Much ado about nothing

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

welfare baby

Please explain to me why I have to work to support your lazy ass? Your rent is $32 a month, you get $450 in food stamps, and a check from the government. Yet you don’t work, never have in fact, and continue to pop out more babies while driving around in your pimped out Lexus. You want to know what I drive? I drive a damn Avalon, a 99 Toyota freaking Avalon. You want to know something else? I have $30,000 in student loans so that I don’t ever have to be on welfare. Guess what else? I know how to use a condom and I know what birth control does so I am not popping out kids I can’t afford. But not you. No, I mean why would you when it’s so much easier to just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work? I blame the government. The welfare system is designed to keep you on it. Think about it: a system that rewards you for doing nothing and penalizes you for trying to better yourself sounds sketch to me. As soon as I graduated high school and went to college every government benefit I had was taken from me including health insurance, the one thing I really needed. Yet, if I had stayed home and decided to pop out a litter of Bebe’s kids, the government would have paid for everything. As long as you don’t try to work the government will pay your rent but the moment you get a $7 an hour job they try to raise your rent to $600 a month. Seriously? This works how? Don’t misunderstand, I grew up on welfare and I am not ashamed of that fact. I remember the food stamp coupons in different colors. I remember being in the DSS office with my mom. I remember getting my medicaid sponsored checkups for school. I also remember a woman that went back to school, a woman that kept a job, a woman that did not want to pass down that life to her girls. There are those out there that are on welfare because they have no choice and they are fighting everyday to get off that system. I salute them. You, with your Ronald McDonald red weave, are not one of them. You seem to relish being a leech on society. You are proud of your inabilty to contribute to humanity. Hell, you probably can’t even spell “humanity” can you? You disgust me. You are not a woman and you do not deserve to use such a title.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Heavy

In one day my world was shattered. How can you look at a one year old with those thoughts? How could you hurt my nephew? Why did my little love one have to suffer? How dare you steal his innocence? My heart is so heavy. I hurt so much. I feel so guilty that I couldn’t be there to protect him. I feel guilty that I can’t be there for my sister to let her lean on me. You are a sick, disgusting individual. You deserve a place below Hell. You deserve the worst punishment that can be given. I want to be the one to make you beg for mercy but that is not my place. Vengeance is not mine. No, you will get yours. Continue to run. Continue to try and hide from what you deserve. You cannot hide from God. You will reap what you sow. Inmates just love *your* kind. Enjoy your freedom while it last because you are going away for a long, long time. You will answer to a higher power for what you have done. You have not won. You will not win.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Thoughts of the moment

It’s like 2 in the morning. My roommate is on the other couch with his laptop. I have a paper due by midnight tonight. What am I doing? I am listening to Speakerboxx by Outkast while eating Granny Smith apples. Who is Granny Smith anyway and why are her apples so damn delicious? Why am I asking you like you know? It’s moments like this that I realize I am truly blessed to have made it as far as I have in school because I have the attention span of a two year old. Not only that, I am distracted by shiny objects. Furry ones too. Oh, and anything that moves. And chocolate. Why don’t I have a dragon yet? Science has cloned sheep and cats but I don’t have my dragon and I am pissed. Wait, what was I thinking about again? Oh right the paper. Oh hey Elliott bought home a copy of the newspaper, maybe I should read it! No, no not that paper, the nursing school paper. Yeah, that one. Nevermind I’m going to bed…

Monday, March 28, 2011

Crazy magnet

I am a magnet for crazy. No, seriously I am a MAGNET. Not just like slightly crazy. I get the, on a bike, wearing six different colors, asking can he take me for a ride, crazy. If they aren't crazy then they are old enough to be my dad's dad. Like today. I walk out of my house to take my weekly trip to Mojo's for wings. This guy named Chemo, that's his name (he cuts grass in the neighborhood), starts following along on my walk just talking like we are old buddies. He walked all the way to 27th street with me. He turns off and then some guy on a moped decides I look just dumb enough to answer to "aye shawty!" Ignored him only to have a CAR FULL OF GUYS start honking at me. First of all why do ALL OF YOU need to hang out of the window to talk to me? You just look ghetto and creepy. Of course it's not just the neighbor hood crazies that I attract. I think being in the medical field makes me fair game for sick nut jobs. My patients in withdrawal, or with one foot amputated due to non compliance with diabetes, or with CHF and a child my age, those are the ones that want to flirt. Is it me? Am I wearing a sign that says "open season"? Seriously, am I putting off some kind of scent that attracts whack jobs? I can say that after talking to a friend in the medical field crazy creepers have become an epidemic. Crack heads are getting bold now. Ghetto heffas are feeling themselves for some reason. Wannabe thugs really think the stand a chance. Did I miss something? Did someone announce that having nothing going for yourself is "in season" now? Is "bum-chic" the new hottest thing on the runways? Somebody help me out here!

Monday, March 7, 2011

Timshel

Over the course of the night I have talked about everything from music to beer to tattoos. A friend told me she wanted to get “Timshel” tattooed on her. After much discussion I found out what it means. Can one word have enough meaning to change how you think? Maybe, for “Timshel” is Hebrew for “Thou mayest”. It means we are given a CHOICE. You can or you cannot. How profound. There’s a book called “East of Eden” that has a character that has a wonderful discussion involving “Timshel”. He is asking about a passage in the bible 4Genesis particularly the 7th verse. The KJV says “7If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.” The ESV translates it as “7 If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.” The character looks at “thou shalt” and “you must” and begins to question why the difference. “Thou shalt” he sees as a promise from God that Cain will triumph over sin while “You must” he considers a demand that Cain triumph over sin. He wanted to know why there was a difference so asked someone he knew that spoke understood Hebrew to explain this. In Hebrew it says “ז הֲלוֹא אִם-תֵּיטִיב, שְׂאֵת, וְאִם לֹא תֵיטִיב, לַפֶּתַח חַטָּאת רֹבֵץ; וְאֵלֶיךָ, תְּשׁוּקָתוֹ, וְאַתָּה, תִּמְשָׁל-בּוֹ. If thou doest well, shall it not be lifted up? and if thou doest not well, sin croucheth at the door; and unto thee is its desire, but thou mayest rule over it.” Neither “thou shalt” or “you must’ but instead “thou mayest”, implying a choice to conquer over sin. Does Timshel change the meaning? Does it imply that God gives us the choice to overcome sin? Choice. Such a small but influential word. Choice meaning it’s a decision we must make and thus live with its consequences. What a powerful thought…

Friday, February 18, 2011

Even books can be ghetto?

Can someone please tell me why there are books that look like bootleg CD’s? Why are there books with titles like “Marry your baby daddy” or “Ridin dirty on I-95″? Why are these called “urban books”? Urban, as in black you mean? I understand our people need to read more. I know, reading is fundamental but really? This is the best we can do? We couldn’t come up with something more positive for our people to read? We REALLY enjoy playing up to the stereotypes don’t we? It’s a damn shame that this is the best we can do. This is nothing to be proud of. Once again, we have got to do better my people.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Let the locing begin

So I have made a big decision. I am going to loc my hair. Yes, you heard me right I am locing. I have actually received quite a bit of positive feedback from my friends. I am so surprised at the encouragement that I am getting, especially from the black community. Why am I surprised at the support from MY people? That's easy, every negative comment I have gotten about my natural hair has been from a black man or woman. When I first decided to go natural I was met with negativity. "Why did you cut off all that pretty hair?"<--friends back home. "Your little fro looks like a burnt Q-tip."<--coworkers. "Are you going to get a texturizer to loosen the curls?"<--parents. "When are you going to get another relaxer?"<--family and friends. Yeah none of that was too encouraging, but I simply smiled and learned to let their ignorance of natural hair roll off my back. Yet every other race that I have encountered had nothing but positivity for me. "I love how thick your hair is!" "Look at those pretty springy coils!" "OMG the big hair is awesome, you should wear it more!" Why is it that the majority of support couldn't come from my own people? Why is my natural seen as unnatural by my people? Why must we always be so negative to one another? I almost went back so I could make everyone else happy. Then my hair started to grow. Then my curls started to show. Then I realized God makes no mistakes and if this is the hair He gave me then I have no reason to be ashamed. I have absolutely no regrets about my choice to be natural, my hair is healthier than ever. Now I want to try something new. Now I want to let the twists I always have be a little more permanent. Now I want to do whatever I want to do to my hair. So now I start my locing journey. There will be ups, downs, twists, turns, progress, and setbacks. You know what though? I am going to sit back and enjoy the ride. AND AWAAAAAAY WE GO!

Monday, December 27, 2010

Misery loves Facebook

Why, oh why does every status have to be about someone doing you wrong. These people are fake. This person is all in your business. Your man/woman is doing you wrong. This person has broken up with you and you just cannot understand why. Have you ever stopped to think maybe it's you? If you whine all day like you whine on Facebook I wouldn't want to be around you either. You put a play by play of all your business on your page and then complain about people being all in your business. I particularly love the lyrics from whatever "you did me wrong you will get yours one day" song of the day that you post. AND OF COURSE THESE ARE THE PEOPLE THAT LOVE TO TYPE IN ALL CAPS TO MAKE SURE YOUR STATUS IS SEEN. Why hasn't someone slapped the annoying-ness out of you yet? Has no one just grabbed you by your neck and shook the sh*t out of you? Have you ever heard the saying " the definition of insanity is doing the same thing but expecting different results"? If that is so then you are as insane as they come.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Don't ask, don't tell, don't be so freaking stupid.

The "Don't ask, Don't tell" policy was finally repealed. Yet Virginia's very own Delegate Bob Marshall, in an effort to be as backwards and ignorant as possible, wants to ban gays from the National Guard. Um, what? Didn't the rest of the government just say screw that, if you want to fight be our guest? Please explain to me why you, Mr. Marshall, still can't accept it? What, does a gay not deserve to fight for his country because he is gay? That alone should totally make him ineligible? Well since you don't like gays would you like to removed colored folks too? Maybe we can re-segregate the military. Why stop there?! Let's hit the school system too! Gays in their own school, gays in their own hospitals, gays drink from different water fountains, gays use separate doors... Oh, you aren't singling them out? It's because it can undermine the military? Really? Can someone explain how being gay makes someone less of a soldier? Is a soldier going to stop in the middle of a war and say "I know we are being shot at right now but can he not be a part of my platoon, he's gay"? Do they not fight the same fight? Do they not go through the same training? Do they not feel the same loss of losing a comrade? Oh, they do? Then what exactly is the problem?

Monday, December 13, 2010

Hilarious

I find it funny, no in fact hilarious, how people thrive off misery whether real or imaginary. Especially when it comes to relationships. The moment you look like you are upset or the moment you have an argument everybody wants to give you the "I told you it wouldn't work" look. Not every disagreement is THE ONE that is going to end the relationship. Not every fight is reassurance that you were right when you said it wouldn't work. Why do people enjoy unhappiness so much? Why do people seem to relish any moment that seems like you are having a hard time. They want to know "what's wrong?" or "what happened?". They don't care really, they just want to know your business and enjoy the fact that you are unhappy. They just need something to talk about when they get around their other miserable friends. Do you not have your own life to live? Don't you have your own business to attend to? Do you not have your own relationship to build? I guess not or else you wouldn't be in other people's lives would you?

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Closure for the Phoenix

This post is for you, you know who you are. You won't see it though because I made sure we would never have contact again. I need closure, closure I didn't get because when the shit hit the fan you had already left the country. I never got to say what I needed to say to your face. Instead you got to walk away free and clear so I shall say my piece now. Thank you. Thank you for showing me how strong I can be. Thank you for showing me I can get back up when I fall to my lowest. Thank you because I now have a new friend that was my pillar of strength just as I was hers as we got over you. Thank you because now I know what I want in a man. In fact thanks to you I have a wonderful man in my life that gives me everything you didn't. I should be bitter. I should hate you. Yet your inability to trust has taught me how to trust. Can I lie and say I don't want to hit you in your pretty little face? No, in fact I want to see you bleed but I will get over that. I kind of still want to set both your cars on fire (you don't need to be in them, after all I am not a murderer. Violent but not a murderer). I want to cause you the same amount of pain you caused Peacock and I but what good would it do? It would be a temporary win, a false positive if you will. Instead I am going to go with God and my late Mother's teachings. Instead I will forgive you, forgive you and forget you. I will continue my success that I have achieved. I will do what I always do, I will rise from the ashes because I am the Phoenix...

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Looking back on the year

This has been one hell of a year. I got cheated on by some miserable ol' loser. Gained a wonderful new boyfriend instead. I graduated nursing school. I got my first job as an RN. I finally spoke to my estranged sister (I haven't forgiven her yet but that is going to take a LONG time. I lost my wonderful Grandpa. I met the cousin I have been trying to meet for four years now. October 18, 2010 at 11:55 am marked eleven years since my mother died. I passed the NCLEX and made the RN title official. I am getting surgery to finally fix my jaw. Things have just been a blur really. One day I am slamming my Acute Care book closed screaming "I can't do this!" the next I am looking at the board to see which patients I have. Its funny how sometimes you can't picture your future during the present. It seems surreal. It feels like I am talking about someone else when I say I am a nurse. Its a strange yet beautiful feeling to sign "RN" behind my name. There is something else I feel. I feel like I deserve this. I have been through enough in my life to earn the good times that are here and the good times to come. This is my time. These are my blessings. This is my life. It's time for me to live it.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Dear NCLEX

Dear NCLEX,

I am writing you to tell you I am not scared of you anymore. You do not dictate my self worth. You are simply a test, a generic test created to make nurses feel like they don't know anything. Well you know what? I know a lot more than you think I do. I can save a life if I need to. I don't work in your perfect little hospital in your unrealistic world and I am totally ok with that. Instead I work on a floor full of chaos with a group of amazing nurses that can show me how to handle it. I may not know which cardiac drug fits in which category right off the top of my head but I can damn sure tell when it isn't working correctly. No, I don't know the Tanner stages of development for pediatrics but I know a sick kid when I see one. So to you NCLEX I say this: give me your best shot and watch me ricochet it right back at ya...

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Barbie? Really?

Can someone, anyone please tell me how are young girls no longer wan to become woman but want to become "Barbies"? So as a female you want to be a fake unrealistic replica of a woman? Really? At first I really blamed Nicki Manaj for this bullshit. As if our little girls don't have enough ridiculous images thrown at them! But as I take more time and think about it she isn't to blame, it would be easy to blame her. No this goes much deeper. This is what happens when moms stop being "role models" and started being "friends". Moms have stopped teaching their girls how to hold themselves to a higher standard. Moms aren't telling their little girls to be the best they can be. No, moms are now teaching their girls how to "drop it low" at three years old and posting it on youtube. Now moms are going out with their daughters to parties. Now the grandma is 45, the mom is 30, the daughter is 15 and pregnant. We have seriously got to reevaluate what we are doing...

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The dumbing down of us

Since when is it cute for you to speak with such ignorance that I can not actually understand you? Why am I spending minutes, not seconds, deciphering your facebook status because it doesn't make sense? When did dumb become the new smart? Why do I now feel like a minority when I go out to certain places and listen to conversations? When did being educated go out of style? Did I miss something? Was there a newsletter that came out that stated we should forget the strength and pride of those who came before us and instead live up to the porch monkey stereotype? When the hell did my people get so... dumb? You can name every member of Young Money but you can't actually read the lyrics if I put them in front of you. You can walk around with your pants so low that you might as well just take them off but you can't walk to put in some applications and get a job. Your car is sitting on 22's and yet your babies don't have diapers. You talk about how their is nothing in your neighborhood, nowhere for you all to go, but the moment something is built you and your boys are the first ones breaking in. You talk about how drugs destroyed your family and your hood as you sell crack to the mother with 4 children and no food. You complain that someone is always trying to hold you down but you never actually tried to get up. When did we give up wanting to be teachers, doctors, lawyers? Now we want to play basketball or maybe football, and if we are being really ambitious we want to be a rapper. How did calling a woman a "five star bitch" become acceptable? Does this bother anyone besides me?

Monday, June 7, 2010

Build up to breakdown

After three years it turns out the man I though I knew, I knew nothing about at all. I loved and thought I was loved. Instead I was one of many being "loved". I gave my best and he gave his best performance. When the truth came out I didn't feel anything. I didn't hurt, I wasn't angry, I wasn't sad. Today is a different story. Today my heart is heavy. Today I am ashamed for being so stupid and blind. Today I am angry that I was used. Today my "slap-a-bitch" hand is tingling, not for her but for him. Today everything is hitting me like a ton of bricks. I never wanted to let a man make me cry and yet tears well up in my eyes. I never wanted to let a man steal my joy and yet I can't even fake a smile. I thought I was stronger than this and yet here I am. I guess I am going to go through several emotions over the course of this healing process. I will yell, scream, smile, cry over and over until it is done. I know that in the end I will come out stronger than I was before. I have to because I am a De'Braux, I am my mother's child and the one thing she gave me before she left this Earth was her strength.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Change is gonna come

A couple of weeks... A couple of weeks stand between me and probably one of the biggest achievements of my life. I will be done with nursing school in a little over two months. I will have a career that I have wanted for years. I will be done with school, at least for awhile. I will have finally done it. Yet I am afraid. Don't get me wrong, I am not afraid of being a nurse, its my life's passion. I am afraid of the change to come. My life will change and I am sure for the better, and yet... I am afraid. I know why and it bothers me that it, well, bothers me. I am afraid of what others strive for. I am afraid of NOT having to work so hard, of NOT being a student, of NOT having to be full time here and there. I am afraid of having down time. Since the death of my mother I learned to deal with emotions by NOT dealing with them at all, just keep myself busy. I graduated high school with honors because I threw myself into school. I immediately got a full time job after school. I then went to college, never below full time. Since I was 19 years old I have been a full time employee and student somewhere. I have barely had time to sleep, let alone grieve and now I am afraid of what will happen when I DO have time. I don't want to think. I don't want to grieve. I don't want to feel. I just want to keep floating through life like I have been. I don't want things to change and there is the problem. I know me, I know the person I am. I won't sit back and enjoy my new career, my free time, my increase in pay. I won't travel, spend money, and have fun. I will work full time, and get a second job or probably try to find a reason to go back to school so things stay the way they are. Being stretched to the limit has become my comfort zone. Not dealing with my emotions has become my norm. I don't know how to just LIVE, to just BE. Its like the 90's movie "Speed", if the bus slows down or stops its going to blow up. I am that bus, if I slow down or stop I am going to finally explode from the inside out. I am afraid of all the things I will start to remember, all the things I hid away, all the things I never dealt with. I'm afraid... I'm afraid

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Reflection

Stood in the mirror and took a good long look at myself and noticed all my flaws. My head is just too big. My eyes are such a plain brown. My hair is just too thick. My lips are just there to hide these damn braces. My fingers are so long and skinny. My chest is too flat. My hips look so big. My feet are so large. My skin has such a funny pink undertone. My waist isn't small enough. I am just not a pretty girl. As I stood there tears began to well in my eyes. Everything that could ever be wrong with a person was wrong with me. How could someone love this? I reached to turn off the light so I wouldn't have to see my reflection anymore but stopped. Something whispered to me "my child, look again." I raised my head and saw my real reflection. This big head is full of knowledge and fits me just fine. The plain brown eyes can see right through your bull. This thick hair is God given, gorgeous, and natural. These pouty pink lips are made to be kissed not just to hide my braces. The long skinny fingers will hold the tools to save your life soon. My bra size does not make me any less feminine. These are some good ol' fashion southern belle hips right here! These big feet keep me planted firmly on the ground. This pinkish skin was my mother's skin and it just as beautiful on me as it was on her. What man wants a small waisted woman anyway, he wants something to hold on to and I have it. You're damn right I am not a pretty girl, I am a beautiful woman. How can someone NOT love me?

Saturday, February 20, 2010

No thanks, I will tough it out

For over a year now I have had an issue with my knee. I have great health insurance, and I work in a hospital... yet I will not go to the doctor! I know something is wrong, I can feel it worsening day by day. What makes it so bad is I just got done yelling at my friend for not going to the doctor since she was sick yet my leg is about to fall off and I am trying to shake it off... What the hell is wrong with me? How can I become a nurse and try and educate people on how to take care of themselves when I am letting myself fall apart? What is my aversion to the doctor? I frustrate myself beyond belief sometimes...

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Not black enough?

Somehow being black has a definition, a definition that I am not familiar with. I have met those that think I am not "black" enough because of who I am naturally. I speak in complete, understandable sentences. I don't like 99% of the rap I hear on the radio. BET does not entertain me in the least. I think Baby Phat is beyond ghetto looking. I don't watch "Real Housewives of Atlanta" because I think those ho's are idiots. I cannot stand to see little girls with a gazillion beads or barrettes in their hair. Somehow that is what makes a black person black... WTF? So when is "black" about what you do instead of who you are? Yes I am an oddity but so what! So I watch Japanese cartoon in Japanese. So what if I like rock more than rap. So what if I like Aeropostale over Apple bottom. That makes me what then since it means I am not black? I will tell you what it makes me... It makes me Shaunelle De'Braux. Take that for what it is.