking my mom was gonna kill him if i wandered out into the street in a fever hallucination. he once sent me back home without bathing me and she's still mad about that.

dont they call it shingles when older people get pox?

apartment 7-A is where the heart is...

So here i am in ct. Where i was born and raised. And much like that day, i am cold and broke. But that's beside the point, because i have family.

After getting secondhand info on my grandma, and causing myself stress by obsessing over calling (or not calling)
her to see how she is, i finally got to see her today. Its really all i needed.

I was nine when my grandma had her first heart attack. We were in her room, watching animaniacs, and she called desperately for my mom. After that, it was a blur. I remember each moment up to that point when my
mother made my brother and me leave the room. staring at her not knowing what to do...having this event take place that seemed so much like the stuff on tv, only no one knew CPR or shit like that. my brother, 5 years old, kind of scared but not sure why...

After that: sleeping in my grandma's bed while she was in the hospital. i was so scared she would die, and i had to hold on to the smell of her sheets and pretend that she was holding me.

And then, the fact that she came back. Like, 'fuck a heart attack; i'm anna.' this is the woman who had 14 kids, three of whom died. she broke both her legs falling down stairs doing laundry. she was excommunicated for getting a divorce, and lost my grandpa to a gunshot after he defended a woman's honor at a bar. she got a letter from hillary clinton a few months after the heart attack asking if she was ok. all true.

a few years ago, she even told my mom she'd be here forever.

i was 21 when she had her second heart attack. Since then, its been an uphill thing for anna. Leg issues, blood clots, walkers, nurses, temporary stays at homes... And suddenly the image of resiliency that i called 'meema' was gone. I realize that one day, she is going to die. And just cuz i realized it, doesnt mean i'm ok with it.

So i thought about her every day and said things like, 'i need to call her'. But i wouldnt. I would get the info from my mom and hope. But i didnt want to hear her voice if it wasnt HER. Cuz that was all i had,
her voice.

So today i saw her. And she was thinner than last year. And she was wearing gloves cuz her hands are always cold now. And she went to the doctors today. But he says she's better. The last two times she visited him
he admitted her, so just her coming back from there was a big step. I'm so glad. All i really need was full submergence into grandma-ness to be ok. To see her, no matter what she looks like, and to hear her voice,
no matter what it sounds like. And, yes, to watch tv with her like we did when i was nine.

My grandma is still here, but one day she wont be. But i'll still love her either way. And i dont have to be ok with the fact that she's gone- when that happens. Its normal. But i'll love her while she's here. And to paraphrase her: i've got all this, and i'm the richest woman in the world.

Nothing But a Burnt Shell

the next few blog entries were written about two weeks ago, when i was in connecticut visiting family. this is the first time i've really been on a computer since then...enjoy.

Its gone, and i'm happy to see it go.

My cousin lives around the corner from where i used to live about fifteen years ago. its pretty close to the edge of town, its as bad as it seems. Its the part of town that gives Bridgeport a bad name. Especially my street. We went for a ride today, so he could run errands. This ride took us past mckinley elementary, the school my mom refused to send my brother to, amen.

"your kids go there?" imagine i said 'there' as if i was about to throw up.

"hell no. My kids go to longfellow (a muuuuuch better school)."

Sigh of relief...As we passed the school we approached other childhood landmarks, i pointed them out."and this is- was- my old babysitter's house, and where i was attacked by the dog, and this is..."

and then i saw it. The burnt remains of my former home.The third story was gone and the first two were just a black frame. All i could say was, "wow". My cousin gave a, "damn" of agreement.

For the lack of words i could say, my mind was racing. This was where i lived when my grandma Lula died. Where i got that self-inflicted scar on my arm that everyone thinks is from drug use. Where i saw the girl, with the baby in her arms, get shot-on my front porch. Did i mention the dog attack? There's so much more that i dare not mention on this blog.

All these things raced through my mind. No happy thoughts to mourn, just experiences i'm glad to see go. i had some of the most traumatic moments of my short life in that house. Six "families" could live in that house- six balls of negative energy confined to such a small space.

I wish i could have been there to see it burn. I would have roasted marshmallows probably. Done a dance. Cried. I could have watched all the bad float into the sky, into the dark, released from me.

tell your daddy i said "fuck it."

that dave chapelle moment brought to you by the asshole crack heads who busted out my back passenger window just to take the change out of my car, leaving kesi and me with more debt. i hope you get bad crack and die. DIE!!! the only thing keeping me calm is Sean Paul's "breakout" (the song at the end of the "Temperature" video). and now on to better things...


so James and i met and went to lenox. he looked exactly the same. i really expected a beard or something. we went to Burger King. we all know the "Kang" is my favoritest fast food thingie ever, and he and i made jokes about 7th period, and how we would skip to the dairy queen directly across the street from the school gym. ah...memories.

we talked and walked for 3 hours. it was so cool, a complete stress relief to talk to someone who you know but not really- at least, not like you used to. we talked about our stupid exes, went to brookstone and sat on the massage chairs (my middle school stalker works there- awkward!), kesi, who he apparently had a class with, the perils of an alternative high school, and my plans to get by on my looks... music, old times, new times, work...the double standard that allows women to say, "she's pretty" but keeps men from saying the same thing about other men...

it made me remember that he was like the only one of our crew that i could have a serious convo with or even a not to serious convo, without it drifting off into awkwardness or boredom or one of us turning the conversation into our life story, which the other person inevitably does not care about. he invited my boyfriend and i camping, on as long as i bring a cute friend. does he not know all my cute friends live in a different state? or are guys? i'll be sure to work on that.

got home just in time for LOST. he called me out on my getting a ride from him just to get there before 9pm. superfans gotta do what they gotta do. we promised to do it again and said good night. awesome.

you can call me too! if you have my number...

remember when i said that i was gonna call more than two people in my phone book? i think more people are reading this than i originally believed. they keep calling me! not a problem, not complaining.

one of the people that called was my old high school friend, who i will call james, because no one knows thats his name. james is my ex's wife's ex. but before all that, we were very close. we would skip school and have deep talks- as deep as two 16-year olds can get... then we fell out.

we would skip school together and essentially failed spanish two together. he, my boyfriend at the time, his girlfriend and i would go to my house because it was closest, and watch tv and do other things which may or may not have been illegal. it was a lovely existence until we all werent going to graduate on time.

long ass story which still makes certain people (me? noooo...) really pissed, i wrote them a letter saying that all they wanted to do was skip school and have sex, and that i was over all that (so easy to say when my boyfriend lived in another state by then). i pretty much hypocritically insulted james and his girlfriend, who i had known since 7th grade. needless to say they were igged, especially since they were trying to make changes too- although on a side note james and i are the only ones who actually did graduate out of ALL our crew.

so we drifted. i didnt see or hear of him for literally years. then sometime near new years, i get a myspace message from him apologizing for the way our friendship ended. wow. our exes, who are now married and popping out kids, are probably looking at our pictures with a scowl to this day. and here we are, making up. turns out, we never really had any animosity between the two of us that wasnt fueled by our formers.

so i am meeting him for a late lunch today. i'm sure we will have much to talk about. not only am i sticking to my non-resolutions, i am growing! look at me making friends!!!