Homeless. Gypsy Woman.

Most of you are familiar with the Crystal Waters tune from 1991 called Gypsy Woman in which she sang about a homeless woman against a thumping house beat. Well, I was literally a gypsy woman a few years ago and was officially homeless for about two months. Below is a recount of how that unfolded and how I found redemption.

In the fall of 1998, I was tired of struggling and barely getting by. My son at that time was 4 years old and I was a single mother. My son's father wasn't contributing that much financially due to his recent arrest for selling drugs, so it was all on me to provide for the welfare of our child. I was making about $7.00 at that time and living in Florida where I was in an area known as Safety Harbor near Clearwater. I was paying about $550 per month rent for a two bedroom apartment and about $95 per week for daycare. In addition, I also had a car note, car insurance, utility bills, etc. etc. and with my wage, it was hard to make ends meet with no additional contributions.

So I came up with this brilliant idea to move to Atlanta. A friend of mine's sister lived there was needing a secretary for her up and coming business and was willing to pay me $11 per hour. Thinking I was on a come up, I gave a 30 day notice to my apartment building and gave notice to my employer, and began selling off my furniture because I was going to start fresh in Atlanta. I cashed in my 401k at the company I was working in and made the necessary plans to move.

My dad agreed to let my son stay with him in St. Louis for a few months until the Christmas holiday while I was in transition. The plan was after I got settled, I would fly back to St. Louis to retrieve my son. The day before I was due to leave, a series of events happened. My 401k was deposited in my bank account, but my account was levied because I owed past due taxes. The IRS took everything in the account so I had no money to move. My last paycheck was also deposited in my account and that was taken too.

I was going to need a few weeks to hustle up some more money before my move but I was told by employer that they had already hired someone to take my place and they were starting that next Monday. I then called my new employer in Atlanta and told her it would be a few weeks until I would have the money to move and she then told me not to even bother coming because she needed someone like yesterday and was going to hire someone else if I didn't get there ASAP. I had already sold all of my furniture and had to leave my apartment at the end of the weekend because my complex had rented it out.

The only good thing at this time was that my son was already in St. Louis so I didn't have to worry about him. My Aunt had flew in from St. Louis for my father and she and my son flew back.

I had only $100.00 to my name.

I was too embarrassed to tell anyone I didn't have any money or nowhere to go. 

My mother and I weren't talking at this time because I called her out on her shit with her drug abuse. My best friend and I weren't talking because she owed me money and didn't want to pay me. When it came to Florida, I didn't have many friends left. That was one of the many reasons why I wanted to leave. The "friend" who's sister I was going to work for in Atlanta stopped taking my phone calls. I had no one.

I called my dad about the job offer falling through but I didn't have the nerve to tell him I was broke. He was taking care of my son and helping me out, so I didn't want to ask for even more when he was doing so much for me already.

So I took what possessions I had and loaded it in my Neon and basically began living out of my car. I found a job working through a temp agency and began working right away as a receptionist. I worked during the day, slept in the car at night, usually in a Denny's parking lot. And in the wee hours in the morning before the sunlight came up, I would wash up in the Denny's bathroom or a hotel lobby bathroom which was next door and get dressed. No one at work knew I was homeless. I dressed well. Hair was done. Make-up applied. I didn't smell. No one was the wiser.

This was such a scary time. I had a cell phone (PrimeCo) that I was able to keep during this unfortunate event, so I would talk on the phone to mere acquaintances to keep myself awake at night. When I couldn't fight the sleep anymore, I would make sure the doors were locked, turn on the radio, and get in the backseat and let the music lull me to sleep. Every car that passed, every person that walked by, I woke up and acted like everything was normal. It was so hard putting on this act day in and day out. But I did it. And I did it well.

It was November and December in Florida and although it didn't get really cold, there were nights that I would turn my car on in intervals and run the heat so I wouldn't freeze. I missed all of my favorite shows without a television. I had no idea what was going on in the world or the news until I got to work each day. I was living a double life.

On the weekends, on the Friday I got paid each week, I stayed in a hotel where I enjoyed sleeping in a real bed and taking a real shower. It was like heaven to me.

Towards the end of December, right before Christmas, I saved up enough money for a small one bedroom apartment in St. Petersburg. I was elated even though it was nothing like the apartment I had before. At least I had a roof over my head and I would have heat and a shower, and a kitchen to fix meals.

Every time now that I get down, I think of this time in my life. I think of the pride that I had during this time and the fact that that pride, that inability to ask for help resulted in me sleeping in my car every night. 

I am so thankful God watched over me during that time and that nothing bad happened to me. I was also thankful that I was able to get out of that situation quickly. I never want to go back to living like that again.

2008. Yeah.

As the year is about to wind down come to an end, most people begin to sit back and reflect on the past year's events; the hits and misses, the mistakes, the pains, the joys, the highs, the lows, and ultimately, what could've been better in retrospect. 

All-in-all, I can say that while 2008 had its challenging moments for me, I am very blessed and I am happy with what the year had to offer overall. I met some new friends whom I hope to have in my life for a very long time. I bonded with my mother and repaired our damaged relationship. I helped my family in many ways both emotionally as well as financially. I bought a new home. I found my niche in the corporate world. And I gained a new perspective about life and became closer to God. What more can you ask for?

I am not one for resolutions. For one, each year that I made a resolution, I've always broken them within a week or two. So I am going to follow in last year's footsteps and not make any resolutions this for next year as well. But I do have a few goals that I've set for myself:

• Get my non-profit off the ground and invest in my own business endeavor
• Get in shape. Work out on a regular basis. I have fallen off the last few months
• Establish better eating habits. Less dining out and cut out the sodas (oh how I love 'em)
• Finalize the revisions and edits of my novel and get it published this year, by May 1st
• Less television. More ME time
• Work on my son's website and help him establish his acting career
• Be more frugal when it comes to spending but not lose the sponteneity
• Continue to cultivate my blog and launch my personal website and vlog.
• Finally go to NEW YORK CITY!

That is just a snapshot of the goals that I have set forth this year. As I accomplish these goals, I am going to refer back to this post and check-mark the goal I have completed off of the list. 

What are some of the things you want to accomplish in the upcoming year? I would love to hear your goals, resolutions, hopes and dreams for the new year. Please comment and let me know what you are thinking about in terms of self improvement in the upcoming year.

Giving. Pride. & All That Comes With It.

This post will not only be about the season but also about being there for friends in need. As you know, my blog consists solely on my experiences, present and past, and I not only find solace and relief in writing and receiving feedback from my readers, but keeping it real and communicating my ideas, thoughts, processes, etc.

I have a homie, a very close friend whom I have been kicking it with for a minute. This person is first and foremost a dear friend of mine and also someone who I have a romantic link to. I have even blogged about him a few times so you guys are well aware of who he is and where he stands in my life. Anyway, he and I spoke on Tuesday and I asked him what he had for lunch and he told me he hadn't eaten a thing. I asked him why not. And he himm'd and haw'd and then said he didn't have any money for lunch. I was like whoa, no money? That's not like him to not be holding anything. And then he told me that he had some issues with the bank because of electronic debits and whatnot and he was informed by the bank via text message earlier that day that he currently had a negative balance. And the kicker was he had just been paid but because his balance was in the red, most of his check went to fees and the rest went to bills and whatnot. He only gets paid once a month.

I paused because first of all, I have been there in the past and know what is like to not have anything. I was waiting for him to ask to borrow some money. I wasn't going to just offer it up like that. He and I have spoken of being prideful in the past--he accused me of showing too much pride during numerous exchanges he and I had. So I wanted to call the kettle black and see if he was also had a pride issue. We continued the conversation and he didn't ask me to borrow anything. We ended the phone call and he told me to call him later that night, which I did and he didn't answer.

I called him on Wednesday and he didn't answer as well. I left a message. I began to feel something fishy was going on because we talk like everyday. I was wondering if he wasn't calling me because I didn't offer to let him borrow the money. That feeling nagged me all through Thursday and the beginning of today.

So I was thrilled when I received a message on Myspace from him. He said his celly had been cut off due to non-payment but that he could receive incoming calls and he has been waiting on me to call. I picked up my cell and called him and then I got a recording that said that the customer I dialed was not available.

Complete disconnect.

So I found an old e-mail with his work number and tried to reach him there and got his voicemail. I told him to call me.

He called a few hours later and I didn't beat around the bush. I knew times were hard for him and now he didn't have his wireless access. I offered to wire him some money, enough to get him through a few days. If he needed more in the future, we would discuss it. He changed the subject for awhile and we caught up, but I went back to discussing the money because he was being prideful. I wanted him to accept it. I also told him that he was always talking to me about my pride but he also had some issues with that.

He then got off of his high horse and told me he needed the money. And he was thankful and grateful that I would come through for him like that.

I have talked about this before and discussed this with NightFall914, in that I am giver 300%. I have always been like that and I give way more than I receive. But that is not the point for me. I enjoy giving, enjoy helping others, even if the roles were reversed, they probably wouldn't help me. I don't give because I want reprosity. I give because I want to. Because I need to. And if you have it available, why not?

During this season and time of year, we get all doped up on Christmas gifts and wanting and salivating over materialistic items. And yes, I am part of that group as well. But it is better to give than receive and I work at that everyday, not only during this time of year, but 365. There is no one on this planet that can say I am not a giver and not true to my word when I do offer help.

We can also use an angel at some point in our lives. Today, I was that angel, I put a band-aid on it and I kissed the boo-boo. Halo please!

Cocaine. Binges. Pack-up. Move.

I have been having the same dream ever since I was 14 years old. I run into the street covered in blood screaming for someone to help me. I yell at the top of my lungs as loud as I can pleading for someone to hear me and they never do. I can hear the quiet of the night, the dogs in the neighborhood barking, the crickets chirping, the wind whistling in the late night Arizona skies. I look behind me and I can feel his presence and before I know it, he slams me to the ground and gets on top of me. Before I am able to move, he covers my mouth and I feel the harshness of suffocation.

I usually awake from the nightmare at this point screaming out loud and in a cold sweat. I never really get to the point where he kills me; I don't think the channels in my mind or my thought process would allow it. In my mind I am a fighter, I am chosen to live. And therefore, in this instance, my life cannot be taken away from me.

This dream stems from a real-life event that happened in February of 1990. My mother and I were staying in an apartment home in Phoenix, Arizona while my father was working in Memphis, Tennessee on a contract. We had been separated for several months and due to this, my mother (and I later found out my father) were having affairs and living separate lives. I of course was immersed in my life of being a Freshman and wasn't really paying attention to the obvious decline of my parent's marriage.

Anyway, on this young February night, my mother had a guest over. I don't remember his name but he was this smooth looking chocolate colored cat from the other side of town. Anyway, my mother was in the living room entertaining this dude and I was in my bedroom trying to block it out, doing what 14 year old girls do at that time, like talking on the phone, watching videos and reading magazines. Doing my nails. All of that shit. I don't think I paid much attention to my mom's guest. I wasn't stupid. I knew her game. But I wanted her to be happy so I played along knowing if my dad knew about this set-up, he would be more than 38-hot.

I remember going to bed around 11 that night. I was all geeked up about this Valentine's Day dance that was coming up at high school. This smooth dude asked me to go to the dance and I was all happy and stuff, plotting in my mind what I would wear and how I was going to do my hair. All of that young puppy love type ish.

I remember hearing this blood curdling scream and it awoke me from my peaceful slumber. It was something out of the movie Psycho, only it wasn't a flick. It was my mom's voice. I jumped up out of my bed and ran to the living room and all I could see in the darkness with the moonlight streaming through the window was blood on the wall and my mother laying on the floor. The dude looked at me and then ran out the door leaving it wide open. I got enough courage to go and close the door and lock it and then tended to my mother who was holding her right eye. He had punched her with so much force in her eye that it was nearly hanging out the socket.

I called 911. Then called my mom's best friend Tanya because I didn't know what to do. My mom was crying and in so much pain. She couldn't even talk. I remember getting a towel for her to hold her eye and soak the blood. I was scared but I wasn't crying. I was like a robot, a programmed soldier. The police came in like 10 minutes and my mom's best friend came in right behind them. They took a report and my mother was sent off to Thunderbird Hospital in Glendale.

I stayed with Tanya at the apartment, and the next day, a plain clothes policeman followed me and watched me while I stood at the bus stop, just in case this idiot of a man tried to come back and do something to me. My mom was in the hospital for a week and they performed two surgeries on her eye. My father was told about the incident and immediately flew to Arizona where I was told he was looking for ole boy, although I never saw him when he came. The whole thing was a blur.

Then I was told we had to move. Out of state. Back to Memphis where my dad was. And if you know anything about me or have read my blogs before, this was a pattern that still affects me to this day.

I was so strong that day for my mom and I. I felt like that was when the roles reversed. It was like from that day forward, I became the mom and she became the daughter. And at 14, that was a lot of pressure. I hated leaving my friends. My school. The constant day-to-day of life. But I knew that in order for my parents marriage to work, we needed to all be together in one house under one roof. I had to give up my peace to save my family.

This whole thing happened because my mom and this guy were on a cocaine binge. My mother always smoked pot and had recently got into "harder" stuff like blow and speed. I think old boy may have been doing crack while in the apartment. And I don't know if he clicked or what but he hit my moms, almost destroying her face, and he was never caught. My mom and I haven't talked about this incident since it happened, and this is the first time I have really talked about it in depth.

But every once in awhile, I have that dream and I am face-to-face with him and he kills me. But in real life I got away. And in real life, I am a true survivor.

I Am His Mama

I get this all the time. Actually my son does. I have a son who is 14 (he will be 15 in April) and when we are together, be it in the mall or the store, or anywhere, people think we are brother and sister. Then he will say "MOM" and everyone looks at me like I have the plague. And I am like yep, that's my boy.

Long story short, I had my son when I was 18. Actually, I got pregnant when I was 17. I graduated high school when I was 16 because I went up a grade when I was 7 and my b-day is Sept. 3rd so I started school when I was 4 and was a year younger than most of the people in school. I grew up fast. Only child, daddy's little girl, spoiled rotten. My parents' marriage began to deteriorate when I was about 16 and I met Antonio (my baby daddy--hate that term) at a party. He was 20 and fine and had a nice car and his own place and I thought I was grown. We started dating and after a year I became pregnant with my son. Thought about abortion but in the end, I knew I was going to keep the baby. Antonio and I tried to work it out but 4 years and several black eyes and countless bruises later, I left his sorry ass.

It wasn't easy being a single mother. I was working a full-time gig, putting myself through college, and trying to be a mother and a father all on my own. Antonio wasn't around much, he was too busy out in the streets. But me and my shorty were good. He never wanted for anything. We never wanted for anything. We always had a roof over our head (although we were homeless for a minute, more on that in another blog entry) and I always had a car. Times was rough though. I can remember making a big pot of spaghetti on a Monday night and eating that ish every night that week. But we survived. Two degrees and a marriage later and we are doing VERY well. My son is now a Freshman in high school and I also have a 4 year old daughter from my ex husband (not Antonio mind you).

I see young mothers all of the time and I remember that pain, that burden that they have to carry. I am 33 now and the realization that I have a 14 year old is odd, but I am so thankful and glad that I had him. I am hoping that these single mothers get through the pain like I did. I never thought I would be able to see the forest for the trees back then and now I am chopping a tree down everytime I see an obstacle with no problems.

Life is good, yo.

If you know a single mother struggling, let her know she can do it. Let her know that even through darkness, light will follow. I held onto my dreams when I didn't have a penny to my name. And now I can do anything...

...and I am HIS mama. I am very proud. And blessed.

Just Because

...man I am so happy. Elated! I can't even begin to tell you why. Nothing extraordinary has happened to me or my family. I am still not a millionaire and my foot is still sprained. But I am just so happy and full of joy today. I just wanted to share that with you. I always live by the knowledge that with life, you can improve, you can change, you can make the next day better than the last one. With such limited time on earth, we need to learn and understand and appreciate what we have, the gifts that are given to us, and the people that are in our lives. I try to do that each and every day, and sometimes I fail. But I am truly grateful for all that He has given us.

Last Sunday, I had such a moving spiritual experience. I visited a friend's church and was amazed at the Word that was presented that evening. It has given me a renewed since of spirit and purpose. It is in me that He lives, and with that, I intend to do great things. Hopefully this post will inspire you. Not because I emit such wisdom, but because I am sharing my unabashed joy with you. You don't know me (well some of you don't) and I don't know you (some of you). But I can be a catalyst for change in you, just like last Sunday was a catalyst for change in me.

Carpe diem :P

Obama 2004- Before He Was President Elect...

Wow. I am home. On a Friday night. Watching the Bio channel and low and behold, the Obama Biography special came on and I've been trying to peep it for the longest! God is good! I am just chillin' watching Barack from birth to State Senate, and it gets to the part where he was chosen by John Kerry and the Democratic National Committee to be the Keynote Speaker during the Convention in 2004. All I can say is WOW! For all those naysayers (and you know who you are...) how could you think that a man with such eloquence, such power, such passion not win the highest office in the land?

Peep game yourself. OBAMA NATION. No doubt....