Saturday, September 15, 2012

Complex - Chapter 2

"I'm so sorry... ugh..." The deluge of vomit just would not stop coming and he was doubled over just letting it flow. Even as Jason tried to apologize throughout, it continued to flow from his mouth. He noticed that the girl's feet had moved about 5 feet away from him. He hoped it hadn't gotten on her.

"Is he dying? Shouldn't we do supm?" He heard her ask, seemingly concerned.

"How me fi know? My shoes get fuck up, they are dying." He heard the reply from the man he'd seen her with. The man he was supposed to be interviewing, San-Gee.

After an eternity of minutes the fountain of 'Eww' seemed to stop flowing. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and attempted to wipe his mouth.

"I'm so sorry. I guess the drinks didn't agree with me." He said unfolding his body from it's bent position. Looking at the disgusted and puzzled expressions on the faces of the two people around him.

The two made eye contact for a brief second before she turned away grinning.

"Great first impression." She said through a smile. "I'm Kerri Peart, San-Gee's manager." He notices that she doesn't extend her hand.

He wipes his mouth as best as he can hoping that when he opens it again nothing but words spill out.

"Nice to meet you." He replies.

"So we're just going to forget about my shoes?" San-Gee says, clearly annoyed and disgusted.

Jason glances down on San-Gee's now ruined shoes and groaned. "I'm really sorry about that, how can I make it up to you?"

"You have a new pair of shoes and a bathroom inna yuh back pocket?" He asks angrily.

Jason's short temper begins to flare. " I understand it's my fault but it was an accident, I've already apologized. What more you want?" He asks.

"My yute yuh need fi chill. You fuck up and I can't get upset?" San-Gee hissed his teeth angrily.

"Now boys no need to get upset. Jason right?" Kerri said moving closer to him. She glances down at his feet. "What size do you wear?" She asks cheekily.

"What?!" Both men exclaim simultaneously.

She laughs out loud, puzzling the two men, finally she says "He's performing and needs something to wear on stage. Seeing as it is your fault..." She shrugs as if the solution is obvious.

Jason weighs his options. After a few seconds he nods and says "I wear a size 12."


Barefoot and feeling sick, Jason watched San-Gee perform from back stage. At least that was what he was trying to do. He could not concentrate at all. He made the decision about two songs into the performance to call it a day and go home. Back stage was now very crowded with people he recognized from the tent earlier in the night. All with excited expressions watching San-Gee perform.

"You don't look too good." He heard someone say from his left. He turned to see a very attractive man about 6ft tall leaning against a rail checking him out.

"I don't feel very good either." He replied making his way through a cluster of people, moving closer to the stranger.

"You need any help?" the stranger asks. Pushing himself off the railing and moving towards him.

Jason finally made it through the crowd and was standing parallel to the man. "No I think I can manage." He says and smiles. "Thanks though Mr....." He says leading the man to respond.

"Kingston. Just Kingston." He replies extending his hand for a shake.

Jason takes the hand and replies "Jason. Just Jason. For now." He says, smiling. He sees someone approaching them and realizes it's San-Gee's manager Kerri.

"Hey Kingston, long time no see." She says offering a hug to the stranger.

"Hey baby girl, you not coming to the gym again? I could schedule some time for a little training session." He replies after the hug. He gives her a flirtatious up-down with his eyes. "Not that you need it."

She laughs. Jason notes that she does that a lot. "I've been busy but I'll definitely schedule a session for next week. I don't want anything that's not supposed to jiggle. To start jiggling." She turns from the stranger to him with a more serious expression. "Jason right? Sorry but the interview has to be re-scheduled."

"That's cool, I'm really sorry about earlier I don't know what came over me." He replies embarrassed.

She smiles and shrugs "Shit happens. Great story though. I hope it's included in your piece."

He pretends to contemplate it for a few seconds then replies "I don't think so." He fumbles for his Blackberry out of his pocket. "I already have your number so why don't I give you mine and we can set it up as soon as possible." He looks at Kingston who had been watching the conversation. "You can take my number too." He grins.

He notices Kerri's raised eyebrow and adds on quickly, "For the training session."

Friday, September 14, 2012

Complex - Chapter 1

Jason Sander slowly made his way on to the compound where the show would be held. He glanced at his watch then sighed. It was 12:19AM on Sunday morning and only the first few acts had performed. He deduced that this was going to be a long night and he was already freezing cold, tired and frustrated that he was being forced to do a story on this dude... Sanjay? He stopped walking and held the flier up to the light. No, San-Gee.

'What kind of name is that?' he thought.

A quick summation of the crowd made him determine that there over a thousand people at the venue. He wondered if the high turnout was for San-Gee as his was the most high profile name on the line-up.

He did a quick check of his surroundings hoping he'd see someone he knew to distract him from his 'duties'. At 6ft 4in tall it was easy to see over people's heads but he came up empty, besides it was too dark and too crowded to see anything much less recognize any familiar faces.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face, partly in frustration and partly to wake himself up. As he opened his eyes he sent a short prayer up to the heavens as he spotted the very open and very stocked bar. He began to make his way quickly to the bar deciding that the night would go much easier if he wasn't completely sober.

"Give me a Guinness and a shot of vodka." He ordered from the bartender.

With bottle in hand and feeling a slight buzz from two straight shots of vodka he determined it was time to make his way to the media tent at the back of the stage. After flashing his media pass to the imposing guard he found himself in the tent surrounded by artists, managers, entourage and other media personnel. He spotted a photographer friend and gave him a nod of acknowledgment.

He only recognized a few of the artists and even fewer familiar faces. The bio he'd created of San-Gee said he had a female manager but never attended shows with an entourage. There were a lot of females in the tent but he doubted that any had the title of manager.

He decided to just chill out and wait for San-Gee to make an appearance. He took a swig of his Guinness and realizing it was finished meandered his way to the tiny bar erected at the far end of the tent to order something else.

"You have food in here right?" He asked the bartender

"Yes. Oh sorry No. It done. Shoulda come earlier." was the reply he received.

Jason hissed his teeth in annoyance and ordered Henny on the rocks and another Guinness as a chaser. He hadn't eaten since lunch and knew all this alcohol was a very bad idea, at least sober Jason knew that. This slightly buzzed Jason was anticipating becoming drunk Jason and had thrown caution to the wind.


San-Gee peeked out from back stage just to get a read of the size of the crowd and what conditions he'd be performing under. His eyes almost bulge out of his head as he sees a bigger crowd than he anticipated.

He turned away from the stage and clasped his hands together. Rubbing them together slowly as he'd done a million times before when he was nervous. For some unknown reason it calmed him down but it was a giveaway of his present mental state.

"Don't be nervous David." He heard Kerri Peart say, his manager and sometimes best friend.

She was in best friend mode right now, calling him by his government David Holder, wrapping her arms around his waist her head resting on his chest. He was over a foot taller than her at 5ft 11in but her hair made for about 6 extra inches and was now tickling his chin.

"I'm trying not to be." He said wrapping his arms around her.

"The crowd is fucking huge but that's good right? More people, more power, more money, more respect." He said confidently.

She gave him a tight squeeze then released him.

"Exactly and this is just the stepping stone for bigger shows. You have what they want and you look good giving it to them." She said looking up at him and smirking.

He let out a loud laugh at her innuendo and bent to give her a quick peck. Their relationship was solid. He'd known her for 21 years having met her at St. Richard-Hugh's Primary school. She was the tiniest first grader but very feisty. She'd saved his ass a million times from real and imagined foes. She was the closest thing to a sister he'd ever had.

That 's the only reason he'd let her put him in this black leather biker jacket, bright green graphic tee, 'fitted' jeans and bright green Chuck Taylors. Well he liked the Chucks, those were more his style but every thing else felt foreign. He pinched the shirt away from his body and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"What size is this? A s-medium?" He asked raising one neatly, but inconspicuously, manicured eyebrow.

She laughed "David it's what the girls love to see. Shows those abs nicely." she said rubbing her hands up and down his mid-section. He hissed his teeth jokingly and turned to his left where he saw someone approaching.

A very tall someone at that with a slow, confident gait. He noticed the press pass and looked at Kerri who shrugged her shoulders and took out her blackberry.

"Hi. Jason Sander from the Observation we're supposed to have an interview...?" The stranger said upon reaching them. He stretched his hand towards San-Gee for a hand shake and then proceeded to bend at the waist and vomit all over his Chuck Taylors.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Posts from the New BB

Two shots of rum and the oppressive heat of Portmore City have me feeling woozy. It might be attributed to the food I'd forgone eating the entire day. Unfortunately 2 slices of pizza don't help with alcohol.

My homegirl had been sipping some concoction she called 'Sizzurp' all day. Her sizzurp was a whole heap of rum with a tweps of lemonade. She was feeling mellower than a house cat, I have a feeling it was one part sizzurp, one part pizza and one part whatever she'd been smoking. Can't help but love her.

I think it was a bad decision to take the bus home. The bus stop has no working street lamp so it's lights out on either side of the stop for at least 20 feet. I def don't feel safe. Made the decision to walk back to the lighted bus stop I'd seen a few yards down the road. I had seen several people there as well so I felt more assured about some semblance of safety.

I think I'm drunk. I'm trying my hardest to ignore that feeling. Also why the hell do I smell bacon?

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Posts from the new BB

When the mood swings down and I know what's coming I try everything in my power to shut it down. Often it works and I'm able to escape the abyss of loneliness and negativity. Occasionally, though, I am overcome and have to live in that darkness until it decides to show me a light.

In those times there are more than 1 of me. The 'normal' me, the apathetic me and the psychopath. I imagine they live in a house, the normal me stays in the attic trying for assurance and positivity. Apathetic me stays in bed and doesn't give a fuck about anything. Eating, sleeping, talking, breathing. Anything. The psychopath is Jack Nicholson in the Shining. Every word is a stab and every stab leaves a scar. Those scars never leave and the wounds never fully heal they're just pulsating and waiting for the next triggering event.

I live in my head for a few days. Happy that my job is routine because I have no space or function to reason. My brain has a singular focus of apathy and self loathing. In that time I try to find something real to ground myself. Whether it's writing or reading or playing a mind numbing game. Shockingly enough this keeps my mind busy enough to drown out some of the negativity. It's a coping mechanism I've discovered and used over the years along with a few others that have kept me alive and relatively healthy.

Depression shelters you. Pretends to be a warm coat on a cold night and quickly envelopes you and slowly chokes you to death. It's a trap that's difficult to escape but I've had fewer and fewer episodes which makes me aware of my own strengths. I'm working on it.

Sunday, September 09, 2012

The Vow

I don't know or care about boxing or football, the soccer kind. Unless Jamaica's playing a crucial match, I have nary a single fuck to give about it. I'll watch basketball, I like it, but not all 4 quarters, the first and last only. Who cares about the 24 minutes of play time and countless time outs in between? Not I. Same goes for american football and rugby.

I will always be about track and field events. I'll watch track and field any day and I love the olympics and world championships because my Jamaican cannot be quieted, it's where we excel and I feel obligated to cheer us on. It's in my blood and our passports we have to promise to cheer Jamaican and be Jamaican every time there's a Jamaican athlete in the event.

I can't get enthused about most sports, I'm sorry. I'd rather not hear about some injury to some dudes tibia that's going to hinder his.. whatever I don't know because I'm not interested. Also fuck cricket. But I'll listen.

I'll listen to you talk about the seemingly unending, mind numbing boxing match that doesn't seem like anyone's really winning. And I'll listen to you talk about the merits of Juventus against Manchester United even though I wasn't aware they were different teams much less what sport they're for. (Soccer, right?)

We'll argue about the Celtics having a chance for the title this year (which they do every year in my book. Shut up about the Lakers.) And I promise I won't hate you if they fall as long as you don't say I told you so.

This and all things I vow to you. I vow to put the cap on the toothpaste and to never leave your side in times of crisis. I vow to always try to cook a meal you like and to keep you in my heart forever. I vow to save at least one snack for you and to be there when you fall with a cookie, open arms, an open heart and my love. I vow to try my hardest never, ever to interrupt that crucial first round doesn't mean anything game and to be truly yours and only yours. Forever. This I vow.

Saturday, September 08, 2012

I can feel my calf muscle!!!!

Sweet workout Jesus! Is it the jump jacks Lord? Is it the yoga? Can you please take this fear I have to restart Insanity so that I can smooth out my love handles Lord? I have actual anxiety about seeing Shaun T on my tv. I need a patronus Lord.

I enjoy working out. I love the way ot makes me feel. I joined the gym as soon as I was able to when I got a job and I'd go at least 5 times a week. In college I worked out a schedule for myself that included an aerobics class 4 days out of the week. On both occasions I lost over 40 lbs over a 3 month period. I loved it. I loved how I felt and how my body felt in clothes and the reactions I got from people who were seeing me through that journey.

My problem is not exercise, my problem is consistency. I'm not at all consistent. It fucks with me sometimes that I can't follow through. I dislike that facet of my personality. It reminds me too much of my parents who, to put it nicely, weren't very consistent with me. I don't want to be their mistake who has their mistakes.

So I'm back on the healthy kick. Trying to be more consistent, organizing my thoughts and my life to include exercise so that it feels like a natural entity in my life. I'm working on it and I'm surprised how much it's helping me work on myself.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Posts from the New BB

I've always found it hilarious that people come to me for advice. About relationships, careers, studies, parenting...everything. I cannot figure out my own life but I do have a gift when it comes to helping others find their paths.

I can't toot my own horn at all because the advice I usually give them is to follow their hearts, pay attention to their gut instincts and add a dash of logic to cushion your fall if all else fails. It's generic advice that they've probably heard from someone else and themselves but they need a third to solidify the theory.

I have no great life changing advice. Mostly I just sit and listen. I listen to both what they're saying and what they're trying to say. They're always trying to say something. Like the dude who was telling me how much he loved his girlfriend but was falling out of love with her or the lady who was terrified about her husband's being ill and so far away or the girl who wants more than anything to be independent and self reliant.

I listen to all of it. Give them some minutes of my time because I know how difficult it is to want to scream and have it come out as a whimper. A whimper so quiet no one hears or ignores. So I listen, I give them that ear when they need it. I can't measure. I can't measure taking a half hour of my hour lunch to reassure this man that he is not the cause of his father's abuse, that he has to live his own life and not his father's because the past can't be changed, the future is unpredictable and all we've got is the present that we're all trying to escape. He already knew that. I just vocalized that inner voice. That shit can't be measured. Not the help I attempt to offer or the toll it takes on me.

I never tell people what to do because I don't know what to do but I know that in most cases in their hearts and minds they've already made their decisions. I just help them to see that and allow them to be brave enough to follow through.

Thursday, September 06, 2012

Posts from the New BB

I love weddings. I love the tradition and the energy of two people pledging their lives to each other. I just love weddings. Not sure how I feel about marriages but weddings are amazing.

Seeing the bride make her way down the aisle, watching the man's reaction as he sees her for the first time. All made up, probably more beautiful and radiant than she's ever been or will be. His first thought is most likely 'Oh shit I'm getting married!' followed by 'She looks beautiful.' then finally 'Mine forever.' Or at least that's what I'm telling myself they're thinking.

Whether it's a religious ceremony or simply spiritual there is an energy in the air that just can't be explained. I call it 'love mist' because it seems even the air changes. Everything becomes foggy and everyone's connected and feeling the same things, happiness, love, pride... We, well I, always send out as much positive energy as I can to the couple as a means of wishing them 'good luck' for their future. I always cry or tear up because weddings are so beautiful.

Not only do I like attending weddings I like planning them... For other people. The stress is something I'd welcome if in the end you get a beautiful ceremony.

I love weddings.

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Posts from the New BB

I think about all the sacrifices I've made and I feel like it's never enough. Feeling like I haven't bled enough to earn any respect and feeling like no one respects me or my talents weighs heavily on my brain.

I hate my job. Not the company just the job. 5 years of my life. I'm grateful for the life it's afforded me, grateful for the opportunities and benefits I've received but I'm so mentally past this position it's ridiculous. I pretend everyday to give a fuck about the problems, the process, the bullshit. Every day of my life is pretend. The say's I'm allowed to escape I spend at home where I'm so mentally incapacitated that I never leave my house because I feel safe here.

My anxieties have developed anxieties of their own and I have no clue how to escape. I think about quitting my job all the time. I've applied for so many different positions in the company and have been turned down so often that I started applying for the impossible shit just to get a laugh. I'm a fucking asset to these people but to them I'm merely a pawn and I'm praying for the day I can leave and finally be free.

I've always harped on the fact that to step out of your comfort zone you must be brave AND prepared. I've failed myself because I'm not at all prepared to exit. I'm so scared to lose this job and so scared to keep it at the same damn time.

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Posts from the New BB

I'm all in my feelings tonight. I decided, for an unknown stupid reason, to watch some Frank Ocean videos on Youtube. I like seeing people perform live because though they've probably done it a million times before there's always a chord or note that really hits them. It may be a second, it may be the entire song but there's always a little bit of a real reaction thrown in unconsciously.

Watching Frank perform both a cover of the song he wrote for Beyonce 'I Miss You' and his own 'Thinking 'Bout You' had me not only belting my heart out but feeling heavy hearted. What I feel most is without. Without someone I can confide in. Without someone I can depend on. Without someone I can feel those emotions for.

I am woman hear me roar and all that jazz but it never hurts to have someone ask you how your day was and be truly interested in the response or someone you can share intimacies with (SEX!!! How I miss thee let me count the ways...) because it just feels good to share that with someone.

"I remember, how could I forget?
How you feel?
And though you were my first time
A new feel
It won't ever get old, not in my soul
Not in my spirit, keep it alive
We'll go down this road
'Til it turns from color to black and white

Or do you not think so far ahead? (Ahead)
'Cause I been thinkin' 'bout forever..."

This is the part that always gets me. That fear of being alone forever is so persistent and so concrete sometimes that you convince yourself it's real. You're convinced that this is a real, rationale and logical conclusion you've come to, so when that gets shaken and you realize 'oh it's not a foregone conclusion that i'll live with 20 cats by myself in a run down but paid off 2 bedroom' hearing him say he's thinking about forever, while knowing he's not talking directly to you, is poignant and important.

It's important because we aren't all going to be alone 'forever' some of us will be surprised by the loves we find, some of us will have kids and find a new feel and new love they never thought was possible and some of us may never find a 'one' we may find many 'ones' or just not one significant long term 'one' and that's fine. It's all fine, we'll all find a forever, whatever that situation may be.

Sometimes though you'll be all up in your feelings, feeling without and wanting. So I'll take some Frank Ocean to soothe my fears while I live in that space... At least until morning.

Monday, September 03, 2012

#XD30 Writing Challenge Day 3

She kept saying how they never meant to hurt me. Crying her eyes out as if those tears could resurrect the ghost of our friendship. I hadn't said a word in all the time she took to explain to me how it 'just happened' and THEY didn't expect it or know what to do.

I allowed her to speak because I knew when it got to my turn she wouldn't interrupt. I wanted her to hear every word of what I had to say. But I had no idea what I wanted to say. I had no idea what I was feeling as I watched her crying and try to explain.

As she blubbered on I looked around her apartment and wondered why she opted to let me down easy here. In this space. Her grungy couch which I'd told her to upgrade for years just stared back at me as I tried to avoid making eye contact.

She knew me too well knew what to say to make waver and she was using every trick in the book. "You're more than my friend you're my sister." She knew how that would make my heart flutter, make me not want to lose her as friend-family because she was one of so few that I considered family.

I don't know which emotion to show first. I want to scream for her to shut her lying, betraying ass up but anger was never my due. Indifference is where I shine. She asks me if I have anything to say. I give her the look that let's her know what I have to say she won't want to hear. That shuts her up real quick.

I was staring out her front window when I realized I recognized the car that pulled into her drive way. I almost laughed at the sheer hilarity of the situation. She's begging for forgiveness and he's showing up to... What? Beg for forgiveness too? Or simply offer support? And to whom?

I hear her doorbell ring out and for the fiftieth time since the conversation's start I wonder how long they'd been a they and when did him and I stop truly being an us. She slowly gets up from her chair and ambles towards the door. We can't ignore that doorbell any longer I guess. I shrug my mind's too muddled to think or react appropriately so I'll go with the flow, at the very least this will be interesting.

Knowing that once I'm by myself... I shake my head and the first set of tears away. I can't think of that now. She opens the door and he's standing there, 6ft of nothing but lies and deception. This look on his face is telling me that 1. It's definitely over between us 2. He's a sorry lying ass motherfucker and 3. Please don't kill us.

I sigh and pick my bag up off her kitchen counter. I zipped it shut keeping the secret I'd come to share a secret for now. I pushed passed both of them as they hadn't moved from the door jamb. Waiting for my earthquake is my guess. I'm proud that I didn't give in and tear her apartment to pieces. I'm proud of myself for that.

I feel the sun on my face and the tears start falling. My brain can't stay shut down anymore. No sobs though. Not in front of them, I can't let them have that. "Are you happy?" Comes out of my mouth before I realize what I'm saying.

"Wh-What?" She stutters.

I turn my face up to the sun and close my eyes, I feel it's warmth all the way down to my toes.

I repeated "Are you happy?"

I turn and look at them both. I'd known and loved her longer but he, he was my love. Now they're looking at me as if I just sprouted a new head and a tail.

"I don't know. No. I don't want to lose you but I had to come clean." She answers moving a few inches closer to me.

He never says a word.

I nod once and move towards my car. I don't look back at them.

Sunday, September 02, 2012

Posts from the New BB

Apparently the gods of society have deemed it law that if you're fat you MUST be friendly and approachable. Being fat AND unfriendly is a societal no-no because fatness is already a strike against you and you know what they say? 3 strikes and you're sucking face with some douche bag because you're desperate. And fat. Whose deluded notion is it that being fat defines any of my personality traits? I self identify as 'fat bitch' because I'd like it known upfront even before we grudgingly say "good morning" that I'm someone who will tear you to pieces despite the 'fat and friendly' tag you probably labeled me with upon our first meeting. Actually who am I kidding? I'm more than likely to say 'please and thank you' than spit in your face when you cut me off in conversation, even though I'd be justified.

There are tons of 'rules' we fatties have to live by in order to fit in to the size 10 world. Acceptable fat, thick versus fat, hour glass figure versus pear shape versus everything else... I could go on forever. Fuck that. I fit in a world that I've created for myself. Albeit not very easily because almost everything is made for the size 10 and under frame and at an ample size 20/22 I've had to create my own space to survive. I won't even front and say I'm not a pleasant plump person because I am, I'm the nice one. Always have been and I've always been fat but the two don't prove or disprove the other. People tend to try to force you into a particular role because once you're there then they can control their interactions with you and can create appropriate responses to you it makes it easier for them to relate when they place you into their created mental image.

But who says we have to be what people think we are? When I tell people I love yoga and exercising I can see them scrambling trying to fit this new info into the fat frame of me they've created. I like surprising people but truthfully I couldn't give to fucks about what 99.99999999% of society thinks about me. The people who matter to you, who really matter, take you as is. I don't walk around thinking every skinny person is a bitch based on nothing but their frame. I wait for them to say something bitchy and stupid before I make that judgment, which they do 95% of the time (this may or may not be an accurate or truthful statistic).

So fine I'm pleasant not because I'm fat and feel I need to be but because I'm a nice person. My horoscope description is very accurate it says I'm nice, creative, emotional, withdrawn and not particularly happy with crowds not once is my fat mentioned. I'm a winner for tens of thousands of other irrelevant reasons.

Give me my 20s!

Saturday, September 01, 2012

Posts from the New BB

Sometimes you just have to slap some pink lipstick on and go to the supermarket. At least that's what I tell myself when I painted my lips hot pink today.

Getting out of bed today was a struggle but in my mind the bacon and chicken nuggets are a genuine need. I'm thinking about my vacation that arrives on Monday and I know I'd have regretted not getting that bacon.

I'm trying not think too much about all the shit I didn't get done today. I keep harping on the fact that I put this bright pink gloss on my lips for a 10 minute trip to the supermarket. Trying to avoid the truths that this was the least important chore for the day. And definitely not analyzing why my brain justifies this trip as a success when I literally didn't do shit else today. Including but not limited to not bathing, not brushing my teeth, not helping my Mom with the laundry and not working out.

I really, really need my vacation on Monday maybe that'll shake my ass up.

S/N - Oh I'm participating in XD's ( 30 day writing challenge so here's my first foray. We'll see if it works out. Day 1 down.