The end of the decade.

It is gonna be official...a new year and a new decade. I am excited, relieve and optimistic for 2010 (I call it twenty-ten) as prospects and possibilities are miles away from daunting. The trippiest things that has happened these past few weeks are soooo incredibly rich in meaning, value and insight...the other night, I watched the Mike Tyson documentary and recieved auditory greatness from big Mike. That film is a hybrid of sensitivity, passion, self-connection, and reflectiveness, which encompasses how I feel about myself. For instance, Mike's telling of his childhood provided insight to the tramatic motivations that produces strong personalities and self-worth...being made fun of for being fat, having your shit thrown onto the back of a truck by some bitchass bullies, and inhumanely witnessing your pet pidgeon's breathe one last time as a sick person squeezes its soul...fuck the dumb shit. Money is motivation but hunger to earn self-respect will drive anyone to the top..."If I could be like Mike". I was mos def reminded about my life history and the experiences that built my heart of steel magnolias; partly tough yet delicate. The past decade has reminded me of how I was built...As I briefly reflect and remember the past decade, I can instantly recall my high and low moments, the lessons learned from shady bitches and insecure men, and getting by through the two loses who were my love. And from my recollections, I am able to make the connection to why I shined brightly in certain aspects and dealt with the drama without backing down...I was the same kid who got punked on during recess and who's presence was never graced. That shit will toughen you up like a muthafucka. Once I reached a certain age of autonomy for controlling how people recieve and treat me, I never went back to the same timid little girl. There were times when I got knocked down and fell into despair, but it was shaken off within the reasons for time. Out of the past decade, I have done shit that I am still beaming about. I graduated college and even got the goddamn gobernator's autograph on my diploma. SICK. I brought myself back to life from the deadly alcoholic state that I was swimming and drowning in. My love that engages me has engaged himself to me. Family business will stay only a business until (I really silently pray) stars guide them to what they want and need. And friendships are not suppose to me complicated, competitive, and shallow. So for 2010, my forward momentum will always have a backbone of last decade + the little girl with the fucked up childhood = Womanopoly. Pizzease.

Music Therapy: "Money to Blow" Birdman feat. Drake & Weezy -"I am what everybody in my past don't want me to be".

Target: Where Philosophical Epiphanies Arise.

I never leave empty-handed when I journey to my store Target, especially this time. When I went there last week with my main man, I ended up leaving with a shirt from the clearance rack, eye drops for applying eye shadows wet, some snacks, and a self-created realization, free of charge. While we were conversing throughout Target's cosmetic section, the topic of mothers & body image/issues came up, coincidently, in an area where abundant supplies of beautification products are displayed. As I unhappily recall the negative remarks my mother made about my body's shape & size, I, with provocation, spoke out-loud, "Mothers are the poison to their daughter's self-esteem"...and its true. Can you remember when your mom commented, criticized, reflected, constructively criticized, scrutinized, picked-on, made fun of, poked fun of, and unintentionally hurt your feelings/self-esteem/self-worth? Obviously, I do remember. Whenever my mother made comments about my weight or what I was eating, it made me overly self conscious about how my image appeared to cultural expectations and Hollywood's expectations. And although I am wiser, college bound, independent, and self-surviving, the little girl's mental tolerance still exists. SO, as it might be projection, the reason for my mother's "worry" on how her daughter looks is still damaging, like air's presence to exposed steel. The only way I cope with the corroded pieces of my self-esteem is by understanding my mother's past, our cultural stereotypes, female objectification in society, and remembering my values that I set for my life. At the end of the day, when the lights are out, body image becomes only what you can recall in the light...if you see yourself in a positive illumination, a FUCK size charts according to a MANufacture, a unique & individualized illumination, then you are on the path to contentment. Am I on this path? Absolutely. Since I am generally most content with having attainable goals, and losing weight is part of a realistic goal, I feel okay...especially when its dark, as I still dream in color form. Pizzeace.

Music Therapy: "It Kills Me" by Melanie Fiona-"And it kills me, to know how much I really love you..."

All I Want is a Hoola Hoop.

It's holiday time now and what comes to mind are arrangements of bright twinkling lights from a color wheel, sugary goodies of peppermint & allspice, shopping, numerous ladies wearing UGGS, and the cold days and nights. Also, the obvious and pain in the neck thing about the holidays is shopping for presents that will not go to me...I usually feel perplexed, challenged and irritated when I buy presents for others because I do not know what is the "perfect" gift for the recipient...I know the thought counts but fuck Hallmark; presents make us happy, especially if its something we wanted and got it for free. At least as a savior, I have Secret Santa and White Elephant events every year to relieve me of this petty stress I create by being overly conscientious. But seriously, all I really want is a hoola hoop in the nonliteral sense. Because for this holiday year, I just want my main man, friends and familia to be all good health-wise, emotionally content, and presently active in my socialization. No shady shams and tragedies. Please. That's my spirit for Christmas. However, if I could have any sky is the limit gift this year, it would be a trip around the world, to countries that have strong cultural traditions, street food vendors, and gorgeous natural surroundings. In the meantime, I will continue to travel vicariously through Anthony Bourdain's travels. Pizzease!

Music Therapy: Boys II Men, "Let it Snow"- "Hey, it's another Christmas holiday. It's a joyous thing let the angels sing, cause we're together..."