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Discount Utility Day: A Family Affair 10.25.04
03:26 PM • 0 comment(s)permalink

Last Thursday I went to Utility Discount Day, an annual "event" here in DC. I had no idea what it was until I had to go myself. The local utility companies (Washington Gas, Pepco, WASA and Verizon) all get together to have a massive intake for people to apply for discounts for each company.

When I arrived on the doorstep of the Convention Center, it was already packed. They had you get in line to wait in another line to get a number to wait some more. The first number I pulled was 2,151 and they were calling groups of 50. Oh, when I got to the room they were on 800-850. Not going anywhere for a while?

Some folks were vets, I could tell. Packed lunches, stuff to amuse the kids, extra batteries for electronics....they was ready to camp out. Being the rookie that I was, hunger and boredom settled in fast. Yeah, I had a book to read. Somehow I felt it quite unappropriate to read about welfare reform at that particular moment. A press conference was held and Holmes-Norton spoke of how the funding can help District residents and how disappointed she is that so many people need help and the administration isn't taking notice. As I moved closer to the speakers, she stated that Congress is trying to cut funding for such programs. Big surprise there.

I looked around the room in awe; I'd never been around so many people before. Ghetto divas, hoodrats, senior citizens and average joe's showed up in hopes of getting some relief from the burdenous utility bills, notably Washington Gas. I wonder if anyone, other than myself, paid attention to the press conference. Did the statement, "Congress is trying to eliminate such programs from its budget." fall on upon deaf, indifferent ears? It irritates the hell out of me when people don't pay attention to what's happening around them.

I see this as a part of gentrification. The projects have been bulldozed. Police presence had increased. They coming back in droves. Gettin real nice incentives to come back too. A building about 4 blocks from me is in the process of being renovated to be sold as almost upscale condos. I'm feeling the press of the economy as I wonder how much force is gonna be needed to uproot me.

•   •   •
I'm Chillin 10.18.04
08:35 PM • 2 comment(s)permalink

I'm feelin better n stuff. I've gotten more support via cyberspace than I have from the local humans in my life. Aint that a trip? Baby Daddy 3 trynna come back around after the fuckshit he pulled and lack of support through this whole thing. All of a sudden, he's in love. I have every right to hate him, don't I?

This guy decides to make a trip to DC, all unannounced n stuff and I can't even clear my schedule to see him. He aint shit.

Been fussed out by Elmo again. (in case you forgot, he's my trainer) Why now? Cause I skipped the gym for two weeks, getting out of shape again (round is a shape, btw) and told him how happy I was to have Prime Bear in town.

*cricket chirp*

Um...he didn't like that so much. I got fussed out. "I KNOW you aint runnin the streets tonite>" On and on and blah blah. Certainly wasn't the response I was expecting. It was cute though. He should just gon' and break me off.

•   •   •
I'm Not Okay, But I Will Be 10.14.04
10:19 PM • 3 comment(s)permalink

I need a hug.Today was a crappy day. Well not really; I was just in a shitty mood. I'm not prepared to deal with these feelings. And I feel terrible. As if I don't have enough going on.

It's official: my last day at work is Feb. 1. I should have another job by then, right? Right. I'm really not feeling optomistic about this shit. My only contingency plan is to put this loan into forbearance and collect unemployment. Other than that, I don't know what else to do. I really want this transition to be smooth. The CIA process is finally over and done with. At least on my part. My file has been sent to the adjudicator and he or she has the final say so as to whether or not they can grant a security clearance for me. As a last ditch effort, I hope this works out.

My kids have decided they want to act a fool: my son not behaving in school, my daughter having issues with telling the truth. I'm so irritated right now. Why can't they just act right?

And Elmo....his niggardly ass overbooks today, giving another woman MY space that I reserved with him a week ago. I'm so not pleased. Nevermind I have no business trying to work out. How is he gonna reschedule with me when she's the one that left leaving that time slot vacant. He had the nerve, the audacity, the BALLS to ask me if I'm mad. Then he gon' try to lecture me bout doing cardio. I not so nicely asked him why he was still talking. And then he's gon parade his clients in and out...right in my face. How dare he. He's gon' catch it Saturday morning. I can't catch a break no matter where I turn.

•   •   •
The Aftermath 10.13.04
09:05 PM • 2 comment(s)permalink

Healing is going to be a long process.

Sunday, the day after, I felt...okay. I didn't do much of anything during the day. Running out of tp compelled me to carry my ass over to the corner store for an emergency pack, which was only 1-ply. I'm still flummoxed over the fact that 1-ply tp is still in production. Why?

Because I was able to handle walking up the street, I felt that I should be fine to head out for an interview and grocery shopping on Monday. I took a cap to the interview, not to tire myself too much. I'm still feeling pretty good. I tolerate the Metro ride back to the hood to go to the grocery store. I stop for lunch and all is well. That is until I'm halfway through my shopping. I'm starting to get the worst pains ever and the check out lines are winding down the aisles. Things slowly unravel.

I come home and tell the kids to put away all the stuff that has to be frozen or refridgerated, and of course this falls on deaf ears. I come into my kitchen to find cucumbers on the floor and salad mix still in the bag. Damn them.

The treatchery didn't start until Tuesday morning. Time to go to work. I'm having the worst cramps ever. Cramps are an understatement. My uterus is actually contracting as though I was in labor. I had no idea what to do with myself. I was in a lot of pain, so much I was shaking. I'd never experienced anything like that before. I swallowed my last handful of Motrin (about 6) and prayed for that God dude to take my life. Surely death would be better than the pain. He's no angel of mercy.

While my uterus is contracting, I remember what contractions are for: to push stuff out. I'm thinking "Oh hell there's a body part left inside." and that made me nauseaous. I hoist myself onto the toilet and several blod clots pass through. Not sure if they contained any foreign objects and I certainly wasn't going to examine them to find out. My daughter made me some tea, to ease the pain. It tasted absolutely terrible, bless her heart. I drank it anyway and the warmth helped. The children didn't want to leave me alone and I refused to let them stay home. School is a better environment for them. No need to have them around watching me writhe in pain. Eventually I pass out. I pass out long enough to remember I didn't call my job and tell them I wasn't coming. Someone called and I gave em some story and was pratically left alone for the rest of the day.

I asked the father to bring me more Motrin. Of course he didn't. Selfish bastard.

I never want to experience that kind of pain again. I'm still angry with myself for creating this situation. Those feelings may never change. I'm angry with myself for having any kind of relations with this guy, knowing he's a big fat nothing. It's likely those feelings won't change either.

Blonde Wonder still hasn't spoken to me since IHOP nite. She'll be okay. I wasn't aware that what I choose to do with my uterus was such a concern of hers. She'll be okay. I haven't seen Elmo in two weeks and I know he's going to be curious about my bloating and what the hell happened. I have no idea how I'm going to get around telling him what happened. He and I have a bizarre bond, unspoken but acknowledged. He's gonna look at me and be able to tell something's up. I don't have the energy or desire to explain.

I've pissed a lot of people off. I'm not bothered by that. What I am bothered by is the fact that these people really believe I should do what they want to appease their souls. What does this have to do with them? My karma isn't their problem. If by chance, I'm to catch hell later in life for what I've done, I'll deal with that. That's how that shit goes down.

I live life on my own terms. They'll have to get used to the fact that I think for myself and enjoy doing so.

I've had a lot of support from my cyber friends, and I thank you for it. I was able to go to work today and stay the entire day. I even did a little shopping. I started to cramp a little, but 5 Motrin knocked that out in no time. I think I'm going to be fine.

Now I'm focusing on getting my life back together, realigning myself with my goals. I'm making plans to head back to school in January and getting that degree that seems damn near out of my reach. I've renewed my job search, even though I've completed the CIA process, I can't allow myself to become complacent.

•   •   •
Did It 10.10.04
12:25 AM • 5 comment(s)permalink

Last nite, I was feeling all types of anxiety. This isn't a procedure anybody looks forward to. I couldn't sleep. I was worried my ride wouldn't show. The what ifs...

*NOTE* This post contains graphic content of my experience in the hands of an abortion doctor. If you're the least bit squemish or a pro-lifer, do us both a favor and click the red X in the upper right hand corner of your screen.

She came through. Lucas has been my homegirl for years, 16 to be exact. When I told her bout the shit with EvilAsianX and Blonde Wonder, she told me not to concern myself with it. This was comforting to a point, being that she too has flaked out on me on occasion. This is a situation she can relate to cause our lives are very similar and she knew exactly what I was feeling.

When she came in her arms were full. (she's a tiny lil thing, btw) She brought milk and juice for the kids and a space heater so my room won't be so cold. She's never been a selfish person and I was grateful for the gifts, being that I know her situation is just as hard as my own.

We take a few twists and turns and find the place. It's very quiet, clean and suburban. The small group of protesters at the bottom of the hill with posters of babies, full born and utero were very peacful. These protesters were mainly old(er) white men.

I arrive, sign my name and piss in a dixie cup. Wait. Fill out forms. Wait. Pay. Wait. Watch video. Wait. That waiting shit drove me insane. I guess they're giving time to those who really aren't sure if that's a procedure they want to go through with. It's a heavy decision no doubt. By 1, (I'd been there since 10:30) I was ready to slit my own wrists from the excessive. Finally my name is called and my heart takes residence in my throat.

I'm lead into an exam room where I'm instructed to undress from the waist down and cover my bottom half with this thing that appears to be a square of toilet paper it's so damn small. I wait some more. They're all about this waiting thing. The bitchy spanish nurse swoops in some minutes later to lead me to another room, bottomless and all. Precariously placed upon the table, I have to maneuver this way and that to get the best angle for the doctor, who was also a monumental bastard. Is it really required to be a heartless bastard to perform this kind of procedure? I wonder if he gets some perverse thrill out if it. Possibly, he should seek mental help.

He inserts a wand type apparatus to find out how far along I am. After looking into the crystal ball, he concludes I'm about 11 weeks. My cervix is pried open with the speculum and everything went downhill from there. He injected my cervix with a numbing agent (which hurts like hell and he and I had a few choice words) so I wouldn't feel as much pain. Being fully awake for this procedure is one of the worst things I've ever experienced. When he told the nurse to "Get the knife" my breath stopped for a few minutes. I replayed the video in my mind because I don't remember them mentioning a knife at all, only suction. I stare at the flourescent lighting, mad at myself for bringing my life to this dismal place. Somewhere between my self loathing and emotional outburst, I was informed the procedure was complete and I needed to get dressed and move on to the recovery room. All that was left of me was a small jar full of blood.

I get back home and tell the dad it's over and done with. He's...speachless. He can't believe I went ahead and did it, let alone without him. He'll be okay. He swears I didn't tell him, but of course I did. If I remember correctly, he's the one that told me he wasn't giving me any money or going with me, but he's mad at me for going on my own. The hell did he think I was gonna do; bitch, whine and stomp for his insolence? Sit complacently and wait for him to place some money in my outstreatched hand? OOOOOHHH or how about not go at all cause his financial support was crucial and his refusal would leave me with no other choice but to keep this child? Fuck outta heah with that dumb shit. I told him what I was gonna do, when I was gonna do it, HOW I was gonna do it and God bless the man that's able to stop me. No nigga's money is gonna control me. Ever.

I do not regret my decision at all. As far as I can tell, I'm healing nicely. I was very sore yesterday and couldn't sit up long. I'm fine today. I think I can even venture out to the grocery store. What I do regret is the situation I created for myself cause I know goodness well I had no intentions of being with that man, being that in my eyes, he has very little value. The week I was broke, which wasn't long ago, I asked this nigga for $40 so I could eat for the rest of the week, and you know what this nigga says? "I aint got it" Aint.got.it. Feeding this baby starts now, not 7 months from now, and I certainly don't have the patience to deal with his cornucopia of deficiencies. My world is right again.

•   •   •
Do What I Wanna 10.06.04
05:14 PM • 12 comment(s)permalink

**Expand the entry for dinner details**

Everybody's talking all this stuff about me
Why don't they just let me live?
I don't need permission, make my own decisions
That's my prerogative

(The Britney Spears version sucks ass. Bobby should slap the shit outta her just like he did Whitney.)

EvilAsianX and Blonde Wonderwant to get together for dinner tonite. Why? To discuss my life, my choices and what I do and do not want.

Some of you know I'm 10 weeks pregnant. Some of you don't. I'm not excited bout this. I see it as a setback that needs to be dealt with. Others have different feelings. That doesn't particularly matter to me. I was unaware that my life and my decisions and what I choose to do with my unborn child was up for group discussion.

Pro-lifers, I don't knock you. I'm pro-choice, therefore I do as I see fit. Nobody is gonna tell me what to do with MY body. Period.

Details of dinner convo shall follow...

I showed up and we had to wait for EvilAsianX, as always. Lemme tell you, a hungry EvilAsian is a cranky EvilAsian.

Anyway, what this all boils down to is their pro-life stance and what they feel I should do with my life, my body and my child. They knew before they even sat down that I'd already made up my mind. I've made my decision. I don't see this "dinner" as an invervention for me, but as a way for them to clear their own conscience and spew their moralistic beliefs. I am not you. Your life is not my own. They're concerned about the fact that I'm not showing any emotion. I'm not an overly emotional person. I guess they'd be more comforted if I were crying and repenting along the way. I'm dealing with this in the manner that's most comfortable for me; I wasn't aware that it would be necessary to defend my choices for any reason. I do as I see fit and no one can stop me. This nigga don't wanna give me any money, fine. They don't want to give me a ride, fine. I'll make my own way which I've grown accustomed to doing. For these reasons, I don't ask anyone for help. I suspected some shit like this, that's why I put some money up. I was told that I'm selfish. I'll be that and some extra shit. This selfless thing has gotten real old and frankly, there's no one more important than me right now.

They won't be hearing from me for a hot minute. There's nothing to say. This way they can keep their good Catholic consciences clear. God bless em both.

•   •   •