Very sorry that I haven't written in the past week. I have had my hands full . I have never missed ha ving a car but you can bet your ass I do now. On the bright side I have my scooter ( Vespa).
That is the only bright side to it . After waiting for 2 weeks for the appt for the tags , the big day finally came. I was up early and excited to finally be able to jump on and ride. Here in Amsterdam you must have special tags and the place is in the middle of nowhere. I was insured for only that one day. I wasn't driving ( as it has been 10 yrs since I hopped my big ass on a scooter . It was scary then and it still is. But then again so is crossing the street here ( crazy bikes everywhere).
A friend of mine had offered to drive the scooter for me . Trust me , this will make a big statement in my life . Mainly a lot of the whining may stop but I wouldn't hold my breath for that .
Ok, as I was saying here we are fighting the traffic in the scooter lane , keep in mind we are also fighting the elderly in their little handicapped cars ( I WANT ONE TOO). And they are insane about who is able to use these little pathways and don t mind letting you know it.
We have been driving for about 20 mins when I see a gas station and tell my friend to pull over cause it feels as if the back tire is flat. Yes, it did cross my mind that we are both big as a house . But still we stopped. I must say that I was looking very cool in my new red helmet. It is shinny and not a nerdy helmet . I couldn't have that at all.
When we jump our big asses off the scooter the tire looks find... an ahh haa moment and not in a Oprah way.
So everything looks good and we are ready to jump back on when gas is leaking and it wont start.
OMG!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME ,I HATE IT HERE , BLA BLA
Ok, after I take a pill and calm down we push it to the shop. This shop is only for repairing scooters. It is not a bike shop, not a clothing shop, not a ice cream shop. It is a scooter shop and I know this because I see 100 scooters outside.
Out comes the shop owner.. He is a grumpy dutchman and he has clearly had a few bits of cheese to many and maybe a hangover . I ask him if he can fix it and he says :yeah, I will try to fit it in today otherwise you will have to come and get it” I said but the scooter doesn't run at all. ( He could just keep it overnight until it is fixed
Guess what this grumpy kasskop ( cheese head)” That's not my problem” ( very popular saying among the dutch.)
I reached for another pill because I was getting close to shoving something and not cheese down his throat. I am in full force and I am about to get very aggressive , I do the self talk thing... shit it is not working. At this moment I saw a man that looked like a , a junkie . There it is I said it standing on the corner about to shoot up.
At that moment I no longer saw a junkie , I saw Dr feel-good. Cause I swear I considered a shot of heroin and a piece of cheese.
Ok the self talk worked and i didn't become a junkie that day. I took the tram home and by the time I got there, Mr Kasskop called to say it was fixed and out the door I raced to the scooter shop.
I asked him for the bill, he just smiled and said “ No Problem”
It seems my whole week has gone that way. But I can't complain, I have the scooter and it has no tags. It will take me another 2 weeks to get the tags. In the meantime , I am sitting in the window with my taser gun..... ( Scooters are stolen daily , but they better think twice before touching mine )
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When you hit a bump in the road on a legendary road trip, you don’t get out of the car and abandon it you keep going, cause any good trip has its hiccups but it’s worth getting back in the car and moving forward.
I am a bit down today , maybe that is a understatement. I am drowning in self pity .I do see this so I jumped my big ass off the couch and went out a bit . Just walking and thinking, but in my case thinking isn't always a good thing. I can think myself either into a panic so huge that something so simple as a spot on my shirt can turn itself into a all out manic crazy woman. It just isn't good and hard to recover from. On the other hand if I am already stressed and depressed which happened to be the case today, only more depression follows. Since I have found out that I had bipolar I have sometimes used it to be lazy and cover up my own bullshit. Then it hit me so hard that I have no words for the cycling emotions and unbearable pain that almost led me to just end it. But as selfish as I have been with my kids that I can't do. I have always been a fighter , even when it was just to be selfish . I always knew how to bounce back. Being in such a dark place only meant bouncing off the walls. I have accepted that I am a bit “ special “ another word for strange. Emotions are a nightmare to me. I am fucking damaged when it comes to the emotion control shit. But I want so hard to be the one that made it ' living normal ' with this. I am finding so hard being alone and dealing with all the shit that life throws at us. I can feel it building up again and I am fighting that next emotional roller coaster that I have been riding . I feel lonely and I have never ever felt like fuck it.. What I am saying is the fight is going out of me regardless of how I am hiding it . I am getting fatter and the lines in my face are showing more , I find it mind blowing that I just don't care anymore . Not in a confident way either.
Am I going to pay for my sins for the rest of my life ? Ok, I need to snap out of it. This is sounding very pitiful and that never looks good on anyone. Maybe that is just how I feel today. I will work through it but this shit aint easy .
I can be honest enough to say that I do not like being single. It is cool when you are younger. I want so very bad to share my chaotic world with someone else. I know that I am a loving and kind person
but that doesn't include desperate.
I just had a phone call which i didn't answer , a person who I am sure has read my blog , I know this because I clearly wanted to be open about myself and express that I am a handful. But I have been told that a very passionate handful . Clearly he knows this but hasn't stopped calling and just waiting. I am fearful, I mean it was cute when I was in my 20's and 30's ... nope it not the same kind of cute.
You see writing does make things more clear. No one will come knocking on my door unless I make myself available.
I so badly want to start the page over , but as I said from the beginning, this is me honest as I can be. I would rather be giving words of wisdom today , and why am I listening to 70's R&B ? As if I needed a little help with getting in touch with my emotions! Pff !! Anyone would be depressed .
I am going to take a shower and get cleaned up. Then we can keep going .
Marvin Gaye ? Luther Vandross, Babyface , are you kidding . Better put on the chili peppers or U2.
Talk to you soon.
I don't know about anything else but I am clean and spring fresh as my mom would say.
Ok here we go.. back to the attempted writing :
It was the 70's and I was maybe 5 or 6 . I don't know. I do not recall alot before that . I don't really recall 9 and 10 yrs old. But this is one thing that I do recall. Before I start , I am begining to get the feeling that i am bashing my dad, yep always a daddy's girl. The point is , he is dead as of a year ago, and I am keeping it real. We just haven't got to my other family members yet.
Well in our household I do not recall having a everyday babysitter , you know like when both parents work. Not yet anyway. We lived right off Crenshaw in East LA, and it was nice there. We lived in a white apartment building that had a total of 4 apartments. All the mothers knew each other, the kids played together and we all went to church . My moms best friend known as aunt betty lived upstairs with 3 girls. Tonya was the same age as me and we became sisters. Her and her short greasy kinky hair that she faithfully had “hot ironed “ every Saturday night . Aunt wasn't married and she had some fire in her . I do remember we often stayed with her when running away from my dad was necessary. Like any other saturday we were upstairs and the girls each took thier turn sitting in the chair getting the Sunday doo. I often hated it because I would och mom ,and I could see the skin burning and the occasional hit in the head when the girl complained. I was sacred of Aunt Betty. That woman did not play. When I was young I often if she even like her kids , as I grew older I understood that most white kids didn't get whoppin's with the wooden spoon, we did. But not as often as Aunt Betty tried to kill her kids. ( Maybe I should have stayed with aunt Betty for awhile , I bet she would have beaten the bipolar out of me ). Anyway, it was also fun because it was one of the rare times that my mom would let loose and laugh. As we already discussed my dad was no laughing matter , to her .
Everyone all fed , clean and church clothes hanging out for Sunday morning.
We said our goodbyes including my bad ass little brother and headed down stairs.
It is unclear to me why we had a baby sitter or maybe she wasn't even the babysitter but a friend.
My cousin was staying with us at the time. He was sharing a room with my brother and mom and dad's room was across the hall. I was in a room on the other side of the apartment . It was off the kitchen. You see the facts are scrabbled about who this young woman was or why she was sleeping on the floor next to my bed. Just having guest that night .
Since my bedtime was 8:30pm i was already tucked in and asleep by the time she made her way to my room to settle in for the evening.
I did't hear her come at all, what I heard was something woke me up and that little voice inside of me said to be quiet. Then I heard it, was it my mom, was it pain , why was my dad's voice coming from the floor . Still I knew to keep my eyes shut. I remember thinking why is my dad hurting her and why is she acting like she likes it . No one needed to tell me that some bad shit was happing right under my nose.
Skipping to the morning , I jumped myself and very early and ran into my brothers room and woke up my big cousin( i think he was maybe 17).
i called him in the hallway and even though I was young and he was 17 and half sleep. He could tell that something had happened. I tried to be quiet because my mom was sleeping next to the enemy in the next room. ( her enemy , my hero, little girls and their daddies ).
My cousin directly told me to tell my mom. Just then she was coming out the bedroom looking at us as if we smoked her last Cools ciggie. Then it happened. I betrayed my daddy and I saw him as the enemy that day . I WAS TELLIN MY MOM!!
the was I remember it was like this: he was out of the bed and yelling and defending himself along with helping my mom throw the girl out. I have never seen my mom get physical ( without it being done to her ) before. I saw my jump 10 feet tall and was clearly in charge out dragging this girl by her hair and throwing her out . Guess who was next?
My dad just glance at me long enough for me to know that I was now the enemy. My whole point in bringing this little hush hush story up was even then I was more afraid of him being mad at me for telling than for being mad that he had disrespected my mother and his children in her own house. Not to even think about the fact that I was being damaged that day.
Things took a turn quickly and the focus was turned towards my mom, but that day she did not back down , kind of.
My brother and I were sent to church as if nothing happened with aunt Betty , because talking about your family business got you a ripe gospel ass whopping.
I am not sure what took place downstairs but we stayed Sunday night upstairs and come Monday morning , Tonya and I were off to school. The school was only down the street and back then all the women on the block had rights to the whopping spoon . I dint need to be picked up. I just skipped home expecting the worst but I what was in store for me put my dad right back at the top of my hero list .
My whole bedroom was remolded pink and along with every little girls dream . A canopy . Need I say more ? Well, i will . I saw in the corner of my room a record player and 45 record of the Jackson 5 waiting for me. All was forgiven and it was never spoke of again.
That was the beginning of a long list of heros.
I have just found a great book that I heard about a very long time ago. Called “The Bluest Eye” by Toni Morrison. Maybe some of you have heard about this book on the famous “Oprah book club? “
I had heard of this book many years ago but I just couldn't or wouldn't bring myself to read it. I just downloaded it or is it uploaded the book on my Sony Reader . I can't wait to get settled in and begin. That says alot to me and where I am right now . I am really thinking that maybe this hasn't been such a bad thing this writing. I have let out feelings of painful loss and some empty yet very full emotional feelings . I have even allowed myself to have a laugh or two.
OK yesterday I was on the Jane Fonda train and today I am proud to admit... the train is still rolling and I mean rolling down the track. I made a great salad last night and walked again into work . I also took a 40 min walk to the Post Office very happy to send my mom a small slice of Amsterdam in a way of a Easter cake and yummy dutch cheese. I think I will always struggle with my weight , fuck it ,I love yummy dutch cheese. And I have another question that I have been asking myself, I know I could go to the gym NOT!!! I could drink less, eat better and maybe add a few other things to the list but really people, I am over 40 with children and 2 small grandchildren ( ouch !)
When does a grow ass woman start to just accept herself , as always I still think I am hot but yes, I see that the years are showing . But aren't they going to show anyway ?
When I look in the mirror, I don't see that burnt out crazy bitch who knew it all, no I see ME.
I see myself in my 20's shopping with my mom or when I was living in Germany. I think that , that was the best time of my life. I hadn't overstepped the rules yet and was somewhat still part of a family. Meaning my mom, stepfather ( God bless him) and little brother whom I had never really understood. (Wherever, you are just know I think of you)The 80's were on and I was in hairspray heaven. ( did I forget to mention we lived on a Army base..... ahhhhh that should have said it all )
It may come as a huge surprise to you all but my purple haze days didn't start until I was over 21 years old. I was just perfectly fucked in between. I think I may be having what is called in my world a “good day”. I can laugh and put the words on paper so easy sometimes and at other times, It is really like a knife on a blackboard. That shit hurts. But not today. I might be OK, maybe not.. but stick around my friends I will overcome.
I will feel the sun upon my face and not have tears in my eyes. For I am alot to manage , I have been damaged!!
With that said I surely hope that I can soon get this software in where I can just speak to the computer .. I find it hard to keep my place or really feel the burn as I like to say. But If i am going to tell it then it must come honest . That is not a burn that is a Fireball. But not today .
Thank you all for reading and please have a little patience with me . The deep dark stuff doesn't come out in one day . And when I can see beyond that shit, it is also word the words.
Good Morning . Wow this flu that has been kicking my ass is finally letting up.
It is always amazes me that how when you are sick you always just want your mom... doesn't matter the age . Maybe I am just a be ass cry baby. Anyway I know how I am , if I feel even a little bit better I am ready to go out and take on the world. When I should just take it easy . I had a “ poor pitiful me week. I am hoping to change that this week. As most of you know I am trying to make something on written paper ( like a book ..yes a book ) out of my writings. But I think that I should just stop thinking of it that way .. Just write .
The last time `I wrote i had just hit a spot when I was in jail.. I don't want to go there yet.. cause in truth you must me to understand what led up to that . Today i just am going to dig a bit deeper into my youth. It wasn't really all bad. You know I had what I needed or so it seemed. I keep going back to a time when I lived in Oakland. You may not know this but Oakland was magical place during the 60's and 70's.. the movement or whatever you may call it was everywhere. And in some way I was apart of it just by being there. I find myself proud of that . They had the Black Panthers , They had the `free love , I saw a bit of it all.
Maybe that was a good part of being in a mixed family. My dad really had no idea what he wanted but he did try new things .. and here I was right behind him. I recall chatting my head off, yet not knowing why. Ok I was being apart of something .
It is a great day here in Amsterdam, the sun is out and as every sunny day my small apartment is hot as hell. Lekker ( that means good in dutch )
lately I have been focused on all the things in my life that are going wrong . After re-reading what I wrote on the 16 of April, it could have been alot worse. It isn't often that I just sit back think of the good things. Maybe I need to do that more often. Even as I write this I am today just thinking of the nice things . Like the the 4th of July parties with all the family. I really miss that , you know the family things. I did the things that I did and at the time I really didn't care . I don't know if that counts for anything now . But I am so ready to live again. I was watching Oprah and Jane Fonda was on. ( she looks like a damn goddess , and I regret deeply not getting her work out video in the 80's . But I have the Wii) . She said something that stuck with me, in your 20's you don't know shit but you think you know it all. In your 30's ( for most of us ) you are busy having a family and making mistakes .. In your 40's you start to open your eyes a bit . This is the second part of my life. I want to make it worth something. Maybe that is why I am so damn angry at myself all the time and instead of reflecting ... I am just staying in the shit ! I am going to stop and go for a walk.
Yeap, that Jane Fonda is looking damn good and so can I .
Hello there again my imperfect friends.
I had no idea but some of you have been reading this. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. When I first came up with the idea of writing ä book , you know what I mean.. so whatever. I had no idea what I was in for . Some of you know me on a personal level and to you my heart huggs you.
I have been sick with a bit of the flu for a few days and it also gave me some time to think about what I am doing . ( Thanks cuz for the emotional support )
I want to just jump in there with something that is on my mind.I sent my son a box with somethings that I knew he wanted . Needless to say he hasn’t got the box. Maybe I need to update you a bit. He is the youngest of my 4 children and the one I don’t know at all. So this is his first meeting with me , disappointment ?Ok I know I sent it and I do not want to make any assumptions today . But I am at a loss of what I need to say now. I know how it is to be a kid waiting on a gift that is coming from the post. It is alot like being in jail waiting for the mail...
I am going off track again, it seems like I just cannot get fucking there . But you have NOT been invited to a bullshit pity party .Alot is going on in this head of mine, I am not ready to come clean yet . 9 with what is happening today)
Seriously lets head back to a time that I am ready to come clean about . I am well into midlife and I am trying my best to choose the right path but not for me only. I guess it is the back pains and small wrinkle's that are forming but I may be on to something. being selfless.
over the weekend all I could manage to think of was the fact that I need to go home and deal with all this … my scars are real,living and they have a name . I am spent the hours awake this weekend only reading about me going home and what is the best way for me to get a visa .
My mom seems to think that I need to write the papers and media. That may be to dramatic but what the hell, I am bipolar . Let the chips fall where they may. Suddenly, I see that I have not given the attention to seeing my children as a priority. I have only been concerned with who is going to love me . why am I alone? Is this crossing over to womanhood. I need to really get myself back to the writing of this book. I am not feeling rushed , I need to get to know myself and be good with myself .
What I am trying to say is I am accepting of the fact that nothing is easy and this is going to be a process.
Anyone seen the movie “limitless”? i need one of those pills. :) Never mind.
Ok, here is the deal I am going to start tomorrow with the hard facts of writing some my life stories for you.
something else... I am going to be ok.
Thanks and have a great Sunday
Went to the local hospital today to have something simple done. I was put to sleep and when I woke up.. ( whining I want my mom and did everything go OK) This cheese eating @$%^& said to me .." I am not your mom and the doctor will call you to let you know how your surgery ( minor) went." When I asked if I would need pain medication later.. she said " make an appt with your house doctor.... Empathy dammit ... I wanna go home and where was Dr Mac Dreamy bi**h
How is everyone on this Sunday afternoon? I have had some serious writers block. There are times when I think back and I get so wrapped up in my thoughts and then GONE. I have a lot of things that I find are just hard to put on paper. I haven’t been drinking and I must say I don’t know if I can do this without a little something. Lately I am trying to stay focused on my work and just doing the daily things that most people don’t even think about. My weekend was filled with mixed emotions , I did something very dumb on one hand and almost allowed the ex back into my world. But that only took a few minutes before I knew that once again I would be doing the same shit and expecting different results. I hate being alone, I mean it has gotten easier and I have offers to date. Yes, I joined the world of online dating.. But damn that scares me. The one that I love is so far away and I am accepting that the fairy tale of all those years ago is over. Maybe I will start there, I sit here looking at this wonderful picture that was taken in Greece. It was a wonderful time in my life. I could imagine that someone could love me so deeply with all my faults and weird ass ways. But not only did he accept it, he allowed me to accept that it was ok not to be perfect. I make mistakes, get back up and try again. I miss having someone there to hold my hand when I am so ready to open the window and jump. To rub my shoulders and tell me “ it’s ok. That is so co-dependent and I feel I always will be that way.
Anyway back to this so-called book, I am going to install software that I can just talk to the computer. Hopefully that will be better. But it won’t happen today.
I really want to get back to the writing of my life and me. So far you know I was born in Amsterdam and moved to the States when I was very young. 2 years I think.
You know I have struggled with myself all my life and I briefly told you about my “first baby daddy”. Shit we haven’t even thought the surface yet. I have 4 kids. Those years in Florida were not all bad, but they set the stage for me repeating the same mistakes. Now my kids are not mistakes and I am very proud of all of them. Sadly, I had no part in the way the turned out. I had leave Florida after meeting this Bodybuilder who was in the Mr. World contest in Orlando. Within hours after the contest he walked in hooters and it was a blur mixed cocaine and alcohol. If you any of you have done coke then you know what I mean when I say there was a lot of “Charlie Talk “ going on. It was like we had known forever. I didn’t know this man at all and when whipped out his visa and said lets get some more “Charlie” I had no idea we were headed to the airport, high as hell on a plane to North Carolina. This is one time I really put myself in some deep shit. This guy was mobbed up in a serious way