So the mystery behind all the ouchies in my back have been solved: all of my thoracic vertebrae have herniated discs. FUN, RIGHT? Right. So now I get to visit a physical therapist wherein I'll be told that I'm doing everything in my life incorrectly and that's why my back is fucked up. Or I'll get some exercises that will help alleviate the pain. Whatever. All I hear is CO-PAYS OUT THE YING-YANG UP IN THIS BITCH!!! Again, whatever. I have to see the PT, right?
Anyfucks, we cannot pinpoint what caused this so there's no point on harping on that. It's time to fix it as best I can and move on with my life, especially because this quack said it's okay for me to continue working out. BOOOOOO! (I'm lying, she's not a quack. She's a pretty awesome doctor, and coming from me you know that means a lot.)
But what I really want to address is, umm, the films from my MRI. I have questions.
It looks like the lizard baby from "V" right?
And now it has fangs!!!
If anyone reading this is or knows a radiologist, please help a sistah out because I'm not trying to be a host to some sort of angry alien being who's trying to take over the world through me. OH MY GOD WHAT IF THIS ALIEN CONTROLS THE VOICES?!?!?
SEND. HELP.
*smooches...not blaming WebMD for once*
--------- those films are mad suspect...
Normally, when I go on a random hiatus from blogging, I pre-date some entries real quick and act like they've been here the whole time and you just missed it. Well, I had to have a conversation with my OCD and explain that the stress of worrying about whether or not I had a Jaded Photograph for November up on the blog was one of the reasons our liver was acting up.
MY OCD: BUT WE'VE MISSED SO MANY DAYS WORTH OF BLOG-POSTING!!!
ME: Do you WANT to die? Because that's what will happen if you don't learn to chill the fuck out.
So here's me (us!) posting on a Wednesday evening, watching the snow mock me from my office window, and willing myself not to care that I've not updated you guys for over five days. The Rockaways were pummeled to death by a hurricane; I think my OCD will survive this minor (non)tragedy.
We do hope you and yours are doing well and haven't lost anything that can't be replaced. I once had an entire basket of childhood photos RUINED by water damage and cried myself to sleep for days afterward. I know it's all material stuff but it still hurts. Watching the coffee table your great-great-great-grandmother brought over from the old country, that was handed down to you, wash away in a flood hurts. Do not be afraid or ashamed to mourn the things you've lost, especially if what you've lost is your sense of security.
And please, if we're friends or know each other in real life, and you're cold or hungry or displaced because of Sandy or even this stupid, rude, audacious snow that is falling outside my office window, please do not hesitate to contact me. My place is small but I have a comfy and warm-ish couch plus some yummy vittles with your name on them. We can gorge on cheesy Netflix movies all night!
*smooches...slowly trying to get back to normal*
--------- if it's even possible...
...you always discover new things about yourself and the people around you and what they mean to you. During this crazy storm I was incredibly worried for my mom out in New Jersey, but all she lost was part of her chimney. I was nervous about this precariously lean-y tree threatening the walls and roof of Mari's studio, but everything is still standing. I missed my babies, and hoped their dad was assuring them of their safety in my absence, but they were fine (minus cable and WiFi). And all my friends in Long Island and along the coast, especially those who are part of the City's emergency response teams- I eagerly awaited word from them, hoping everything was OK.
But I also discovered that I can, in fact, share my airspace with someone else and not want to kill them in their sleep with a dull machete soaked in vinegar and bleach. And it was just like in the cartoons- a light bulb popped up over my head, out of nowhere...
(Click here for the remix featuring Ludacris- clearly the better version of the two. I love me some LUDA!)
*smooches...admitting to nothing and everything at once*
--------- SHUT. UP.
This is The Jaded NYer reporting LIVE from a remote, secure location, wishing you all a safe next couple of days while this Sandy bitch tries to take us out. I have water, food, good company and have charged all my crap. Am I missing anything?
Now, don't get all macho and stupid and put yourself or loved ones in danger, but remember- you are from New York. NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER SURRENDER.
And groove to this while you still have power...
What are you all doing to prepare for the unpredictable weather?
*smooches...wishing you all the best*
--------- I'll keep updating as long as Google and ConEd allow it!
Last week I was trying to shop for produce to feed my family and was utterly disappointed at the prices I had to endure. I mean, $4 for some cauliflower just didn't seem right! And don't even get me started on the price of tomatoes and cucumbers; just appalling!
Color me stupid, however, when I was sent a link to a video about a couple of farms Upstate that had been completely ruined by Hurricane Irene. I had heard that it was bad up there but I was not aware how bad until I saw the videos.
This all tied in to my planned visit Upstate this past weekend; Celia had already warned me that it might take longer to get to her house because the usual roads were gone. GONE. As in the flooding was so bad that it just up and stole the goddamn roads away. Of course you hear stuff like that and your eyes widen with shock and you say things like "Wow!" or "Oh my god that's terrible!" but it isn't real to you, because all that happened on your block during that storm was that a few branches fell on your stairs. OH, THE HUMANITY!
But then you read stories like this and you realize this is a motherfucking DISASTER the likes you've never had to experience. Except now you're experiencing because this is your home state and those farms help feed your lazy, City ass but now they're gone.
Then it all get really real when you drive through Prattsville and you see this:
When I think back to the storm weekend, and how much people complained about the City being shut down and how Bloomberg overreacted and how it was all for nothing I couldn't believe it- did you want something bad to happen? You're mad because our elected officials were trying to avoid a repeat of Snowmaggedon 2010?? And now I want to say to those same people, how dare you moan and whine and complain when that hurricane devastated many whole towns! I saw those uprooted homes with my own eyes. I saw the residents of that town drinking their troubles away at a local bar, and Celia overheard one of them say they plan to rebuild in six months- completely impossible but who's about to squash this man's hopes and dreams? Really, once this all becomes real it's hard to unsee and unhear about the tragedies.
When I think of how lucky we were in the City to not have suffered that fate... and how tragic the situation has become for these small, impoverished towns of Upstate New York, it really put things in perspective. I shop for food with only my wallet in mind, and sometimes, when you live paycheck-to-paycheck like I do you have to shop like that. But I never stop to think where my cauliflower and tomatoes come from, and how hard those farmers work to yield a big enough crop to feed us City folk, who then turn around and complain about the price of tomatoes as we sit upon our fancy digs. I don't think about the people they employ, the animals they have to feed and the myriad of bureaucratic red tape they have to deal with in order to keep their family businesses afloat.
I wish I could do more than donate money to help them out, but if that's the only weapon at my disposal right now, so be it. I'm not the pushy money-asking type, but if it at all moves you, maybe you can donate some money, too?
UPDATE: Just read a post on the Green In BKLYN website that gives you more ways to donate money or food, diapers and other basic necessities to the families who need it. So if you don't have money but you stocked up on non-perishables prior to the storm that you're not using, consider dropping them off at one of the green markets around the City. I'll be your best friend if you do!
*smooches...wishing these families all the best* ---------- if I made even 1% more people aware of this situation and that 1% tells another 1%...
You can read about Friday and Saturday by clicking here.
By now many of you probably read all the news reports about the crazy amount of gun violence that plagued NYC over the long weekend, so I won't recount it or link to it here. Just know some people were shot over (what else?) some stupid shit and ruined what was an otherwise super-fun time.
Let's not focus on the fact that I had my baby with me out on the Parkway and that we were almost shot/trampled to death. Never mind that all my fears of crowds and parades starting becoming a reality some time after 2:30PM on Monday afternoon. I'd rather not speak about I've never been SO HAPPY to see Park Slopians in my life after narrowly escaping god-knows-what. Let me instead tell you how much fun we had (before bullets began whizzing by my face. Allegedly.)
On Sunday I decided to skip yoga and sleep in because, if you recall, I got home rather late (or early, depending on what you consider 4:30AM to be), and trekked up to Harlem in the late afternoon for an End-of-Summer house party at Eb's. Oh and she made my FAVORITE: fried chicken. All my thoughts of eating healthy and sparingly went right out the window as I promptly heaped some beans and mac 'n cheese on my plate. Fuck yo Primal lifestyle, there was FRIED CHICKEN in my midst!
We ate, chatted, made fun of people (at one point in the evening there was a strange influx of really unfortunate-looking dudes. Wearing rolled-up cut-off jeans & skippys. Is that a thing? Are guys- STRAIGHT guys- really loving this style?) and danced to the only three soca songs Eb would allow to be played.
(Special shout out to Eb for another great party & to her homie Mike Barnes for that kick-ass sangria that had me rethinking this whole "no alcohol" policy I've tried to instill)
Afterward I chilled with The F$%k-it List at Penn Station until her Suburban Express train arrived and then went home to my babies who had FINALLY come home after being away for two weeks. I was supposed to take a super-disco-nap in order to participate in J'Ouvert but, ummm, my body reconnected with the sofa and it was a wrap.
I woke up at 6:00AM. WOMP WOMP
Instead of beating myself up over it, I just woke the babies up and urged them to get ready for fun on the Parkway, but only N was willing to go. So we got dressed, ate something, bought some flags and scouted a sweet spot near Utica Avenue with enough space for when The F$%k-it List and Tiffany joined me.
The parade itself was so beautiful and fun. All of my favorite BIG TUNES were playing from the trucks and the costumes...mannnnn I was in heaven! Some highlights include Tiffany's boyfriend in the Fauxberry pajama pants: NAKED TRINI MAN: This Tonton Macoute devil thing that scared the babies (and ME!): Me coming out as an Honorary Trini: And these most delicious men (and women) just standing around looking...well, delicious: We feasted on fried fish, jerk chicken, nutcrackers (LAWD!) and took in all the beauty of our Caribbean people:
AND THEN THEY STARTED SHOOTING. So we left.
Until my life was in danger, everything was cool. And I'd still consider joining a mas band next year. Why not? As we've done in the years following the September 11 attacks on the WTC, we can't let a few idiots kill our joy. This is a staple of Brooklyn's culture. I might just be back.
Shout out to these heffas:
They saved my life. Allegedly.
*smooches...really considering Miami Carnival in October* ---------- hopefully no one dies...
Last night I took Frick 'n Frack ice skating in Prospect Park; of course yours truly had no plans to get on the ice but I enjoyed watching the babies enjoy themselves.
On our way home the snow began to fall and all I could think about was WARM COUCH + NETFLIX so I put some pep in my step all the way to Minna Street.
Except, when we walked in, K informs me that the lights were out. As in NO ELECTRICITY. I struggled to come to terms with that for about 30 seconds because no one else in the house or on the block was in the dark, just us. So of course my first thought is: ConEd shut me down.
After months of regretting the purchase of my Blackberry, I found its purpose. I was able to go online and get a number for ConEd to call and curse them out for cutting my power without notice. As I'm gathering the information and K & N struggled to make our one measly flashlight work, it also dawned on me that:
1- I never received a phone call or letter with a "Final Shutdown" notice and 2- My account was not in arrears because ConEd is paid via my bank account automatically every month. As a daughter of the earth, I have paperless billing with all my utilities, and I'd already received the alert from BOA that payment was sent.
So the ConEd rep confirmed what I already knew- they hadn't done anything to my service; the problem was most likely internal. "Have your landlord check the fuse box," he suggested. Great. You mean the same landlord to whom I still owe the rent? Awesome. How was that going to look? "Hey I know I still owe you a heaping sum of money but can you check the fuse box for me? Thanks!"
But I needed electricity. I had perishable food I needed to save; babies who were kinda scared; and a newsletter I was supposed to be editing for work. I sucked it up, got the landlord and wouldn't you know it? The lights came back on ON THEIR OWN before he even came upstairs. Everything except the outlet where my computer was plugged into was operational again.
After it was all said and done (and I had a tiny conversation with my landlord in which he waved me off with a "don't worry, I understand, it's okay") I assessed that I am ill-prepared for emergencies. I mean, there's only so much one can do with a machete and birthday candles! We had no non-perishable/canned goods (I stopped buying them because of the sodium content), bottled water (I have a Brita pitcher- who needs bottled water?), extra batteries for my other flashlights (have you SEEN how much batteries cost these days?) emergency candles, a first-aid kit, extra blankets, a transistor radio (do they still make those?) nor a plan of action.
What kind of mother am I?
Then this morning K wakes up with the same tummy bug I had on Monday and again- I have no type of meds or foods to help her along. Of course Mami did not miss a beat in reminding me I should always have something in the house with which to make soup...YES, thank you for that after-the-fact advice. But who thinks like that? "Oh let me buy some celery, onions, vegetable stock, etc, in case I need to make soup." HUH? I never think there's a reason for me to make soup! If I want soup I BUY soup- see how that works? I want, I buy...except, I suppose in the middle of an emergency, like, say, a snowstorm when I can't get to a store and my kid needs soup...OH SHUT UP! I get it!
No, really, I get it.
I need to finally put batteries in the smoke detector. Or, you know, BUY a smoke detector. I need to buy one of those "ladders" they sell for people on upper floors to escape a fire via a window. I need at least 2 more fire extinguishers (I do have ONE in the kitchen; bought it when I started teaching N how to cook JUST IN CASE) and an entire trunk o' stuff for blackouts, snowstorms, floods, earthquakes, etc.
So do me a favor, all you cub scout graduates that know about this stuff- in the comments, please let me know what it is I need to have in my apartment in order to be ready for certain emergencies that would likely occur in Brooklyn/NYC. Or leave me a link to a site that has such a list. Because I'm great at many, many things, but apparently emergency preparedness is not one of them.
*smooches...kinda scared to turn any lights on right now* ---------- yeah I switched the lights off! Only thing on is the fridge & this here desktop. I'm SCARED, OK? I've never had to deal with this on my own before, HMPH!
Read my first published story, Grey Matter, at Blue Lake Review online.
Also, you asked for it so here it is: click below to buy my book, My Ego Likes the Compliments...And Other Musings on Writing, for just $10 plus $2.00 flat shipping rate to anywhere in the continental US.
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