Friday, May 16, 2014

Blind Baby

My whole life, I've not been able to see much, if anything, out of my right eye. I never saw it as a problem.  I guess in the theory of you can't miss it if you never had it.  I was under the assumption my mother knew this about me, as I assumed it was the same for everyone. 

I always heard growing up that everyone had a dominant eye. Guess I didn't realize or even care to notice that didn't necessarily mean everyone was blind in one eye.

When I was younger, I remember doing eye exercises with my mum. I wore an eye patch over my "good" eye and followed her finger with my blind one. See, the doctors only told her it was a lazy eye. Said that the muscle needed strengthening and by doing the eye exercises when I was younger, it would learn to follow the other one. 

So now I have crazy independent muscle movement in my one eye.  They never said anything to her about my sight.

Even doing eye exams in elementary, I remember looking in the binoculars and they told me to look at the colour dots left to right, and the next row right after.

"Green blue blue, red yellow green, yellow yellow blue."
"No no, read them all the way across into your right eye hole too."
This time, when I was reading the colour dots, I put my left eye in the right eye hole to see the rest.
"No sweetie, read it with your left eye."
"I can't. I can't see it."

I remember the woman giving me a crazy look like I just told her I shit my pants or something.
She scribbled something on the paper and called for the next student.

Years later, when I was fourteen, I had an eye exam.  I hadn't had one in years but the doctors at the hospital insisted- I had a history of migraines. Once, so bad, that I ended throwing up stomach bile and getting two bags of fluid pumped back into me.  Wasn't until that little emergency visit that it was discovered it was the strain on my eyes. 

My mum signed me in and we waited until we were called.  I was checkin out the glasses that were lining the walls. I always wanted glasses. I was jealous of people that got to wear them.  Glasses for me are like shoes for most other women. Well. I do love my shoes, but you get the comparison.

When I was called into the room with the chair, my mum came in with me instead of waiting outside in the waiting room.  The doctor introduced himself, had a quick chat about when my eyes had been checked, and the problems I'd had. He turned off the lights and the exam began.  Starting with my left eye and covering my right, it was damn near perfect, reading the smaller lines with ease and without pause or strain.

Then he covered my left eye. A little squinting, as I always did in classes and church. Not that I could see anything even if I squinted, it was just a reflex.
"What's the smallest you can see?" He asked, referring to the chart.
"I can't." I said.
He changed the slide to something bigger. Nothing.
Bigger. Nothing.
"Well, this is the biggest we have for letters..." and he changed the slide to something that covered up the entire wall.
"I mean, I can tell it's a 'W' now, but it's not clear. it's still blurry."
He turned the lights back on and took the equipment away from my face. I saw it in my mothers eyes that she was mortified. I looked at her confused, remembering the eye exercises I did when I was younger. She knows this already. The doctor gets really close with some other equipment, staring into my eye.
He leans back, and hands me a black stick with a circle on it, " Hold this up to your left eye."
I did so, and he says, "Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up? Don't squint."
I stare for a minute. "No."
"Tell me when you can."
He comes closer and closer, and finally, "Well I can tell it's three but not that I can see it clearly."
"What about here?" He holds them right in front of my eye, almost touching my nose.
"Still blurry though I can tell you're closer.

"Well that explains your migraines," he says, taking the black stick away, "your left eye has been over compensating for your right. A lot. Glasses can help balance it out, though lenses wouldn't help your right eye vision. You'd need that corrected with surgery."

He grabs his writing things again, scribbles," I'll be back with more information about that. I'll send my nurse in with your prescription.

He leaves the room, and my mum looks at me, mouth gaping open. "Nicole.."
"What? Mum, I've had this my whole life. It's nothing new."
Tears well up in her eyes, "I didn't know you were damn blind! The doctors told me it was a muscle problem! No wonder you look at the floor when you walk around!"

"I thought everyone was like this? Doesn't everyone have a dominant eye?"
"Not everyone is blind!" I could see the panic of a mother.

Then she goes off about how it's her fault. Something about me coming out head up and my face gettin the shit beat out of it by her womb.

By that time the doctor has come back in, "Is everything alright?" Looking at my mum.
"I just didn't know she was blind. I would have done something before now."
He starts going on about corrective surgeries and the expenses and blah blah blah. I have it all tuned out. I was stoked I had the option of getting glasses. I was finally gonna be a cool kid.

Sarcasm highly noted. No child in their right mind craves glasses save myself.

My mum looks at me after he's done. "Well. What do you want to do?"
She was out of her right mind. I understand wanting to provide for your child, but those surgeries were out of the question. Far out of the budget.

"I've had these eyes all my life. I walk around just fine. Glasses sound good to me."
I could tell my mum was still upset that I didn't want more, but relieved I didn't.

"Okay, my nurse will take you out to look at some styles."

I jumped up out of that chair so quick. I instantly ran to the pairs I had been eyeing earlier.
"No," my mother said, "there will be no Drew Carey glasses in my house."
I was so bummed. So my first pair were little green wire frames. When I got a few years older I got some thick maroon square ones. Then I had my own money and there's been grey octagons, fire red rectangles, and fat ass black squares.. I still love glasses. And my migraines almost instantly dwindled to nothing as soon as I started wearing glasses at that young age.  I'll notice headaches now and again when I don't wear my glasses. My coworkers always fuss at me for it.

There have been other instances that catch people off guard that I'm blind.

In my senior science class, we were doing experiments with light and the dilation of pupils. A partner had to see how much the pupil grew when it was covered in complete darkness to when a flashlight was shined directly in it after. My partner did it on my right eye.

"Woah" He said.
"What's up?"
"It didn't move. Like it all. It isn't getting smaller."
"Oh, sorry. Didn't know that would happen. Try my left eye."
"Hey Teach!" He called over, "Check this out!" My teacher did the same experiment on my right eye. Same result.
"Oh. Did you know your eyes aren't responsive to light?"
"Probably just that one. I'm blind."
"Oh..."

Even at the DMV when I tried to get a Mississippi license. They wanted me to take an eye exam at the counter. Reminded me of when I was younger, "No ma'am, read it with your right eye."
"I can't. I'm blind."
"What in the hell you doin' drivin around blind?!"
"Been doin it since I was fourteen."
"You gotta have a doctors note. I can't give you a license!"
I started to walk.
"Wait wait I have an idea. Cover your left eye and try to read it."
Yes. Because had I known covering my left eye my entire life could cure blindness.

I stormed outta there.

And that children, concludes the story of why I have lived in Mississippi for two years and still have a Montana license.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Asian Goo Goo

Everyone has that one band/comedian/famouswhatever that they've been waiting to see. Sometimes years after they discover them, sometimes their life. I finally got to see mine. I've been waiting since the ripe age of ten, even before I knew you could actually go to concerts to see these people in bright lights.

Friday was a shit day.  It was supposed to be my day off, but being a loving employee for one of my three jobs, I headed in to slave some hard workin hours.  I didn't seem to be on my game and my boss seemed to hate every minute of it.  Maybe it was sleep deprivation. Maybe it was because I really REALLY wanted a day off. Three jobs, c'mon. The stars finally aligned and I didn't have to go to any of them? I should have known better. 

But. I knew what was happening that night. I had to stay strong. Fight the fatigue. WIN. AT. POTATOES. It's part of my job. Not important right now.

Five rolls around. I'm so tired and irritated I almost don't care. I barely say two words and roll out. I'm so drained. Hungry. People are blowing up my phone but I don't want to talk to them. I get home, smelling like food, and strip as soon as the door shuts so I can get a shower. Prepare myself for the night.

My night. The one I've been looking forward to.

Goo Goo Dolls.

Yeah I know, not necessarily a band anyone ever gets choked up on. Only a million hits of theirs hit top charts and they have the number one song of last decade (Iris) but no big deal. 

I have a very profound appreciation for this band.  The only band I can think of that has always been huge since the eighties and has managed to keep coming out with amazing music without swearing every other word, constantly talk about humping someone, or sell their music with the the whole worldly mantra of "sex sells". They sell. The purity in their voices, instrumental sound, and their overall humbleness. 

Most of all, Johnny Rzeznik has been my crush before I could even flirt. I remember the first time I heard Sympathy, one of their top hits. Later, Iris, on the radio.  The older I got, the more hits I heard from them, the more I decided they were the band for me. They sang about something different. Or at least in different ways.

About saving the world. About taking a break and sitting back and just being kind. About children who can make a difference but we need to say prayers for them so they actually can instead of being held back.

We can all bump and grind to the pussy/money/weed songs, we can all bang our heads to music that embraces our pain and screams lyrics with us, and we can all drink to the sing-talk about ... well who the fuck knows what that crazy bitch sing-talks about. Jack and coke. Fuck.

Seriously though, Goo Goo Dolls has always had an impact in the musical world. A chance to think about something new.

I'm getting into a bunch of different tangents. Back to the story.

I get a shower. Do the hair. Put on my war paint. Dress. Heels. I wanna look nice. Look my classiest.

Then I start laughing at what I'm wearing. GOO GOO DOLLS! ALTERNATIVE ROCK!! I'M DRESSED FOR AN OPERA!!

So I strip again, throw on my Chucks, plaid shirt, fuck up my hair, and now we're golden. Time for sushi.

*FFWD*

I roll up to the casino where they're performing. An hour early. People probably aren't rushing for this. Probably not a crowd waiting. But I am.

Elevator is quiet. I walk through the lobby. The casino. Take a right. Straight. It's all a blur. I am in a one track to get to the goal.  Line. Not too big.  I withdraw cash.  I know I'll be getting shit. My favourite band. How can I not?

Small talk in the crowd. I'm not surprised I look to be the youngest. This is an 80's band after all. Still timeless to me.  Name.

Name and Broadway. That's all I wanna hear.  I'm not thinkin they'll play songs that aren't a top 20. So those are the two I go in there wishing they would play.

They open the doors. A patient crowd. No one is rushing. Pushing. Not even at the tee and CD's table. I walk up to it as everyone is passing by. I want something now so I don't have to beat the rush out to get something later.  I remembered this from the concert I went to in Canada.

A light brown tee with pink and orange writing. I already like what I see. Buy it. Make small talk with the sales guy as he's not busy right then and there.
"So you get to tour with these guys all year eh?"
"Every time."
"You're so lucky," I say with a half-sided smile.
"Eh, it's just a job."
I look at him half crazed and shocked.
"Hey buddy, you wanna trade you hit me up!"
"I thought it was cool when I was twenty."

I mean. I understand selling tees for a living can't be too exciting, but you tour the world. With a respectable band. You have a guaranteed place to stay. What could be more perfect?

I smile and walk off.

I enter the venue. Big. But even the shitty seats are good ones. Not too big. I see a big arena in the center. Probably for VIP. Bastards. By the time I even got wind Goo Goo was comin here, I didn't even have the chance to get a VIP anything.

I hand my ticket to an usher. I don't feel like more small talk.
"Right there, miss." He points just a row up.
I smile and go accordingly.
Just people watching for the next hour.

The usual. Tipsy, happy women, men carrying beer, the occasional sexy Asian...
Then I saw a group of sexy Asians. They walked in front of my row and through a side curtained doorway to the right. Now I hated them. Probably more rich VIP bastards.

An hour later the lights went dark. A few bodies on stage began to move. Cheering ensued.  Then the bodies were lit.  A voice, "Yeah. So we're not the Goo Goo Dolls." Laughter throughout the room.

It was the Asians that walked past me!
"This is the second time we've had the pleasure of opening up for the Goo Goo Dolls. It's an amazing feeling. We're Run River North."  Lemme tell you... they were nothing short of amazing.  They were strings/ acoustic.

Six of them on stage.  The closest thing I can compare their sound to is Mumford and Sons.  Violins, small drums, beautiful and raw voices... that lead singer could wail. The lead gal had no strong stage presence but her voice rang through so smoothly.  Enough to make up for her very still body.

The night couldn't have started more perfect.  The ginger with yellow fever gets to see her favourite band and opening for them is the most beautiful site she could ever wish for. A Christmas miracle.

After their songs, the lead makes mention they were going back to their booth to sell their CDs and things and to drop by. I waited five minutes before making a move. So they could get out there.

When I got out there, a line, but one I could wait for. I knew the Headline wouldn't play for another 30 or so.  Creating tension.  I stepped up to buy a CD. I opened it.  "Sign it for me please?" They were very humble and happy to do so, thanking me and other fans for our support.   Fans were getting some of them to take pictures with them.  I waited for the perfect moment and asked them to all just squeeze together. A happy little Asian family photo. I return to my seat.  A couple to my left. A couple to my right.

Dear god, please don't let any of them be the type that sing. I came here to enjoy the music. Not to hear lyrics be butchered.

The lights dim again. Cheering. Bodies running on stage in the dark. I don't even remember the first song they played. I was in my happy place. My moment. Staring. Smiling. Eyes watering.  They finished the song. Johnny Rzeznik is talking. Talking. In the same room as me.  I see his face on the big screen next to the stage. I look from the screen to him. Talking into the mike. 

Never. Has a V-neck looked so good.
Never. Have camo cargo pants looked so nicely snug on a man's rear.
Rockin the Chucks. 
That signature hair of his- perfectly feathered and blonde.
That smile.
He looked as ever good as he did when he was young.

Sympathy. That's the second song they played. My eyes couldn't hold it in any longer. I began to cry, his voice so authentic.  So real. Untouched by synth, auto tune, or any other unnatural alteration of voice.  It was really him. 

More songs, more cheering, and then finally the lights change to a different pace, another voice stands out on the stage.  Robby Takac.

Now, for those who just like Goo Goo and aren't really huge fans, people are lookin at this guy like, Dub tee eff, mate? Because they didn't know that Goo Goo Dolls has another lead singer.

Now this guy, he's always looked like he belongs in some emo or screamo band.  Kind of a stocky guy, medium black hair...but his sound totally meshes with the band.  He has a very distinct and very unique voice.

He plays his song Smash from one of their older albums.  Now those of us who know who the hell this guy is get jacked! He has a certain energy to him. Very charismatic. Next he plays January Friend!! Being a January baby, I have a love for this song, also an older one. 

His voice like it never aged a bit. Hitting those high notes. On pitch. Jumping around on stage. What an awesome site.

The concert went on like that. Of course, they end the show with Iris. I smile. People all around the room are singing and I don't care.  It's the song that everyone loves. Their biggest hit. It's not one of my songs I came wanting to hear, but it will suffice.  They didn't play my songs, but I got to see them. Live. After all these years. So many shows passed and missed opportunities and finally. In my loved city.

The lights go dim as they say goodnight. The crowd roars, "ENCORE! ENCORE!" and no one is moving. The crowd in the arena is jumping, clapping their hands. The people in their seats, including me, are not moving.  A good five, ten minutes pass. They seriously aren't coming back. I didn't expect it, but we can all hope.

You see Johnny walk on stage, guitar in hand, "You know, it's crazy that we got this far." The crowd goes crazy, all members walking back on stage. "I'm gonna play one for you..."

No way.

"Our very first hit on the radio..."

NO you're NOT.

"This one is called Name."

I about shit myself jumping out of my seat. I didn't care. I started screaming with everyone else. 

Throughout the whole concert I was very quiet. Sat in my seat in awe. Didn't sing. Clapped on good occasion. Like the first time I saw a giraffe up close. I didn't do anything but stand in the awe.

I heard the first two plucks of that song and jumped and ran- ran down to the area where all the people were standing. Luckily the security guard knew me from going to the club there so much so all he did was wink.  I couldn't stop crying. My song was playing right before me.  Such a sad song, beautiful song, satisfying and relaxing song all at once.  Closer to his face, I still saw that Johnny could feel what he was singing.  His voice coming out still so very pure.

The song ends. He looks to Robby as the crowd goes insane and BAM! BUSTS OUT WITH BROADWAY!! The other song I was dying to hear!! Now the crowd is pumped, know the show is coming to a true end and everyone i jumping and clapping to the beat. 

So perfect. Such a shit day turned into a night I won't forget.  Everyone left smiling, talking about what a good concert it was.

I'm not one to fangirl about things. I've seen a few celebrities in close encounters, seen lots of famous bands with decent music, and I've never really gotten overly excited, knowing the fact they're people like me.  I just can't believe I finally got to show my appreciation by buying a ticket and enjoying such a delightful concert. 

Mark that one off the bucket list. Next? Flight attendant.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Take a Stand for Women

I live in a shit part of town, I won't lie. When I first moved to that little apartment, it was because it was the cheapest in town and within a 30 minute walk to my work if I needed.  Old management used to put in airmen and navy guys living around me, knowing I was the only female living in that section.  When new management took over, they really didn't think who was living where, they kinda just accepted anyone who had money and put them wherever space was available.

Over the past year I've grown to hate where I live.  Bum neighbours asking for rides, can openers, nonsensical conversations about things that keep me from getting to work on time.. just idiocy in the multitudes.  What bothers me most is I can't tell you how much more often I've seen the police in my little roundabout. 

The night after Christmas, Porter and I were chillin out max and building a puzzle when approximately 10:30pm I get a knock at my door.  I open the door and it's my neighbour lady, sobbing, covered in blood.  Without hesitation, I pull her in and lock the door and the latch. 
"Can I use your phone?" She musters out through thick mucus and snot.
I bring her to my kitchen sink, asking her what happened, and as I get a better look at her in the light, I can tell it was nothing pretty.

Her nose is without a doubt, busted.  Blood had been rushing from it for quite some time.  I see a big fist-sized pool of blood  on her shirt where her nose and mouth had been draining to.  I lift her freezing hands to the hot water which are also caked in blood.  I grab some towels to wipe her blood stained purse off.  Her hair is matted. 
I ask again, "Sweetheart, what happened?"
"I walked here," She started, her hands trembling under the water.
"We were at his sister's house, we'd gotten into an argument," and from the smell of alcohol on her breath, I could tell it was an angry drunk one. 
"He beat the shit outta me so I walked home. I been sittin out there for about an hour and he still hasn't come to let me in yet."
"You don't have a key?" I inquire.
"I haven't had a key at the last three places we've lived at." She looks over to notice Porter sitting on the couch and starts sobbing. 
"Do you want me to call the police?"
"No, could I just borrow your phone? I just want him to let me in."
I look at Porter concerned, he has a blank expression giving no persuasion either way. I hand her the phone once she dries her hands.
She dials a few times, drunk dials I guess, and finally a right number.
"Can you come let me in?" She says firmly.
I hear him on the receiving end but nothing audible.
"I just want to get into the apartment."  She hangs up on him.
"May  I use your bathroom please?"
"Of course" And signal her the way.
I get a call shortly after. It's the same number she has dialed. It's him.

For those of you well acquainted with me, I have a very low tolerance for this kind of shit.  The women that are nearest to me, by heart and within arms reach, I hold under my wing if I can because more often than not I'm the strongest thing between them and the man. Sometimes stronger than the man.

I answer the phone sternly. "Hello."
"Where's Angel? Who is this?"
"This is my damn phone, you called me."
"Well let me speak to her."
"No, you have two choices jackass, let her into the damn apartment or I'm calling the police."
"Fine you can call the fuckin police."

Alright.

I look to Porter. "You think so?"
"Yeah I think you should."

911, what is your emergency?
"Yes, I'd like to report domestic violence. My neighbour just came to my door covered in blood.
She asked for my name, I gave it. My address, I gave it.
Do you know where the male is now?
"No, this didn't happen at my place. It happened a few blocks away."
Is the woman still there with you?
"Yes ma'am, would you like to speak to her?"
I put Angel on the phone.
She tells them what she told me.  Two minutes later, police show up.  We live about a two minute drive from the station.
One of the cops gets all her information, then his age, race, and vehicle.
"He's not in his car, he drove off with friends. I'm not sure of the vehicle."
He looks to me and gets my information, "Want me to stay with you?" I ask her after I'm finished.
"Please do." She says.
"Has this ever happened before ma'am?" The cop asks, the second cop taking photographic evidence and calls in an ambulance on his walkie.
"No," She said as she looked down. I looked at her with a crazy face. I knew it wasn't true.
"We've been together eleven years. He's just drunk is all. I just want to get into my apartment so I can grab some things."
The cop looks to me. I just softly shake my head, a face of concern.
"Do you have any idea where he might have been headed ma'am?"
"No. I just know he's not at his sister's anymore."
He asked for her address and Angel complied.
By that time the paramedics came and checked out her nose. She refused to go to the hospital, "Can't nobody pay for that shit." She said.
"It really does need to be set, miss. You don't have to come in the ambulance with us but we highly recommend you get it checked out soon."
She nods her head.
The cop gives her some pamphlets about domestic abuse and woman care facilities. 
"If we can catch him within the next 24 hours, he'll go to jail and if not, all charges are dropped and there's really not a lot we can do from there unless you call us again. If you see or hear from him again tonight ladies, please feel free to give us a call."
I could tell the sincerity in this man's voice. To him, this wasn't just another call.  I could tell he was as bothered by this as I was.
"But sir, how will I get back into my apartment? I really just want to get in." Angel added.
"Oh well your maintenance staff will have to take care of that." He shrugged apathetically.
"I have the number," I remembered it saved in my phone.
The police leave and the guy comes to let her in.  All is quiet for about thirty minutes.

I hear Angel screaming from next door, "They're comin for you! The police are comin, so you better get away from here!" Then a knock at the door.

I know it's not Angel.
I look at Porter, then get up and grab my bat I keep behind the door.
Adrenaline took over and I swug the door open, bat ready.
He was already running to his friend's car before I even stepped out the door.
He gave me one last glance as I put the phone to my ear.

911 what is your emergency?
Hi I just called about the domestic violence? He was here.
I described the vehicle.
Okay we're sending someone that way.
"You really don't have to, he should be around your area by now. Send out the description."
I knocked on Angels door.
"They're comin for you! Leave me alone!"
"Angel! Angel it's me!"
She opens the door, "He was here! I locked his ass out!"
"I know I know, good deal, I called the police again."

Moments later the police showed up.
The cop walked toward us, "I told the receiver it really wasn't necessary."
"I know, but the train caught us," he explained, a discontent face appeared.
"We got the call but the train came through."
I understood. The copper station might be really close but the tracks are what divide us.
"Just call us if you see him again. We'll be on the lookout for his vehicle." He left.

"Girl leave his ass. You don't deserve this. I'll beat his ass with my bat given I see him again."
"I know girl. But I have to. I have no where to go. I can't have my kids here with me because of him. I don't have custody."
I refer back to the pamphlets, "Yes you do. anywhere is better than here. Do it for your kids."

About an hour after he left I got a call from him.
"Oh so you wanna call the cops on me bitch? Huh? You wanna start some shit bitch? Oh we gon' see. Yeah we gon' see. Stupid bitch." And hangs up.
I casually go back to my puzzle making.
"And?" Porter asked.
"It was him. Just threatening and stuff. But I feel safe with you here, I ain't worried," and flash him a smirk.
"I dare his ass to call here again. I dare him."



To wrap this up, no, they didn't catch him that night. It was the next day that his ass finally came back and starting packing things into the car.  I haven't seen her since then.  I do know that every time Porter comes around, no matter what the jackass is doing, he runs so fast into that apartment it's funny. Seriously, you threaten a white girl associated with a 6'5'' beast of a black man? Hell no. You're not winning anything.


Bottom line. If you know anyone who is in this situation, help. If they've been in the situation forever like Angel has, maybe all they need is that extra push. Stop feeling bad for them and start telling them what they need to hear. That it isn't worth it.  Not all 'Angels' in the world (so to speak) have a rock hard ginger neighbour to run to for refuge.  Not all Angels in the world have a man that will be a man instead of a puss that beats on her just because he can.  Report these situations, people. Make it known.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Token end of The Year Post

Alright y'all, the end is here. I believe this will be my last post of the year. I wasn't sure exactly what it should be about. I hate New Year's resolutions so I don't think I'll be listing any of those. I do, however, believe I'll be giving y'all an overview of my year. Accomplishments, random highs, and yeah, even embarrassing moments and failures.

I had one hell of a year for 2013.  My first complete year to live in Mississippi since I'd moved away when I was younger. Every birthday, holiday, adventure, shenanigans all in Mississippi. Well. Mostly in Mississippi.

January I started the year out right with my birthday, having a gingerman over from New York.  I got woo'ed by him and also beat out him and his friend from hitting on a waitress and getting her number. Score for the ginger lady.  I also got a ginger cat named Bacon Shamus who drove me up a fuckin wall and after only a couple months of having him, gave him away to someone who could give him the attention he needed.

Lots of gingery in the month of January.

February also started out great with bartending school where I (didn't know at the time) met the gal who would become my best friend and my rock, Kandy. I also managed to get pulled over for intoxication of a vehicle I wasn't even driving and, the best part, in which no one was even drinking in. That's right. Dick cop saw a bunch of youngsters having fun and didn't think it was possible without the liquid courage. Womp womp.  Also finally got to participate in Mardi Gras and caught seven spears!

March was just smooth sailing. Making friends in school and learning who to avoid. It was the start of real friendships that would last and some that would later get me into trouble at the clubs.

April I finally found someone who would show me the ropes going to the clubs throughout the Gulf Coast. How to mingle for an easy drink and dip out before committing to a lame one night stand. Free drinks and shots began a new lifestyle for this northerner.

May is when I get my big news- no longer a housekeeper but a barback.  Then I got a second job as a bartender as well for a little while.. found out that one was a huge bust... I find out barbacking is everything I was looking for in a job.  Hustling for tips, add on a swag and a charm, along with hard work and keeping the bar under control. I meet some awesome people my age that I can hang with. I also scored a gig of (supposedly) seven hundred Indian guests. Dot, not feather.

June I take a trip to the past and fly up to Montana for a deliciously German wedding! Visit with old friends, tell them of all my new adventures, and invite them to come with me to create more. By the end of the month, I buy my baby... my '73 Volkswagen Beetle. I also meet some interesting people in the club and my dancing days come crashing in Biloxi when I find my friend isn't a friend at all.  My girl Kandy comes to the rescue and shows me what's up in Gulfport.

July is when I finally get to see New Orleans in my adult life.  A full year of living an hour away and I'd yet to find someone to adventure it with me.  This time I had five others- coworkers from my fantastic job.  Then 7/20 rolls around. For those of you who know my superstition, you know it was a big deal me losing my dream job on that day. A week before my probation period ended.  My world gets shifted out of motion.

In August, one of the shifty characters I'd met in the club introduced me to someone I wouldn't ordinarily talk to.  Some Brit he worked with.  One word was said about Volkswagen and BOOM the nonstop talk of the cars began. I'd finally found someone I could relate to and count on.  He taught me about the cars and in return I made banana bread and paintings. Oh, and finding another job as a barback was easy enough. Only unemployed for a couple weeks max.

September I was getting into my new swing of things working as the new graveyard barback and spending a lot of time with my new acquaintance.  Still in high hopes of hitting something big but the part time barback job was enough to keep my bills paid so I wasn't worrying. Kandy and I meet two more gentlemen at the club. Later to form what we call "The Group" and our own little makeshift family.

October... always my least favourite month of the year. A high superstition about this one as well, my heart strings are tugged on in all different directions.  I lay low for this month. Work. Mema. Home. Work. Mema. Home. Kept it simple until Halloween bartending gigs and the big Halloween party at one of the clubs. Ya girl here got schmammered.  Unlike in previous times though, I had a pack of friends with me that had my back and wouldn't let anyone try to harm me... not even some unsuspecting black Superman.

November I'm officially working more shifts on day and after a month of both grave and day shift barbacking, I'm a day walker. Took some getting used to and even a time or two of being late before getting into a "normal" sleep pattern... I'm still nocturnal.  Mister VW and I decide we're better friends and yes, to this day we are still talking and social.  My inner artists kicks in and paintings and puzzles are popping up everywhere.

December is where we bring my year to a closing. I talked to my boss at my old job, I don't want to spoil or jinx anything, but things might be looking up.  As for me and men? Well I think I've narrowed my search to just one. If he behaves, we'll see.  Last night I had to get out my baseball bat and call the cops, but that's a story all in it's own.

I did edit out some things throughout the year. Moments I couldn't pinpoint like when I finally joined the 21st century and got a cellular communication device- even has picture messaging! No matter how damn oldschool the phone is.  Things that I did in this year I told myself I never would. A night where ruphalyn might have been involved. You get the picture. Just a lot of crazy things in 2013.

For all of my friends who have always wondered what it would be like in a day of my shoes.. here's a whole year for you. It's an extraordinary life and it's mine.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

It's a Small World After All

As y'all know by now, I do enjoy my clubbing from time to time. Not that of the baby seals, just the dancing, occasional drinking, and ego boosts from getting hit on by men.

A couple Thursdays ago, me and my ladies went to one of our favourite night clubs- we get in and drink free on these nights. It was a typical night, not one worth going into detail about. The usual happened:

  • Dodge the man in a jumpsuit rolling on acid
  • Dance to the songs we know
  • Avoid 'creepers' and shank a bitch if one tries to mess with one of my girls
  • Mildly  make fun of the go-go dancers who are terrible at dancing

    Typical evening.  
There was one gent in there kinda worth mentioning- a light skinned mulatto who eyed me from the edge of the dance floor. His approach was graceful and polite, his dance moves within the realm of ordinary black man moves, and his smile genuine. With him, the evening went on in waves.

He'd come for a dance, I'd stay for one, run back with my girls and continue our thing until approached again.  Once or twice he'd asked for my number and all I replied was "We'll see how the night goes." By the end of our evening when we were cutting out early, he makes a last attempt and I politely take his phone and enter in some random ten digits and tell him my phone is in the car.

We walk away, nothing to be seen here, nothing out of the ordinary.

Now the next week one of my main ladies was in town and upon request wanted to go to the same club as it is a favourite of her's as well. Thursday nights are always good nights so we go in and our usual yet again:

  • Dodge the man in a jumpsuit rolling on acid
  • Dance to the songs we know
  • Avoid 'creepers' and shank a bitch if one tries to mess with one of my girls
  • Mildly  make fun of the go-go dancers who are terrible at dancing

    Typical evening.
Until the nightmare of all of the wrong-number-handing-out girls' happens- the same guy sees me in the club.  I act natural, give him a wave, smile, and turn to dance with my ladies, sending the face of red-flag. It's our code face for abandon ship.


Of course, he casually came over to dance again within the night and told me the number was wrong.
"Oh that's weird," and gave him another fake. 

See, I have this problem with being rude or tellin someone to 'fuck off' if they really haven't done anything wrong or been mean in the slightest. So, giving out a wrong number and crossing my fingers I'll never see them again is the nicest way to let them know it's just not gonna happen.

We walk away, nothing to be seen here, nothing out of the ordinary.

Two days ago I started my workweek again. Ate the usual lunch down at the employee dining area (tuna wrap with spinach) and on my way back to the casino entrance, I look over at valet like I usually do to see who's coming in out of pure curiosity.

I'll have you know I see that delightful son of a bitch.

I'll also have you know he works for the same casino. In valet.

When I looked over, he was walking up to the doors and at the same time, we smiled at each other, I gave a half-assed wave and our facial expressions were similar; perplexed and thinking, hm. I've seen them somewhere before and as if our brains at the same time made the connection to the club, our eyes got wider and awkward oh shit smiles came across our faces.

I didn't stop, just kept walking and ran to my cocktails to gossip to them.

"BUSTED! You are sooooo busted!" One of them said as I concluded my story telling them who I just saw.
"Just tell him. Tell him you're taken if he says anything. That's understandable." Said another.
"Yeah, I know, it's just so weird! This never happens!"

The same day I did have to pass valet again to drop off the dirt rags in their determined bin. Headed back to the casino, he's walking toward me this time, smile on his face and we both start laughing.

"Oh my gosh hi!" He says with a hug.
"Haha hi. You're the guy from the club, aren't you?" I blush, wincing with embarrassment.
"Yeah yeah that's me. I was so drunk when I was there..." he chuckled a little, almost apologetically.
We're in good humours so I cut to the chase.
"So I totally gave you the wrong number on purpose." I start laughing. He laughs too, "Oh I asked for your number? I didn't even know! Oh man I was so gone that night. I remember us dancing a little," He says, a big smile still on his face.
"Oh really? It was no big deal, you didn't act an ass or anything, I'm just dating someone and I didn't want to give you a huge shut down is all."
Still chuckling at the whole scenario,"That's great! It's really no big deal, I don't even remember half the night!"

You would have thought we were old friends carrying on the way we were.
"Yeah I was there with him actually," Gesturing to one of his coworkers. He started walking toward the sliding doors to the outside and I also took my cue to head back to my post. "That's cool, I'll see you around."

And that, people, is why you always stay polite, courteous, and spare people their shame as often as you can. Never know who you'll run into again or work with.  

Friday, November 1, 2013

Halloween is Sexy

Alright so if you haven't heard it from the movie Mean Girls, you've heard it somewhere else at some time in your life: Halloween is the one day a year a girl can dress up as a complete slut and no one can say a word about it. Right?

Whether at Halloween parties, clubs, jobs that let you dress up, or even in passing at WallyWorld, we've all seen it before, some gal's gotta be wearing lingerie. Either an ass cheak hangin out there, a tit poppin up here, belly buttons pokin out there..you get what I'm sayin.

This year I decided to go a different route. I've been all the comic book chicks in years past and always wore some kind of corset one colour or another. I wanted to be comfortable this year. I didn't want to try to vamp anything. Just wanted to dress up as a recognizable character that would make people go, Oh I see what you did there.

Velma. It was perfect. Awkward. Giant glasses. Large orange sweater wearing adorable nerd with her own kind of classy appeal.

I'm like a modern day Velma...


It was super easy. Short brown hair wig? Check. Overly large Orange sweater? Check. Found it at Ross Dress for Less the week before. This was gonna be cake. Didn't have to go out and spend a ton on a costume, I already have huge prescription frames and awkward Velma boots. I wouldn't be uncomfortable in the club- other than the fact it was damn hot in that thing. The alcohol drowned out any perception I had of temperature though, so it was alright.

But that's not what this story is about. Moving along...


My girl Kandy was lookin fly as the lady hatter, tasteful in her cute little corset over a tutu and matching jacket over top. We waltz up in there not giving a damn. It was ladies night on Halloween night and the place was bumpin, ladies everywhere, guys were barely a trickle in the crowd.

We saw sexy sailor girls, sexy jungle girls, sexy Alice, Jessica Rabbit, gypsies, and of course just the lingerie ladies. Most of the guys had some sort of gory or funny costume. Then there were the toolboxes that just had on unbuttoned button ups wearing shades and called it a costume.

The night was great. The music was  bumpin, the people jumpin, and toward the end of the night I'd gone up to the bar again for a drink. The entire bar was packed but a very tall very chocolate Superman had turned to notice me and made room for me to step up. I thanked him with a smile and his eyes went large and his mouth started to drop into an open smile.

"VELMA!" He said.
"Haha, yeah that's me. I'm impressed. Most people tonight notice the character but only get about as far as that chick from Scooby Doo."
"Velma where have you been all my life? I've had a crush on you since I was eight."

Keep in mind, I do believe this man is about mid thirties.

I laugh a bit and thank him. I then notice on the front of his costume it says "Superfly"
"Oh I see what's going on!" As I point at his chest.
"You like it? I thought it was pretty good. Let me buy you a drink."

MAHAHAH Me? Really? Fucking Velma?

"Sure." I smiled.
"What you drinkin baby girl?"
"Gin and tonic. Tanquere."
"Gin? You don't mess around. Yes ma'am."
I allow him to buy me the drink and charm me.
"I must be gettin back to my girl. She's on the dance floor." I make a notion to the floor.
"I understand. Thank you for joining me Velma. Velma, Velma Velma mm. The years have been good to you."
I giggle and saunter back to Kandy.
"Where'd you get that?" She eyebrows at me.
I told her what happened. She smiles and says "Ahhhhhh shit girl!"

We continue to dance, and a while later Mister Superfly comes to the dance floor.
"I've been watchin you," he says moving in to dance with me.
I look to Kandy and she shruggs and laughs with out guys we were with.
I allow the man a dance but part of my posse didn't like the way he was handling me so they kept draggin me back to the pack. Eventually the guy got the gist but before making his way back to the bar, he pulled me away one last time.

"This is my room key. 2430. I want you to join me tonight. No pressure. I understand you got a man over there but if he's not yours then come be mine." He was gesturing my little group who was now eyeing me like I was being killed.

I just smiled at the man, he grabbed my arm slightly and I looked back. "Remember the number?" He asked.
"2430" And I walked away.

Of course I didn't use the key but it was a nice souvenir for the evening and a Halloween to remember. Who needs to sneak into a hotel room when you have a man waiting at home for you?

Either way, moral of the story ladies, out of all those pinups in there, all those sexy, tight bodied, flesh bearing women in the club, the nerdy ass, bulky sweater wearing nerd got the room key. Don't sell yourself short. You don't have to look like a harlot to be wanted. Just have to rock whatcha got :)