trying to find the magic in survival

[TW: sexual misconduct/abuse]

as some long time readers may remember from the start of this blog, i was molested by a family friend when i was 8 years old. i still can't do splits. i repressed it until i was about 15 or 16 and i'm not entirely convinced that the family member i told believed me. if memory serves, i found out that the family friend in question had long disappeared or was dead or something...basically he wouldn't be a factor and life could go on.

and it did, to a certain extent. my cousin's husband thought it'd be a brilliant idea to show me a porn movie at the end of one of our movie nights. i was 16. somehow we went from watching "single white female" to porn to my cousin's husband exposing himself to me locking myself in the bathroom until my younger cousins (his sons) were all ready to go to bed and then locking myself in the bedroom. i still have difficulty watching certain pornography because it brings me back to that helpless teenage me who knew enough to know that something wasn't right but didn't have the agency or the voice to speak up.

i never told anyone in my family about my cousin's husband. i knew enough to know that my father and/or one of my brothers wound end up in jail for avenging my honor and i knew that my cousin's husband worked in law enforcement and had connections that i couldn't begin to fathom and i didn't want to break my cousin's heart b/c she was my favorite cousin by a landslide and i also knew that i had to stop visiting them which broke my heart b/c she really was my favorite cousin and i looked forward to those summers and random weekends where we got to hang out.

i am saying all of this to say that the #theemptychair hashtag on twitter, along with the cover of new york magazine depicting some of the women victimized by bill cosby, was a punch to the gut and this all came back. i am lucky in that i had partners who helped me work through my guilt and angst when i first became sexually active. i am lucky that i have had the opportunity to recognize and deal with those feelings of guilt and angst and disbelief and, gods be praised, came out stronger for it.

the decision to write about this tonight was not an easy one. i wrestled with it during my ride home because, for reasons that should be obvious, i don't necessarily like revisiting these things. i would journal about it, i reasoned. if it was on my mind that much then i could just scribble a few lines in my journal and be done with it.

all i kept hearing was "this is all part of the work." it finally occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, telling my story and recognizing the privilege inherent in being able to tell my story, would be my way of honoring those people who are sitting in that empty chair. this would be part of the work of meeting people where they are and telling them that they are still more than enough, regardless of the pain that's been inflicted on them. this would be part of the work of reminding myself that yes, i am still more than enough regardless of the pain. a reminder this work is not in vain. an opportunity for me to see that it is still possible to be a magical black girl in a world that, i swear, seems hellbent on denying my humanity. a chance for any and everyone else who has a similar story that maybe they cannot or will not tell to see that they are not alone. that they are not the only ones represented by that empty chair. you are seen and you are heard and you are loved and you are more than enough.

let me say that again.

you are seen and you are heard and you are loved and you are more than enough.

amen.

on: attempting to keep up the (good) work

PARTY TIP: True inner strength is not seeing any realistic way you're going to make it, but still knowing somehow... you will.

— ANDREW W.K. (@AndrewWK) July 13, 2015

if you follow me on twitter, then you already know that i retweet andrew w.k. at least once a week. this one particularly resonated with me because i've been mulling over the phrase "this is all part of the work" since yesterday. the phrase came to me while i was reading elizabeth alexander's "the light of the world" and having my heart broken into tiny pieces and yet feeling like she'd been spying on my life. i tweeted a few things from the book while i was reading, and then i had to jot down "this is all part of the work" and let it sit for a bit.

"if i cannot take a walk with you and talk my way to the other side of the dilemma, i am not enacting friendship." © @ProfessorEA

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) July 12, 2015

that's part of the work, i think - being able to walk with someone and talk our way through whatever's on our minds, or at least enjoying the silence while we're on our journey.

meeting people where they are and occasionally leaving them there, as i've been trying to be more conscious of this year, is part of the work.

meeting myself wherever i am and accepting myself flaws and all? part of the work.

i've said more than once that this empath/caregiver role is not an easy one for me, and yet i have to admit that the more i accept this path, the better i feel. i was at a friend's birthday gathering last weekend and she asked us all to check-in with how we were feeling physically, spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually. i said that spiritually, i was feeling as strong as i'd felt in a long while, and that i was sure it had something to do with no longer denying this caregiver position i'm attempting to play out. emotionally, though? i was wiped out. so many of us (self included) are going through so many things in our own lives, not to mention being impacted by events far and wide and closer to home and everywhere in between, and there were definitely moments where i had just had to retreat for a bit so i could try to get my shit together before being able to reach out to others.

this is all part of the work.

i wish you happy (hockey) feelings

it's no secret that i distinctly remember where i was when the blackhawks won the stanley cup in 2010, b/c that was the night troy & i decided to call it quits. we all know my memory can be shitty, but even i can recall that with little to no effort.

and then there was 2013. i definitely remember that one, despite my levels of unsobriety, b/c having the cup back in chicago that year meant so much to me during this whole divorce/eviction/couch-surfing/un(der)employment/what the fuck is happening to my life phase that i've been in.

and now 2015. omg you guys. i had to work during game 6 and as soon as i was able, i was on the train to meet my friends at the bar while listening to the radio feed on my blackhawks app and keeping an eye on twitter and it is entirely possible that i started crying on the train when i realized the cup was once again coming back to chicago. a friend and i had both said in october that we wanted the cup back in our city. our reasons were varied, but the sentiment was the same.

cta wasn't playing nicely and i missed all of game 6. i finally got to the bar to celebrate with my friends only to realize that the bar was closing up and i couldn't have a celebratory beer until i got home, which i totally did, obviously, because beer is delicious and if i couldn't have one at the bar (they seriously wouldn't take my money. i tried!) that night, then bedtime beer it was going to be.

i drank and cried and tweeted and talked to my friend and we cried a little on the phone because we can be sappy like that and everything was wonderful.

not just because of hockey, though.

i gave my 2 weeks notice at the library the night the blackhawks won the cup. why did i do that?

because i got a new job.

a full-time job, even.

a full-time job in my field.

a full-time job in my field that is going to pay me more than i've previously made in my career to date.

i start july 1.

a few of you knew about this already and i appreciate y'all keeping the news tucked under your proverbial hats. now that all of the pre-employment stuff is done and i am in receipt of an email that basically says "hey, all that paperwork and testing is handled and you can officially start july 1," i can shout this from the rooftops.

holy fucking shit i start my new gig next week. my last day at the library is saturday. i am freaking the entire fuck out.

so...suffice it to say that i was crying that monday night for various reasons. i was happy because the cup was back in chicago and i was happy b/c i'd gotten a job that is totally going to challenge me and kick my ass and i might be getting teary just typing this.

i still haven't seen game 6 in its entirety, but damned if i didn't cry every time i saw a condensed replay. hell, i cried while watching the video they showed at the blackhawks' victory rally.

so many happy feelings, you guys. i am totally crying right now, btw. quasi-landlord almost made me cry the other day. "i am so proud of you. you never gave up. you kept putting yourself out there because you knew that something better was within your reach and you got it."

it is 2015 and the cup is once again back in chicago and i am still in chicago and i have a new job. this is most exhilarating.

thank you all for your unwavering support. it means so much more than i'm able to articulate right now. :-)

on: anita baker's "compositions" album

one of the problems* with being old is realizing that some of your favorite albums are officially old and you have that moment of disbelief b/c you'd swear up down and sideways that said album just came out yesterday. you also start thinking that you're not possibly old enough to have some of your favorite albums be old enough to warrant mentioning their anniversaries, but then you do the math and realize that yes, it really has been that long.

(*-obviously this is not an actual problem in real life, but you know what i mean.)

that was me today when i read that anita baker's "compositions" album is 25 years old. my memories of that album are so vivid that there's no way 25 years have passed.

1990. james was still living in daddy's basement. james bought "compositions" on cd and i promptly borrowed it. a lot. that cd wound up in my room at least once a week. i'm sure i made a copy of it on cassette, but i distinctly remember a few instances when james would come upstairs looking for his cd and i would just hand it over without a word.

1990. i was 13. what in god's name did i know about love and relationships and heartbreak? very little, and yet you couldn't tell me that anita baker wasn't singing about my life. even then, i identified with the song "fairy tales," and that identification only grew stronger as i got older.

if you would have told 13 y.o. me that in 25 years, i would still be listening to that album, i probably would've laughed at you. if you would've told past me that in 25 years, both daddy and james would be dead and all i'd have left were memories of me in my room listening to "compositions" over and over, i probably would have been horrified…but here we are.

earlier tonight, i listened to the album in its entirety for the first time in ages. it's still one of my favorites, albeit a sentimental one, and i almost felt like i was back in my room, stretched out on my bed, looking at all of the posters on my walls, and singing along with anita like my 13 year old life depended on it. i know james isn't posting up in my doorway looking for his cd, but i'd be a lying liar who lies if i said i didn't wish that would happen.

recipe review: chicken with honey-beer sauce

i found this one in my files while digging through and/or organizing other recipes, and decided to keep it out since i'm always looking for new and interesting ways to cook chicken. quasi-landlord bought a shallot before she went on vacation and i had beer in the fridge, so i had everything i needed to make this for dinner tonight. well, except for the parsley, but i rarely use parsley anyway.

this is another recipe that didn't call for garlic, so i chopped up 2-3 small cloves of garlic and threw them in with the shallots. i used revolution brewing's fist city beer because i had a can of it in the fridge.

verdict: meh. it wasn't terrible, but i wouldn't go out of my way to make this again anytime soon. i kinda wish i'd made some mashed potatoes to go with the chicken and with the roasted carrots i made earlier. oh well. maybe next time i try this, i'll make mashed potatoes and it will be better b/c mashed potatoes make everything better.

recipe review: sweet potato, sausage, and green pepper hash

part of my adulting while quasi-landlord is away is making sure i have food both to take with me to work and also to eat when i get home from work. so far i've been pretty good about meal prepping on my days off so i don't have to think too much about what's for lunch/dinner, or about what i'm gonna eat when i get home late from an evening of shenanigans.

that said, i figured i should also try out a new (to me) recipe or two while i'm home alone. this one seemed easy enough, plus the main ingredients are all things i enjoy.

i didn't make the fried eggs, though, b/c i'm not a fan of fried eggs. obviously you could make them if you wanted.

here's what else i did differently: i used 1 large sweet potato because that's what i had here. i also used about 8-10 ounces of turkey italian sausage because that was in the freezer. i used a green bell pepper instead of an anaheim pepper because we all know my tolerance for spicy food isn't that great. i bought a 10 ounce bag of spinach, and i added a 1/2 teaspoon of garlic powder when i put in the cumin because garlic makes everything better.

result? nom. would make and eat again. you might want your sweet potatoes to cook a little longer, depending on how soft or firm you like them. if you're using a different type of sausage, you may want/need to add seasoning as you see fit.

beware the gratitude police

i tweeted earlier this morning about not wanting to go back to work today. it's true - i've been off since last wednesday and there's been enough insanity going on at work that i really don't want this break to end. i also mentioned that yes, i know, i should be thankful to even have a job, etc. that doesn't mean i have to like everything about it.

that was a preemptive strike against what i'll call the "gratitude police." you know them. they're the ones who always have something to say whenever you're even remotely negative about something. "ugh, i have to go to work." "you should be glad you have a job!" "dammit, i need to clean the house/car/garage/whatever." "don't you know how lucky you are to even have a house/car/garage/whatever?"

for me, the annoying thing about that is yes, i actually do know how lucky i am. anyone who's been paying attention to my life during the past 4-5 years knows that i will readily cop to being thankful/grateful for where things are vs. where they could have been. that doesn't mean i can't complain or whine about it. pretty sure there's no hard and fast rule about just shutting up and being grateful, and if there is, then i'm ok with breaking that rule.

still here

i honestly don't know how i'm still here some days, but i'm here. this week was a clusterfuck on myriad levels, ending with the news that a colleague's husband died suddenly this week.

one bright spot, if it can be called that, was this snippet from my colleague's family about the memorial:

In lieu of flowers, the family has made the following request: "Please donate to something very meaningful to your own beliefs - or in the ways of (redacted), befriend someone who needs a friend, or take someone to lunch who looks like they could use it."

i'm not crying, you're crying.

have a good weekend.

me, miss janet, and the babygirl syndrome

i was having a bit of a lazy sunday morning earlier. y'know, the whole "take a shower and go back to bed and watch tv" kind of lazy? while watching tv, the video for michael & janet jackson's "scream" came on. i hadn't seen it in a while.




something struck me while i was watching it this morning, though. for the first time in a long time, it was obvious to me that janet & i have something in common - we both have what i'm calling "babygirl syndrome." we're the youngest. we grew up with older siblings. we love those siblings even when they say or do things we don't quite understand. we do our best to honor that bond.

at the same time, though, we're always striving to create and establish our own separate identity. janet's not just "michael's little sister," just how i'm not just my brothers' little sister. never mind that some people still introduce me that way when the other person has previously met one of my brothers.

think about it. janet has always been cast in the supportive little sister role in her family. artistically, though, she's put in hard work to show people that yes, she's her own woman with her own voice and opinions. i can recognize it because i've done the same thing. my brothers drive me up the fucking wall (as longtime readers and people who know me well irl can attest), but that's my family and i love them dearly even though they drive me up the fucking wall. at the same damn time, though, i've worked (and am still working) on being my own woman with my own voice and opinions. it's not easy, but it's worth it.

recipe review: pork chops with apples and onions

quasi-landlord is on a more restricted than usual diet these days. two of the things she's supposed to stay away from are onions and garlic. longtime readers know about my love of garlic, and quasi-landlord decided immediately that there was no way she could omit garlic from her diet. i'm ok with that, obviously.

onions, on the other hand...well, let's just say that there was a surplus of sweet onions on hand and something had to be done with them. i knew i had pork chops in the freezer, so off i went to my folder o'recipes. i'd honestly forgotten i had this one saved, and i have no idea what took me so long to get around to making it.

here's what i did differently: i used salt, pepper, and garlic powder (b/c garlic) to season the pork chops. i had 2 boneless cutlets and 2 bone-in chops. i used beer (blue moon to be exact, the remains of which i am drinking while i write this), 2 pink lady apples, and 1 large sweet onion. oh, and i made sweet potatoes as my side dish instead of rice or mashed potatoes.

guys. omg you guys. i am so full and happy. i am so making this again. i am so angry with myself for not making this sooner. i want y'all to make this and to be full and happy. quasi-landlord wandered in while i was cooking and pretty much demanded that i make this once her diet isn't as restricted. i will be happy to oblige.

let's talk about wonderful sex (sfw edition)

"i hope to god my child never shoots someone in the face, but i really hope she has wonderful sex." - shonda rhimes in essence magazine
— eulalia (@queeneulalia) April 21, 2015

i won't copy the rest of my tweets from my brainstorm last night, but i basically wanted to point out that a lot of us, self included, weren't raised to think that wonderful sex was an option. for me, sex education at home was "don't have sex until you're married," and "ok, here's how you get pregnant, but DON'T YOU DARE COME HOME PREGNANT BECAUSE YOUR LIFE WILL BE OVER." seriously, that was pretty much it. no talk of "hey, so when you do have sex, here's how to make it enjoyable and safe at the same time for all parties involved."

luckily i've had 20 years or so of, ahem, practice to try to keep figuring this out, but that quote from shonda really got me thinking. what is it with our society that, in 2015, there's still so much shame and stigma attached to healthy sexual relationships? why do we do this to ourselves and to the next generation?

i'm not even gonna pretend to have the answers on this one. i'm not even sure i know what questions need to be asked, but i'm willing to attempt to discuss it if y'all are.

remembering our dear miss brooks during national poetry month

gwendolyn brooks, that is. i've written previously about winning her poetry contest in 8th grade, so that should tell you how highly her work ranks with me.

i discovered "when you have forgotten sunday: the love story" during my senior year at northwestern in a performance studies class, and it's still one of my favorites.

"—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To nowhere,
Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation
And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why?
And if-Monday-never-had-to-come—
When you have forgotten that, I say,
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,
And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,
That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner
To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles
Or chicken and rice
And salad and rye bread and tea
And chocolate chip cookies—
I say, when you have forgotten that,
When you have forgotten my little presentiment
That the war would be over before they got to you;
And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed,
And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end
Bright bedclothes,
Then gently folded into each other—
When you have, I say, forgotten all that,
Then you may tell,
Then I may believe
You have forgotten me well."

for some reason, the poem popped into my head this morning, so i figured i might as well share it. happy monday. :-)

random reminders and remembering

try to meet people where they are. try to be ok with leaving people where they are.

engage in crazy faith and angry prayers.

find the go(o)d and grab it.

find the p(r)etty and praise it.

"they ask me to remember
but they want me to remember
their memories
and i keep on remembering
mine."

--Lucille Clifton, "why some people be mad at me sometimes"

happy national poetry month!

one of the last books i read during the 1st quarter of 2015 was this volume of poetry. i found myself nodding in agreement in certain places, and jotting down verses in others. seriously - if you're into poetry, check this book out.

one poem in particular, Heaven is No Recompense, really stuck out for me. i think it's a piece that applies to quite a few of us right now, so i'm posting it here.

Heaven is No Recompense by Angela Jackson 

Who ever you love you will lose
Sooner or later. Even you.
And you will grieve for who
Ever is lost. Even you.
How can you lose unless you hold?
And how can you hold without
Touching, being touched.
Each stroke a stroke of luck
Pity us. And love the luck.

here's to a great month for all of us.

on: thoughts that go bump in your head in the night

"aren't you afraid of falling in love again?" nope. i have so many other worries that keep me up at night.
— eulalia (@queeneulalia) March 24, 2015

it's true, though. falling in love is among the least of my worries at this point. my role as a empath means that i worry about my "family"/tribe/circle/whatever you wanna call the folks i care about the most. are they ok? are their families ok? will the black men i love and hold dear make it home in one piece? what the fuck is it with politicians and police officers and other folks in power that are so fucking hellbent on fucking shit up for people who look like me? the anxiety attacks i have about those things (and myriad others) are real and so not spectacular. sometimes i text/email/tweet certain folks just to make sure that they're still around because they've popped up in my dreams and said dreams were the polar opposite of "sweet."

honestly, any and every day that i manage to make it out of bed is a good day. just living from one day to the next is a courageous act for me. i remember my 17th birthday and being quite ready to say the hell with everything and commit suicide. i also remember a little tiny voice telling me not to give up just yet.

but then there are other not so tiny voices telling me that my life is just one big failure and there's really no point in even trying to improve things, so #minuswell give up. there are days when those voices are LOUD AS ALL HELL and it takes everything i have in me to get out of bed. those are the voices that say that i'm never going to find a full-time job. that i will be stuck living with quasi-landlord forever. that nothing i want to achieve in my life is going to happen. that all of my hard work has been for naught. that daring to be happy is a mistake. that i will exposed as a giant fraud and everyone will desert me and everything will shatter into pieces that i will be unable to put back together. that i will dare to fall in love again and it won't work. that i have been and will be rejected so often and by so many people that i won't know what acceptance looks like anymore.

i get up, though. i get out of bed and i attempt to power through my day knowing that those voices will never shut the entire fuck up. sometimes i can use that self-doubt as motivational fuel - y'know, the whole "oh yeah? well, i'll show you!" thing. sometimes it works. oftentimes it doesn't and i regret getting out of bed in the first place.

this is a big part of why i'm committed to meeting and leaving people where they are. the psychic cost of not facing my demons and of amplifying those negative voices is too great. so, yeah, sometimes i say things that give people pause. sometimes i behave in ways that other folks don't understand or agree with. sometimes i make questionable decisions on purpose. and yes, sometimes i eat and drink my way through things and feelings because adulting is hard. fuck it.

when you see me tweeting about how we're all stronger than we give ourselves credit for and how we'll get through whatever adversity we're currently faced with, please know that i am also talking to myself (and, more specifically, those loud ass voices in my head) in those moments. i know enough to know that i'm not alone in this, which is why i try my damnedest to make sure that i'm there for folks who need me. meeting people where they are. making sure they're ok. supporting and encouraging them. giving myself a break from the continuous cacophony of doubt so i can focus on someone else and maybe, just maybe, we'll all get over the hump.

this is the life i have. this is the path i'm on. i know it's not for everyone and i accept that not everyone will be fellow travelers on the road to wherever the fuck this leads. this is why i'm so incredibly grateful for those of you who are on this journey with me. for the ones who reach out to say "hey, i see you. you're ok." for the ones who don't have to say a word for me to know that they've got my back. i love you.

on: meeting (and leaving) people where they are

as previously stated, i am really trying to commit to meeting people where they are. during the past week or so, though, i've realized that not only can i meet people where they are, but i can also leave them where they are.

i don't mean that in a negative way. it's more of a realization that everyone i meet isn't going to be in my life for the long haul, and that's ok. hell, everyone i meet shouldn't be in my life for the long haul, and that's also ok - hence the leaving people where they are.

i was talking to someone last week who i previously hadn't been in contact with for almost a decade. we were catching up and they asked what my life was like now. i said that at this point, i'm just trying to live my life and be happy and anyone who's willing to join along for the ride is more than welcome, and anyone who isn't willing to support that quest can, quite simply, get the fuck out.

i don't think they were ready for that level of realness, but the journey i'm on at this moment requires nothing else than the best i can dedicate to it, and if that means leaving people where they are and continuing on my merry little way, then so be it.

when knowing the "why" doesn't make it any easier

i have been in a mood for the past, oh, 36 hours or so. bitchy, angry, depressed, sad, emo...whatever you wanna call it, i have probably experienced some variation of it since yesterday afternoon. i tweeted last night that i wanted to call off from work today because i was angry and i hated people and i just wanted to drink and make bad decisions.

i still feel that way to a certain extent, really. i would be more than happy to drink all of the drinks and leave someone else in charge of decision-making. i'm tired of being responsible and i would just like at least one day where i can just sit in relative peace and quiet and do as much or as little as i would like, preferably without pants. i miss having a place of my own where i could be as moody as i want to be and not have to justify it or talk about it or put on a happy mask.

work tonight wasn't terrible, but i still found myself wanting to be snippy when situations didn't really call for it. there have been a few anti-epiphanies floating through my head (part of why i kept waking up every 2-3 hours last night, which was as fun as you think it was) since this mood came on, but they weren't fleshed out enough for me to have a "aha!" moment about them.

it really didn't come to me until work was almost over. i am self-aware enough to know that a part of me is still in denial about lori's death. part of this mood is me dealing with that. the other part of this mood, though, is doing the math and remembering once again why february and march are so difficult for me at times.

the last time i saw my father alive was on his birthday, february 18, 1997. he died less than 2 weeks later. my mother died in march. james died in march. and now i can add lori's death date to the february calendar. this wasn't an "aha!" moment per se, but it damn sure helped me pinpoint why the hell i'm in such a mood. funny thing is, i was pondering booking a massage because holy shit the stress tension is real right now, but then i realized i might start sobbing on the massage table and that would be all kinds of uncomfortable.

instead, i will try to make sense of my thoughts and try to curb the urge to punch people in the face and try to make it through each day without dissolving into a puddle (well, in public, anyway) and we will see what happens. maybe one of these days, i will have a day off from adulting. i swear i would love nothing more than to relinquish my throne for a day and let someone else deal with all of this shit.

on: saying goodbye

hands down, this was the most difficult funeral i've been to since james died. in some ways, james' funeral was easier for me b/c some of y'all were there and troy was there and i knew w/o any doubt that if i faltered or fell, someone would catch me.

february 4. a text from carol asking if i was at home. me saying i was about to leave work and, as the texts progressing, me asking if i needed to call her. i did, and i did, and she told me lori was gone. luckily i was sitting down (and luckily carol asked if i was sitting just in case before she told me) b/c i might've hit the floor.

see, lori was gonna be invincible in my eyes. anyone who'd beaten the medical odds the way she had was bound to outlive us all. lori was the reason i coined the phrase "crazy faith and angry prayers," b/c when she was in the hospital for weeks on end for reasons that couldn't really be explained, i was crazy enough to believe she'd pull through, and angry enough to yell at god and shake my fist in his direction b/c this wasn't how shit was supposed to go down.

but it did, and she survived, and she kept us laughing and on our toes. we all knew she lost her legs, but lori never lost her spirit. her smile. her ability to make us double over at the most inane thing. it's one of the things i loved most about her.

fuck. i just typed "loved" right there and i'm not gonna lie, it kinda hurt.

anyway...from february 4 until this afternoon, i'd done a decent job, imo, of not falling apart. i kept telling myself that i could weep all of the tears at her funeral. that i would be able to say good-bye. that my family, and our church family, could say good-bye. i needed it. we needed it. lori was there to hold me up when daddy died. when james died. i really dislike attending funerals b/c of [reasons], but dammit, i was gonna be there for her and for her family. it was only right.

it wasn't until i was combing my hair while getting ready to head out this afternoon that it hit me. lori was there on my wedding day. she was in that inner sanctum helping me get ready.

and now i had to go to the same church that holds so many wonderful memories for me and say goodbye to my "play" auntie. i put that in quotes b/c really, lori was family. i mean, yeah, we called her "auntie lori," but that was more a term of endearment than any actual establishment of connection. she was there, and then she wasn't, and it is still difficult for me to deal with this. 

apropos of nothing, i found this pic of me & james, also from my wedding day, while i was looking for the above pic. it's one of my favorites. i missed "uncle james" something fierce today. i felt, if not heard him, during the service tonight, which was helpful in moments but totally broke me in others. i can tell y'all this b/c you're removed enough and you won't be broken by it. 

anyway, the picture of me & james: 

and now i need to try to catch up on sleep. i have totes magotes lost my viking status this week.

what a difference a few years can make

throughout today, i have been reminding myself that no matter how horrible the day was, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as things were three years ago.

no, seriously. this was me on valentine's day 2012. the hottest of messes. actually, that's not quite accurate. what's worse than a hot mess? b/c i'm pretty sure that's what i was this time 3 years ago.

today? i went to work and almost everyone on my crew today remembered to bring candy and/or snacks. one of our co-workers really loves valentine's day and we knew it'd mean a lot to her if we celebrated it somehow. it was pretty sweet.

also i have plenty of chocolate on hand, so i don't have to worry about my stash approaching dangerously low levels. which is good, b/c the wind chill is getting ridiculous and i don't wanna go outside until i absolutely have to.

compared to 2012, the fact that i'm back in chicago full-time and have a part-time job still amazes me sometimes. honestly, there were times when i really wasn't sure how i was going to claw my way back. there are still times when i'm not sure how i'm gonna make this all work, but at least i'm in the city i love and in close proximity to my wonderful circle of friends and yes i'm being a bit sappy about it. i'm entitled.

i hope y'all had a great day, or at least a day that didn't completely suck. :-)

on: a week full of feelings

omg you guys it's friday. if friday was an actual person, i might give it a hug or buy it a drink or something. holy christ. i remember being happy that january was over b/c january really was on some fuckshit for a lot of people i know and i was glad to see it go.

monday was lab work at the hospital before work. i schedule these tests right before work so i only have to make one trip up to evanston and not "lose" one of my days off. the problem, though, is that hospitals make me claustrophobic if i'm in one for longer than, say, 2 hours. luckily, i got to the hospital early (on the day after a blizzard, no less) and got in and out before i hit that threshold, but i totally felt myself on the verge of losing my shit. it also helped that i'd built in enough time between my appointment and when i needed to be at work to grab a late lunch and try to regain some semblance of normalcy.

tuesday was pretty productive, actually. i applied for jobs and filed my taxes (yay for making just enough to owe the government $10) and made an appointment to get my hair cut next week (i may or may not be considering cutting a significant amount of my hair, but i'm a wuss and who knows what i'll actually do). i also attempted to re-enroll in a health insurance plan (thank you, president obama!) but my doctor only accepts a plan that i'm not qualified for. at least i have the option of finding out if another doctor in the practice accepts one of my alternative plans.

wednesday. wednesday about broke me. first it was work-related stuff - my schedule might be changing a bit b/c of management [reasons]. then i found out that one of my nearest and dearest family friends died on wednesday. i know enough to know that i am still kind of in shock and/or denial about this news. i don't know when the funeral is yet, but i know i need to go and say my goodbyes and have all the feelings with my family, both of the blood relations and of the church variety. i also found out on wednesday that a bar in my neighborhood is closing and when i went there with a girlfriend wednesday night, the feelings kinda hit me out of nowhere. i realized that a lot of ladybrunches happened there right around the time that my life was going through all of the changes, so that bar was kind of a safe haven of sorts and now it's closing and omg feels.

yesterday my phone decided to stop functioning and verizon was nice enough to offer me an "upgrade" that would cost me more per month for half the data i'm getting now. yeah...no. at least i got my phone to work, thanks to all the experience i had resetting it back in november.

today was pretty solid, though, b/c i won free shoes from dsw. it's nice to be a winner. :-)

so, yeah. all of the feelings this week. at some point i will have some sort of meltdown (more than likely at the funeral) but until then, i'm relying on my ability to compartmentalize and i'll just keep swimming, just keep swimming...:P

quote of the day

courtesy of the book i'm just about done reading:

"And lying on my back just like the girl I've always been, I watch the clouds drift and glow across the roof of the world, becoming newspaper headlines that tell the story of my life, the last one saying, Fuck you, I survive."

that just resonated with me and since it wouldn't fit in a single tweet, i decided to post it here. good night. :-)

on: meeting people where they are (and trying to accept yourself in the process)

one of the things i'm really trying to focus on this year is meeting people where they are. i mean that both in a literal sense and also more figuratively. if i know the only way i'm gonna be able to spend time with someone is by dropping by their job or meeting them for drinks or seeing them at church (in the case of my family, anyway) or whatever, then that's what i'm going to try to do. if i know someone's going through some shit but they just wanna keep things light/superficial and have a few laughs, then that's what we're gonna do when we hang out. you get the gist.

i struggle with this. i really do. as i get older and realize that my propensity for being a empath/caregiver is becoming more and more pronounced, the more convinced i am that i just want the people i love to be safe and happy. it's difficult because so many people i know and love are having issues of various kinds and holy hell do i feel their pain. i'd love to fix things for them but i can't and that leads to more pain and have i mentioned that being an empath is really fucking difficult sometimes? because it is.

i was catching up with a friend earlier this week and i was telling them about this new "mission" of mine, and how it all made sense in my head and how i'm hoping it'll help me be a better friend by letting go of some of my type-a minus tendencies (which is a struggle in and of itself, let me tell you). the conversation moved on to other things, like how i've been thinking about letting go of my "let me get a full-time job and move back into my own place and maybe then i can think about the possibility of dating and (re)establishing a social life, etc." plan and just let whatever happens, happen.

my friend, in their ultimate active listener wisdom, looked at me and said, "you know how you want to meet people where they are? you need to meet yourself where you are, too."

not gonna lie, that kinda stopped me in my tracks for a second. "i know you already know this. it's in your head. you just needed to hear someone you trust to hold up the mirror and say it back to you."

sometimes i hate my friends for being so gotdamn right all the time. :P

it's true, though. i accept that we are all broken in our own myriad ways and as much as i really want y'all to be safe and happy, that's not always possible...hence the meeting people where they are. if i'm really gonna be effective in this whole meeting people where they are, then i need to meet myself wherever the fuck i am, too.

you're not ready for this video.

i wasn't ready for this video when i saw it on twitter earlier this week. i just watched it again for like the 6th or 7th time and i still wasn't ready. i may or may not have shed actual tears of laughter when i first saw it. so, of course, i'm sharing it with y'all b/c i love you and i want you to laugh along with me.

recipe review: spicy rice bake with black eyed peas, collard greens, and sweet potato

yes, yes, black eyed peas for luck and collard greens for money. i started adapting this january 1 tradition a few years ago, when i realized that i either wouldn't be at home on new year's day and if i was at home, i probably wasn't going to want to make a full meal. therefore, i decided that as long as the first real meal i make in the new year involves black eyed peas and collards, i should be ok.

that said, i started going through my recipes last week and none of them were really appealing to me at that moment, so off to google i went for ideas and/or inspiration. this is what i came up with. i was excited b/c it combines greens and black eyed peas and sweet potatoes and i like all of those things.

here's what i did differently - i used brown rice vinegar instead of balsamic b/c quasi-landlord is allergic to balsamic vinegar and damned if i was gonna buy a bottle just for the tablespoon called for in this recipe. i minced 5 garlic cloves (note that this recipe doesn't tell you if you should chop the garlic or mince it or smash it or what) b/c these were some big garlic cloves. quasi-landlord came in as this dish was finishing up and she facetiously asked if i'd used enough garlic. oh, and i only used 1/4 teaspoon of cayenne pepper b/c my tolerance for spicy food is still rather low.

verdict: would make again. my decision to dial back on the cayenne was totally justified, btw. obviously your mileage may vary. i took the dish out of the oven with about 3-5 minutes left on the original 90 minute cook time and the texture was where i wanted it - the peas and the sweet potato were tender and the rice was cooked but not too mushy. there's no serving size on this recipe, but i'd guess you could get at least 6-8 side dish servings out of this. probably 8-10 servings if you're ambitious like that. i'm gonna put some in the freezer for future nommage; we'll see how that turns out.

favorite concerts of 2014

holy shit you guys i went to a lot of great concerts in 2014. i'm gonna recap some of my favorites b/c i haven't finished my "favorite songs of 2014" playlist yet. concerts are listed in chronological order, primarily because i'm taking the coward's way out and not choosing an absolute favorite.

april 11 - sharon jones and the dap-kings at the vic
i'd heard that sharon jones & the dap-kings put on a helluva show, but i didn't learn that for myself until april. holy shitballs this show kinda melted my face. sharon reminded me of a lot of women i know from church, in that she was singing and having fun one minute and then took us to church the next minute. i might have ugly cried during this show. knowing sharon was back on tour after kicking cancer in the throat was just...yeah, i cried during this show. i regret absolutely nothing.

april 18 - mavis staples & regina carter at symphony center
one of my friends wound up joining me for this show. luckily she was sitting behind me so she couldn't see the tears i wept during mavis' set. i love me some auntie mavis, dammit. fight me. i saw auntie mavis (b/c she really is one of my play aunties in my head) on the kennedy center honors last night and damn near wept with joy. i love her that much.

june 3 - frankie knuckles tribute at millennium park
it doesn't take much for me to fall back in love with chicago, especially during the past few years when i wasn't sure if i was gonna make it back here on a full-time basis. that said, this tribute to frankie knuckles was everything i needed it to be - lots of dancing, lots of diversity, all of us vowing to keep loving and living and dancing in spite of everything.

june 7 - the prince experience at untitled
ok, seriously? if the prince experience is in your town and you're a fan of prince and/or morris day and the time and tickets aren't $100 like they are tonight, you should check them out. much dancing. so wow.

august 29 - michael mcdonald and toto at ravinia
that should really sum it up. i wrote about this previously in case you need a refresher.

november 14 - stevie wonder at united center
news about this tour and i immediately adjusted my budget accordingly. so what if i'd seen (ok, heard) stevie wonder for free at the taste? no matter. i needed to be at this show for REASONS, dammit, and i made it happen. so what if my phone bricked the afternoon of the show and i gave myself a migraine while trying to restore my contacts and apps and figuring out my #alphet for the show (for the record, i wore a dress and some knee-high boots, for those who like to play along)? i was there, and it was amazing. i could've done without india.aire and her 5-6 costume changes, but i wasn't there to see india.aire. i was there to see/hear/experience stevie, and it was worth every penny i paid. i managed to keep the ugly cry in check, but damned if it wasn't close there during a few songs.

38

i would post a "this is what 38 looks like" picture, but i'm still in bed and my hair's a mess. also, if you've seen me recently, you pretty much have a clue as to what 38 looks like. not much has changed. :-)

and this is where i quote myself from last year's b-day post:

"today - and really, the whole month of december so far - is about celebrating myself. i'm alive. i'm relatively well. i'm safe. i may not have my own place but i have somewhere to sleep that doesn't involve a shelter or a cta train. i have a part-time job that doesn't completely suck. my friends win all of the awards for being wonderful. i am loved. there is obviously a metric fuck-ton that i can be upset about, and trust me, i am totally upset about a lot of things a lot of the time, but for right now, in this moment? happy."

i stand by all of that. if anything, the list of things i'm upset about has grown (america, fuck yeah?), but i  have so much more to be thankful for, also. like friends who cue up the jukebox with prince, rick james, and stevie wonder and order shots of whiskey right at midnight so i can start my actual birthday off right. i'm thankful for this year's b-day staycation. hell, i'm thankful for the ability to recognize how many things i have to be thankful for. not everyone can do that.

here's to 38 being a spectacular year. i have no idea what's in store, but i'm glad y'all are along for the ride.

happy birthday to me!

on: difficulty with generosity

why is it sometimes so challenging for me to accept generosity from others? (sorta kinda related: why is it so challenging for me to spell "generosity" correctly on the first try? thank god for spell check.)

a friend from college emailed me to say they'd be in town this week for work, and wanted to know if we could hang out one evening. calendars were consulted and a date was made. i asked if my friend wanted something specific for dinner, since they haven't lived here full-time in forever. not really, they said - this was more of a pre-birthday celebration dinner for me anyway, so i could pick the restaurant (within reason, of course).

needless to say that i was excited about this prospect, not only for #alldecembereverything reasons, but also b/c i hadn't seen this friend in a while and we always have fun when we catch up.

and then another friend, who'd already said they were plotting a celebratory surprise of sorts for my b-day, sent me a note with some of the particulars for our outing. i might have done a little dance of joy while i was at work reading my email. ok, i totally did a little dance of joy while i was at work reading that email, but then i remembered i was at work and therefore i should keep the dancing to a minimum.

obviously i have no issues accepting generosity during the month of december and, depending on how my annual celebration plays out, sometimes into january. it's the ordinary (read: non-celebratory) acts of kindness that i have issues accepting at times.

i alluded to this back in october (also i just realized i spelled "engagement" wrong in that title and fixed it before i started writing this, dammit) and i found myself wrestling with it again last night. y'know how some people have trouble accepting compliments? i have trouble occasionally with people being nice to me. it's not that i feel that i'm unworthy of such kindness b/c, as we all know, i love myself to the moon and back and beyond. i think it's more of a residual superwoman complex - deluding myself into thinking i have to do every gotdamn thing myself and then feeling guilty when someone offers to do something that will make me feel better, even if it's fleeting.

i know i'm not the only person who struggles with this, even though the rationale behind it may be completely different. i am trying to be better about this, i swear. i do not want to be that guy picking a fight or starting an argument when someone does me a unsolicited favor.

question of the day

do you know anyone who grew up wanting to be a cop?

i know people who wanted to be teachers, or lawyers (self included), or doctors, or firefighters, or astronauts, or veterinarians, or a slew of other things, but i can't think of anyone who wanted to be a cop.

yes, these are things i think about when i wake up at 4am and can't go back to sleep right away. given recent events, i don't think i can be blamed for this line of questioning. sigh.

#alldecembereverything: the 2014 edition

guess what time it is? no, it's not peanut butter jelly time, but i completely understand if that's your first answer.

it's #alldecembereverything time! yes, ladies and gentlemen, my absolute favorite time of year is here! yes, i know december doesn't start until monday, but since quasi-landlord is taking me out for an early b-day dinner celebration on sunday, i figured i'd might as well post the celebration list in its current form so y'all can pick and choose which (if any) activities you want to participate in.

tuesday, december 2: "porgy and bess" at lyric opera. goldstar has discounted tickets available.

thursday, december 4: bears vs. dallas. thursday night football. #anyonebutdallas. it's entirely possible that i will end up watching this game at home, but on the off chance that a game watch gets organized, i'm putting it out there.

friday, december 5: i'm going to the one of a kind show at merchandise mart. discounted tickets available via goldstar, or you can try to find freebies via some of the participating artists. if you want to go on friday, let me know b/c i have an extra free ticket. first come first serve.

saturday, december 6: karaoke at third coast comics at 7pm-ish. i'll be there after i get off work. byob.

sunday, december 7: sweet honey in the rock at symphony center in the afternoon. also short rib dinner that evening with the fine folks at sunday dinner club. if you want in on the nomz, let me know & i'll forward the details to you.

wednesday, december 10: women employed event with roxane gay. if you haven't read "bad feminist" or "an untamed state" yet, you should do that. both books are amazeballs.

sunday, december 14: ladybrunch at angelina. 11am-ish, depending on when i can get a reservation. you should rsvp if you haven't already. if you didn't get an invite and feel that you should have b/c we're cool like that, please let me know so i can rectify this oversight.

monday, december 15: bears vs. saints monday night football. depending on the weather and my budget and other factors, i will either be at soldier field or at a bar for this game. stay tuned for updates as i get this one figured out.

tuesday, december 16: blackhawks vs. wild. i am hoping against hope that i will be at the united center for this game. if that falls through, i'll likely watch it at burger bar b/c $5 wings on tuesdays are delicious.

wednesday, december 17: happy birthday to me! lunch at primehouse as per my usual, then the david bowie exhibit at the mca (squee!) at 1:30. dinner and/or drinking later that evening tbd.

thursday, january 1: bilal at city winery. i bought discounted tickets via goldstar and you should too, b/c saving money is awesome.

yes, i know that last event isn't in december, but if you know me, then you know that i'm likely to continue this celebration until MLK day, if not longer.

i will try to update this list as events warrant. happy almost #alldecembereverything! :-)

defining and pursuing happiness

i was up late last night watching the end of the blackhawks game (yay!) and the bulls game (boo!) and as midnight struck, my mind started racing just as i started yawning repeatedly. this, of course, meant that it took me some extra time to actually fall asleep b/c i couldn't stop mulling certain thoughts over and i was honestly too lazy to go get my laptop or pull out a notebook and start writing.

luckily, some of those same thoughts were still present when i woke up this morning, so here we are.

i think we all need the occasional reminder that we can not define anyone's happiness. that's not part of my job description as your friend. i can talk with you about how you'd like your own version of happiness to look, but i can't define it for you.

what i can do, though, is help you in the pursuit of your happiness. that is definitely in my job description as your friend. you figure out what makes you happy, you clue me in on it, and off we go in the pursuit of whatever that something or someone is.

like i said earlier this year - i'm all about supporting your dreams and your goals and, yes, the pursuit of your happiness. i may not be able to define that shit for you, but damned if i won't be supportive if/when you figure it out. everyone needs at least one person in their corner who's willing and able to back them up, even if it's just to play cheerleader. go pursue some happiness or at least have fun trying to figure it all out. :-)

a few rules of engagement

pay attention.

use your words.

when someone wants to be nice or do something nice for you, let them.

those sound simple as hell, and yet i find myself constantly reminding myself that these are just a few things i can do to not completely suck as a friend. obviously i do not have all of the answers for "how to be an awesome friend" b/c if i did there would be a book or at least another blog and i'd be making the rounds on the talk show circuit and making all of the monies. :-)

this week, i kept repeating "pay attention" and "use your words" to myself over and over, like a mantra. i will admit that part of it was due to the fact that i needed a few people to, well, pay attention and/or use their words and it wasn't happening the way i wanted it to. also i'm not a mind-reader and i have no idea what some folks are thinking if they don't actually verbalize that shit, but whatever.

letting people do nice things for me (well, outside of my birthday, i guess) should not be as difficult for me as it is. first i feel guilty and then i feel like i'm letting myself down for not doing whatever the nice thing in question is on my own and then the voices in my head just have a field day b/c it's fucking ridiculous to feel this way. so what if quasi-landlord offered to make dinner 2 nights in a row when i was perfectly capable of scrounging up my own sustenance? just say thank you and stfu already, self.

(i totally said that to myself this week, btw.)

pay attention.

use your words.

when someone wants to be nice or do something nice for you, let them.

any other rules for not being a sucktastic friend? please to discuss in the comments.

by all means, please send your finest cheese to go with this whine

(all of the whining and emo in this post, in case the title didn't tip you off already.)

i really didn't want to go to work yesterday. like, at ALL. not because it was monday, or because i thought i'd be walking into a shitshow, but because i just really wanted to sit at home and listen to music and eat and drink my feelings. i talked myself out of taking yesterday off b/c i knew i'd have today to sit at home and wallow in my feels if i so chose.

it was dicey for a while there, though. by the time i got to work, i was emotionally exhausted and felt like the smallest thing could send me over the edge. luckily, i made it home without falling apart. a friend asked how i was doing and all i could say was that i was tired. i couldn't get my shit together enough to articulate the hows and whys of my being tired, which, as i admitted to my friend, was frustrating for both of us - them because they were genuinely concerned about what was up with me, and me because i wasn't in a space where i felt like i could give voice to everything i wanted to say. i'm gonna try to give voice to it now.

here's what i think i know at the moment: i'm fucking exhausted. not physically, but more mentally/spiritually. i'm tired of feeling like all the work i've been putting into building and creating a sustainable life for myself has been for naught. i've been living with quasi-landlord for a little more than a year now and while yes for the love of god and other holy things i am thankful for fuck's sake for having a stable living situation, it's not mine and i'm not satisfied.

that's part of my problem, you see. every time i feel like i want to express this frustration, there's a voice in my head telling me to stfu and be thankful for where i am. i AM thankful, as most of y'all can attest if you've been paying attention. my #attitudeofgratitude has been well documented.

and then there's another voice in my head saying that i should just be ok with what i have and be done with it. to stop working so damn hard and accept what i see as a temporary life as permanent. to resign myself to part-time employment and barely having enough to cover expenses and honestly spending more time than i'll publicly admit thankful for my introvert tendencies b/c it means i can stay home and not spend money.

that's not me, though. i want more than that. i want a full-time job that lets me maintain financial responsibility and doesn't make me want to cry every time i walk into work. i want a place of my own where, if i so choose, i can invite y'all over or just be by my gotdamn self and be happy. i want enough money left over after paying bills and handling business to be able to eat, drink, hang out, and be merry. this doesn't sound like a tall order to me, and yet it's been elusive as hell during the past 6 years. did i mention that i'm fucking exhausted? b/c i am.

obviously i am able to keep moving and functioning on most days, but that's because yet another voice in my head pretty much commands me to get up every day. even today, while i'm parked on the couch writing this, i pulled myself out of bed and took a shower and even washed my hair b/c that voice reminds me that i still need to take care of basic things, like hygiene.

every now and then, though - like yesterday and today - shit gets overwhelming and instead of pushing all those emotions away, i need to give myself permission to vent them or at least sit with them and acknowledge their presence before i go back to living for what passes as normal. the fact that i feel like i have to give myself permission to be exhausted is exhausting in and of itself, and yet here i am.

you know where i'll be tomorrow? back at work. back to the proverbial grind. roxane gay kinda nails it for me in her "the price of black ambition" piece, specifically here:

I have achieved a modicum of success, but I never stop working. I never stop. I don’t even feel the flush of pleasure I once did when I achieve a new milestone. I am having a moment, but I only want more. I need more. 

i almost wept after i read that this morning b/c it's just so damn timely and applicable to my life. i can't even say that i'm having a moment...ok, i could say that, but i'd be lying to myself and i try to avoid that, so, yeah. as much as i think i would love to rest on my laurels (such as they are at the moment), i don't think i could ever stop until i reach my goal. knowing me, i'd probably make up a new goal and then keep working. such is my life.

o hai october!

i have been meaning to write something all week long. unfortunately, i have been unable to remember what i was going to write about. i know better. i know i should write these ideas down whenever they pop into my head b/c my quasi-ADD tendencies mean it's highly likely that i will forget whatever brilliant blog post idea i had. womp.

instead, i will share some of the random and/or reoccurring thoughts that have been swirling around my head this week. ok, some of them have been hanging around for longer than a week, if i'm going to be completely honest, but let's not nitpick.

--who takes care of the caretakers? what happens when the person who's been designated as the caretaker realizes that they're overwhelmed and can't fulfill the duty or duties that have been put upon them? who's there for those people?

--believing in love even when you're not actively in love with someone. i think i tweeted about this late last week - someone asked if i still believed in love and they were kinda shocked when i said yes. love takes all kinds of forms and even my cynical self can still believe in love even when i'm not in love. i don't know why that's a difficult concept for some folks to understand. the day i give up on believing in love is the day i just need to retire to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and y'all know i'm too much of a city girl for that to ever happen.

--football! woo! i love not having to worry about what i'm wearing on saturdays and sundays during the season. i watched a bit of last night's game (seriously, vikings: you had ONE JOB) and found myself annoyed with all of the pink for breast cancer awareness. yes, i am team #fuckcancer all day everyday but the "pink fatigue" is real for me. obviously your mileage may vary. also i saw like 2 minutes of the arizona/oregon game last night and holy hell those oregon uniforms pissed me off.

hope y'all are doing well and continuing to #embracethecrazy and #doitlive and believing in love and all those other beautiful things that keep us moving forward. :-)

connecting with "life itself"

i saw "life itself" last night. it was on my "must-see eventually" list as soon as i heard it was being released, but i missed it in theaters during its first wave. i could've rented it via on demand or on amazon, but i didn't for some reason.

when i found out "life itself" was playing at the siskel film center, some part of me knew that there's where i needed to go for this. thankfully my schedule wasn't super-crazy this week and therefore i could take myself on this journey.

more than once during the movie, i reminded myself that i was watching a film about roger ebert at the gene siskel film center. i felt like such a CHICAGOAN in those moments. i can't really pinpoint why. i mean, it's no secret that i have lived in and loved this city for what feels like forever, suburban sojourns notwithstanding. maybe my subconscious was having a particular 9/11 remembrance and without my realizing it, i was having a stronger attachment than usual to this city. 

i am attempting to write this w/o spoilers for those of you who haven't seen the movie and/or read ebert's memoir, but this piece kinda gets at what i'm trying to share: gene siskel's widow was talking about the tempestuous relationship siskel and ebert had. at one point, gene said of roger, "he's an asshole, but he's my asshole." i laughed through my tears on that one b/c that's how i feel about, well, a lot of you. (i use the term "asshole" with nothing but love and affection, obviously.) 

i think that's what struck me both in roger's book and in this film - that throughout his life, he wanted to connect with people. not necessarily people he agreed with, mind you, but people who meant something to him. maybe it's b/c he was an only child and i'm sure any psychologist worth their proverbial salt would say that ebert was creating a family of his own. (i am not a psychologist, nor do i play one on tv, so please don't accept this diagnosis as scientific fact.)

that resonates with me, as most readers of this blog have probably surmised throughout the years. the desire…no, strike that - the need, really, to develop and maintain connections, however tenuous. not to be popular, b/c clearly i am bereft of fucks to give about being popular, but to know that there's a circle, however big or small, of people you give a shit about and who, hopefully, give a shit about you.

seeing roger with chaz was on a completely different level of connection, though. i was digging through my twitter archive looking for things i'd written in response to roger's death last year. a lot of what i managed to say through my blubbering focused on chaz and roger. i may live to see 100 and i'm not convinced i'll see another relationship like the one they chose to share with us.

building and maintaining connections. it's not easy and yet roger and chaz seemed to work so well together that you'd forget that there was actual work involved. there were a couple of times in the film where you just knew chaz was nearing the end of her patience while roger was hospitalized, but then you'd catch them giving each other looks like "ok, fine, i'll stay, but only b/c it's you." that's a helluva connection.

and then (spoiler alert for those who haven't seen the movie) chaz talks about how, at the very end, she and some other loved ones were with roger and they were playing dave brubeck's music and everyone was holding hands and she found herself peaceful enough to be able to let roger go. that's another part of having connections, isn't it? knowing when it's time to sever a connection, be it through death or disagreement or something else.

as the end credits rolled, i just sat there for a moment, primarily b/c i'd cried enough to give myself a sore throat and i couldn't stop blinking residual tears away. i just kept thinking that my heart was so heavy and yet so very full at the same time.

hours later as i write this, i still feel that way - that my heart has been so heavy and yet so full simultaneously. not just today. not even just this week. hell, not even just this year, and lord knows there's been enough to cry/laugh/cry about already.

maybe it's remembering how powerful connections can be. i know i've felt more connected to chicago in the past few years than i probably ever have b/c of [reasons]. 

but i also feel like i've (re)established some powerful connections during that same time frame. i don't mean powerful in terms of clout or anything like that. but powerful more like…meaningful. i guess that's a more appropriate term. yeah, we'll go with "meaningful." that sounds good.

i think that the older we get and the more we realize that certain things in life really do have the capacity to suck for what feels like forever, the more important the connections we have with other people are. sometimes those connections are the only thing that gets us through. other times those connections are blocking us from whatever's next. the wisdom, one hopes, would be in knowing the damn difference.

on: being grounded (and not in the teenager kind of way)

i was talking to a friend recently and they were telling me about the current woes of a young woman they know. apparently she's a child of divorce and her mom is unstable and one or both parents are recovering alcoholics and she, according to my friend, just can't seem to get her act together. in this young woman's defense, though, she's still, well, young. i've not met this woman, but i know she's only a year out of college and is still trying to figure out what she wants to be when she grows up.

my friend is understandably concerned about this woman, b/c apparently her issues are starting to manifest themselves in ways that could be construed as self-defeating, if not self-destructive. as far as i can tell (and this is based solely on what my friend's told me, mind you), this young lady isn't really aware of the fact that her behavior is starting to raise some eyebrows.

"you know what i think a big part of (young lady)'s problem is," my friend noted, "is that there's no substance there. she doesn't have any sort of grounding or center. she doesn't really know who she is. it's not her fault, obviously, but i think that's what's missing."

we mulled that over for a bit and then my friend continued, "i mean, look at you. look at the things that have happened to you during the past few years. you're grounded enough and you're confident enough in who you are that you were able to deal with all of those things without floating away or completely coming unglued."

(god bless this friend for choosing to ignore just how damn close i've been to breaking down on multiple occasions, but whatever.)

my friend thinks that this young woman needs to seek counseling so that she can identify all of her myriad issues and, slowly but surely, work on addressing them. not a bad idea, obviously. the conversation shifted to other topics before we went our separate ways, but i've been mulling this over ever since.

i'm wondering how we got lucky enough to have the sort of "grounding" that my friend referred to. a lot of us come from dysfunctional family backgrounds and therefore we weren't necessarily raised to be super self-confident. i know i personally spent a good chunk of my post-college years trying to figure out exactly who i was and who i wanted to be. let the record show that this is a constant work in progress and i reserve the right to change my mind at any time. :-)

but seriously - how is it that some folks get dealt a less-than-ideal hand and manage to get through it relatively unscathed, while other folks just can't seem to claw their way through? any thoughts?

michael mcdonald + stevie wonder = magic

so i saw michael mcdonald and toto at ravinia on friday night. judge away. i don't care. that show was AMAZING. i am 74% sure that cheryl lynn was there singing backup when toto did "georgy porgy." i am 1098% sure that michael mcdonald still has one of the best beards in the music industry. do not bother attempting to argue with me about this. i will write about all of the shows i attended in 2014 and friday night's performance will more than likely be near the top of my list.

did i mention that this show was AMAZING? b/c it was AMAZING. i'm not just saying that b/c i was #unsober for most of it, either. i have never loved yacht rock as much as i did friday night. even without kenny loggins, "this is it" performed live kinda melted my face.

and as much as i wanted michael mcdonald to do just one michael jackson song (although if he did, i might still be rolling around ravinia's lawn in sheer glee), my wish was not granted. michael mcdonald did, however, give us some stevie wonder as part of his encore. first this:



followed by this:



i have already tweeted the fine folks at ravinia about making an mp3 version of this encore available so i can throw money at them. michael mcdonald went from "you haven't done nothin'" to "superstition" and back and forth again for a good 10 minutes. i wished i'd brought my tambourine with me. it was (wait for it) AMAZING. my friend and i just looked at each other and kept asking "is this happening? is this encore happening? holy shit!" (i did mention that we were #unsober, right? right.)

soundtrack(s) for a day of sadz

i found myself singing this on the way home last night and it seemed appropriate because of myriad reasons:

and then i woke up this morning with this song stuck in my head:

it all makes sense, i suppose, given recent events in the news. also james would've been 52 today and y'all know how that tends to go for me. you can read my post from last year and also from 2012 because i'm pretty sure i don't have anything to add right now.

if anyone needs me, i'll be eating and drinking my feelings for most of the day.

unsoberly stumbling down memory lane, part i'm too unsober to remember what part i might be on right now

if you were paying attention to my twitter feed late this evening, then you probably noticed a series of tweets about my freshman year at northwestern and some of the songs that will always have a place in my heart, like this one:

oh, man. if i had a dollar for every time i heard this song during freshman year, i could...i don't know. pay my renter's insurance for the year? a couple of cell phone bills? or a couple of 30-day ventra passes? yeah, that sounds plausible. we'll go with that.

one of my favorite memories attached to this song? daddy picked me up for our thanksgiving excursion to st. louis to see ma dear (my paternal grandmother) and some other relatives. one of my fellow kappa sweethearts (just google it, y'all, b/c i tried to find a wiki link to post here and came up empty) lived in the st. louis area and daddy offered to drive her home for the holiday. road trip! i swear the flava in ya ear remix came on the radio (yes, children, this was back in the days when you couldn't hook your ipod or phone to your car stereo to haz all of the music nao) at least 5 times during the trip to st. louis and on our return to evanston. every time, my friend and i would look at each other and lose our shit b/c it was pretty much our unofficial anthem, based on the number of times we'd danced to it at parties that quarter.

daddy, bless his everloving heart, never said a word. i think the last time it came on in the car, daddy just rolled his eyes at our giggling selves and kept on driving.

(ehrin, if you're out there and you stumble across this somehow, please say hi via comment or twitter or whatever!)

on: being a (grief) counselor of sorts

i was at work last saturday and was still kinda cranky b/c i didn't really wanna be there, but since 2 people had already called out and saturday is one of the days that i'm technically in charge of the department, i felt like i had no choice but to suck it up and go.

so i'm at work and i notice that one of my co-workers is on the verge of tears. i asked if she was ok and she said that something happened that made her think of her mom and before she could finish that sentence, i pretty much ordered her to go hang out in the back room so she could have a quick crying jag & pull herself together.

see, this co-worker lost her mom about a month and a half ago, and since she's the oldest child, she feels like she has to put on a strong front for her siblings and for her dad. she knows that i'm well acquainted with the whole losing parents/family members thing (sigh), so she asked me if the pain ever goes away.

i didn't lie. i told her the pain somehow eventually gets easier to manage, but that in my experience, there will always be a part of you that will always be in mourning. i told her like i've told other folks both here and off-line - grieve however you think is best. if that means you need to take a few minutes at work to have a mini-breakdown on my shoulder, then so be it. (that totes happened, btw.)

later that day, this same co-worker asked how i was able to do such a good job of helping her and other co-workers who've experienced a loss in the family. i jokingly said that it comes from years of experience, but there's a bit of truth there, i suppose. work has been kinda weird lately anyway, seeing as how one of the librarians died earlier this month from injuries suffered in an accident while they were on their way to work. a lot of people have been coming in to express their condolences and in a couple of cases, i end up consoling them b/c they are distraught to the point of tears and frankly, sometimes i can't handle that kind of energy while i'm working at the desk, esp. from people i don't know.

it's different with y'all, obviously. we're cool enough and clearly y'all trust me enough to share your grief with me, and hopefully i do a decent enough job of listening and helping y'all work through whatever it is you feel like working through at that moment.

i've noticed that it's not just grief/coping with someone's death, though. a lot of times i'm pulled into a counselor role for friends who are just having a rough time. i'm ok with that. i like to think that i'm good at it. i can be that friend/counselor that allows you to say whatever's on your mind and if the situation calls for it, i can offer to beat people up or flip a table on someone's behalf or pass you some tissue or enable the eating and/or drinking of your feelings.

the difficult part, though (you had to have known that there was a "but" coming somewhere), is that sometimes i have to sacrifice myself a bit in order to effectively play that counselor role. i am human enough to admit that i'm not as selfless as i'd like to be during these circumstances. it's challenging when my selfish side is all "what about me and my feelings and my needs pay attention to me dammit" when i know good and damn well the occasion is really calling for me to shut the entire fuck up and listen to what y'all need and attempt to fill those needs as best i can. sometimes that means ignoring the fact that there's only one person on the desk at the work so i can literally lend a supportive shoulder to a colleague. other times it might mean changing my plans in order to buy booze that i really shouldn't be spending money on so i can help a friend drink their cares away.

i suppose that's kinda what being a counselor is about - having the ability to temporarily put yourself aside so you can serve others? i've been that friend for folks since high school (and possible junior high, but y'all know how my memory is sometimes) and it feels like it gets more difficult as we get older. which makes sense, i guess, since our lives get more complicated as we get older and therefore it gets harder to compartmentalize your needs so you can focus on the greater good.

so if i haven't already, let me apologize if at any point during our "counseling sessions," i've spaced out or gone quiet or you felt like i wasn't 100% there. that's me reminding myself to get my shit together and focus on the task at hand, which is helping you deal with whatever you've brought to the table at that moment. i appreciate that a certain level of vulnerability has to exist in order for us to talk about deep (and even the not-so-deep) stuff, and i don't take that responsibility lightly. we'll get through it together. i promise. :-)

love that father's day chicken

i had popeye's for dinner b/c, as previously stated, i wanted my father's day feelings to taste delicious. i have whiskey caramel frozen custard (!) for dessert later. feelings...nothing more than delicious feelings...

while i was having dinner earlier, i found myself pulling off the chicken skin to save it for last, which is something i've done ever since i was old enough to eat fried chicken, i think. actually, that's not completely accurate. there was a period in my life when all i ate from fried chicken was the skin. it drove my family nuts. mashed potatoes? done. whatever veggies were on my plate? gobbled. cornbread? you know i was 'bout that action. but the actual chicken? nope. it wasn't happening. luckily this was a phase i grew out of relatively quickly, probably b/c knowing my brothers, that "naked" chicken didn't last long on my plate.

fast-forward a bit to a visit to kokomo to see my former stepmother. i think i was about 9 years old. daddy & i had driven in for the weekend - my former stepmother hadn't left her job in kokomo yet and there was a weird long-distance/commuter thing happening. i'm sure that was part of why their marriage didn't last. at any rate, we were there on a saturday and i think daddy had decided he wanted popeye's for dinner. my former stepmother went to popeye's and came back, we sat down at the table, loaded up our plates, and started eating.

now, anyone who's broken bread with me knows that my tolerance for spicy food is low. there are certain foods that i will just sweat my way through even though i'm thisclose to passing out from pain b/c the food's that good, but that's a short list and my tolerance for those foods is a relatively recent development. i have a number of friends who, when i ask them for a sample of whatever spicy food they're eating, will tell me straight up that i shouldn't eat it b/c i will have all of the regrets. i trust them.

my former stepmother, in a sort of wisdom that is still lost on me, ordered spicy chicken from popeye's. i am 37 years old and i still don't fuck with popeye's spicy chicken like that, so you know 9 year old me  wasn't having it. at ALL. i took one bite and was in tears by the time i spat it out and told daddy it was too hot and i couldn't eat it.

oh, man, the argument that ensued after that. former stepmother's rationale was that i should just shut up and eat what was on my plate. daddy's point was that if the food was making me uncomfortable and/or was inedible, he wasn't gonna force me to eat. then former stepmother tried to play the "well, i've raised more kids than you and you're just spoiling her" cards and...y'all. i can probably count the number of times i saw my father lose his temper on one hand, and this was one of them. i got sent from the room so they could continue their "discussion." i don't remember which one of them made a second popeye's run, but i did indeed have some chicken i could eat that night.

funny how this memory has stuck with me all these years. i never saw it as daddy spoiling me so much as him knowing his kid enough to know that if i said something was too spicy, it was too spicy and therefore it was a problem. i remember once in high school when someone was teasing me about being spoiled (one of the hazards of being the youngest and a daddy's girl, i suppose) and daddy said that he'd work as hard as he had to and move heaven and earth to make sure i had everything i needed and, if possible, some of the stuff i wanted. i was old enough to appreciate the difference.

that night in kokomo, daddy knew that i needed something edible for dinner. (yes, i know, how very first world of me.) he knew it was his job to fulfill that need, and if that meant getting into an argument with his wife about fulfilling that need, then so be it.

it's one of the things i love(d) most about my father. if you said you needed something and he was in a position to make it happen, consider it done. i think some members of my family took that for granted b/c he never made a big deal about it, but after i turned 18 and daddy felt like he could treat me more like an adult, we had some conversations about it and i knew the lack of acknowledgment hurt him.

17 years after his death, i still feel so incredibly blessed to have been daddy's girl. happy father's day.

father's day flashback

i wasn't kidding last month when i said that i'm an equal-opportunity hater w/r/t mother's day and father's day. here's what i had to say about it last year, and i stand by it now:

good morning. happy sunday. happy father's day.

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013

s/o to all the dads i know who are raising children that i actually enjoy spending time with outside of #adventuresinbabysitting.

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013

s/o to all of my friends' dads who i've adopted along the way. thank you for raising kids who grew up to be great adults (so far).

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013

s/o to the folks who have complicated relationships with their fathers and therefore can't get behind the sentiment today. *hugs* for y'all.

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013

s/o to the folks who lost their fathers way too soon (16 years ago for me) and might be feeling some kinda way today. *hugs* for y'all, too.

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013

and i know there's a few daddy's girls on my timeline (takes one to know one, dig?), so make sure you holla at him if you can today.

— eulalia (@queeneulalia) June 16, 2013