Ain't This A Bitch

On this very day in 2005, I fled the city to get away from Hurricane Katrina. Now here it is, I may have to run from what will eventually be Hurricane Gustav once it enters the Gulf of Mexico. If New Orleans suffer another destruction, then I need to seriously reconsider staying the hell out of this city. I have a place where I will store my cd's, my tv, my dvd/cd player, and my keyboard. That way all I will have to bring with me are my clothes. I may bring my keyboard with me just in case I need to occupy my time should I be gone for an extended length of time. Mentally I don't feel like dealing with this shit. All I see is the devastation Katrina left and how everybody had to start over. I can see the mold in my old apartment as if it were yesterday, and I can see how badly damaged my friends and family houses were destroyed. All of my shit is probably still sitting in that abandoned complex that hasn't been demolished. It serves as an eyesore and a reminder everytime I pass by it. I truly hate this time of the year. Maybe a move to Virginia won't be so bad afterall.

My Weekend

This weekend, I drove to Mississippi to spend time with my grandmother. It was long overdue. When I went to sleep Friday night, I realized the last time I saw my grandmother was for my cousin Angie's funeral. That was a ruff period in my life. Angie was killed in a car accident shortly after the one year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I had just moved back into the city, there were still reminders of the destruction around, and then Angie's death. It was just one blow after another. I remember at her funeral I kept asking myself how will I be able to come here and not see her smile, or hear her witty jokes. Over the weekend, I realized that I stayed away from Mississippi because it was just too painful. It was the place I ran to escaping the storm. It was the place I was forced to live in because I was basically homeless. It was the place I travelled to and from work in New Orleans because I had no where to sleep in the city. It was the place where I felt like an outcast because so many people were criticizing people affected by Katrina. It was the place where my cousin was killed. It eventually became the place I stayed away from. But this weekend made me see just how much I still enjoy being with my family. Hopefully I will never stay away that long again.

This weekend, we also lost two icons. Isaac Hayes who was an icon in the music industry. He contributed so much to music. He was probably the epitome of soul music in the 70's. He brought a unique sound of strings and percussion to our ears that will forever reverberate in our lives. Isaac Hayes will be missed.

Another icon we lost suddenly was comedian Bernie Mac. His death really saddened me. It's been on my mind all weekend. Bernie Mac was one of the very few comedians who knew how to tell a joke. His smile alone made you smile with anticipation of what he would say next. You knew whatever he said, it was going to be funny. Bernie is now among the stars with another icon of comedy; the late, great Richard Pryor. I will really miss Bernie Mac. I will end this post with a quote of one of my favorite jokes from Bernie.

"But I'm gone tell you one muthafuckin thing. The next time I see that muthafucka, and he ain't got my muthafuckin money, I'm gone bust him in his muthafuckin head. And I'm out this muthafucka!!!"

Bernie Mac/ Original Kings of Comedy

Goodnight Uncle Bernie....

Not So Easy

My session today was a ruff one. For a moment, I forgot where I was, and found myself feeling as if I was being held captive in my bedroom all over again. I tried to shake it off and go to work, but I couldn't. I had fallen a little to deep in what happened. The conversation I elected to talk about took me there. I think I also became upset when my counselor impressed upon me the strong possibility that my mother may have been raped. I know about incidents between my mother, a few of her female siblings, and the men in and out of their lives. Sexual battery was clearly there, and the rape of her youngest sister at the age of twelve or thirteen was there. But my mother being raped was something I didn't have any evidence of. But my counselor thinks that because my mother have always told me that every man rapes a woman at least once in his life, then its likely she was raped as a child. I think that's why my mother down plays what happened to me. It's probably so common place in her life as a child, that it's just something a person should "get over." With that in mind, I definitely don't want to discuss what happened to me with her because it may prompt her to remember some things that she would rather forget. I don't want to put my mother through any of that if that is the case. I just have to learn how to respond to my mother in certain conversations, and make sure I don't obsess over any of her comments to me regarding counseling, marriage, and children. That one hour of counseling impacted me severely.