On Gaining Followers to become an Influencer

Look. It’s a numbers racket. I get it. If this were 1930’s Harlem, Instagram would be Stephanie St. Clair and Bumpy Johnson combined. I hate it. Its a fact of life though now whether I hate it or not, but here is what sparked this particular post.

All summer, specifically on Instagram, I have been getting an influx of followers. From restaurants to tour places to parks to even a few people.  When I see a follow, I never just follow back. I’ll go to their page, scroll down a bit and scan. If its something I am interested in then I’ll follow back, if not then I wont. Lately what has been happening more than anything… places follow, I follow back because I am interested and then I notice that they aren’t following me anymore. This irritates me for a few reasons.

1) In some ways I play the numbers game too, in that I don’t like or want a large disparity between following and followers, this waste space

2) My timeline is cluttered enough especially since the implementation of non sequential, I don’t need or want to follow all these extras

3) I feel as if following someone to get a follow, then un-following is right under paying for followers

Now I know what some of you are thinking, whats the problem? If you only follow back if you are interested, then they simply did a service of letting you know they were there. This is true, but I wouldn’t have known they were there and probably wouldn’t have followed if we weren’t all playing these numbers games.  Here is the things, while the pictures are pretty I really don’t need to see your world-famous hamburger every other day, guessing if its sunset or sundown in your city park, or seeing really pretty houses on a random street. What value is that adding to my timeline? I discovered long ago that I use social media for laughs. I follow A LOT of up and coming comedians and accounts that post funny videos. I need laughs in the virtual not harsh reality. I do follow some for beauty such as islands in the Caribbean and the rest of my timeline is a mix of people who I think say or do interesting things and people I know in real life. The last reminder I need is of places I can’t travel to, houses I can’t buy and food I cant afford. I follow to be polite if there even is such a thing as social media etiquette. But I hate looking up months or years later in some twitter cases and wondering who this person is. They will post something random and I’m like who are you? I have to first decipher if this person or place is indeed in my timeline or a sponsored post, then I go to their page, browse and wonder how and why I am following them.Click. Unfollow.

At the same time, I can’t really fault the places and people who do this. This number rackets can change your life in amazing ways. All of sudden you are an influencer with access to people and wealth you never dreamed of.  From smaller things such as having yoga pants gifted to you to test and review, to being invited to speak on panels and flown to do so. These perks even fall to gaining access  to new features that the masses cannot. For example, on Instagram, you cant post a link in your stories unless you have 10,000 followers. If that’s not an example of a reason to play the numbers racket I don’t know what is. It is literally ONLY based on your amount of followers. If I had the money I would pay for the 10K followers just to see if it allows me to have access to this feature. There are a lot of verified people on instagram and I dont know many or even the process. But it says something that holding verification isn’t the criteria for this feature…follower count is. So you see, numbers racket. Maybe I’ll play the game one day, maybe I wont, time will tell.

Keke, Do You Love Me?

One of the things I have taken to heart from one my favs is that if a man is interested in you, he will behave as such.  There is a man who is a “friend” that I have known for almost 20 years now. Friend is not in quotes because we had some type of situationship going on, rather my definition of the word friend is something that he does not qualify as. To keep it simple though I will refer to him as such.

I met him some time in the year 2000, the early internet days, on a MySpace like website for black folks. If you are old enough I’m sure you remember BlackPlanet. I was in college out-of-state at the time. He was just out. I can’t for the life of me remember what sparked our conversation but we eventually found out we didn’t live far from each other. We made plans to meet in person when I visited home for break. I barely remember yesterday y’all so bear with me as I sketch together 20 year bullet points of what I do remember.

  • I remember never going on a formal date
  • I remember going to his apartment to hang out only
  • I remember doing some adult things twice
  • I remember us never talking frequently but never losing contact
  • I remember about 10 years in, wondering why we never dated for real

It was just a random thought that popped in my head. I honestly never wanted to date him like that. It was just my ego wondering why on both sides. Why did I never want to date him? and him me? I couldn’t remember any details but why had he never taken me on a date? He never even approached me in that manner or tried. It also wasn’t just about sex. Why did he keep in contact? I keep in contact with no one. A byproduct of my extreme introversion. We never did adult things again after those first couple of times in that first year of knowing one another, so why was he still “keeping me around” so to speak.  We became good acquaintances I would say after that, nothing heavy. Once or twice a year mildly catching up through a call or an email.

This was our relationship for 17 years. In these past 17 years after that initial year. I remember seeing him about 3 more times.

  1. I remember him picking me up in his car and now that I’m typing this Im vaguely remembering we might have gone to get cookies once together? Or this picking up happened in that first year? Or the only other option is it happened for some reason I can’t remember in the first 7 years because 2007 is when I got my first car.
  2. I remember catching up with him in 2016. We met at a restaurant
  3. I remember going to a NYE party at his house this past year but we barely spoke 10 words as .. it was NYE & an extremely crowded house party

Then this year, something changed. He started contacting me more and more. At least once a week to once every other week. Sometimes a couple of times a week. Still very light conversation. How are you? How’s the job? During these texts he started saying that he wanted to come over and see my place. No problem I said open invitation, whenever you want. I have no life so it really was an open invitation as I’m always home. Was I going to out right call him and say hey want to come over this weekend? Absolutely not, just not my style. Besides, he was the one who wanted to come, I had no investment in this. This has been going on this entire year. Well finally this week, he came over.

Do you know in 18 years at this point, this week was the first time we had anything other than a pleasantries conversation? I found out about his parents, his siblings and even something as basic as what he does for work. We discovered our people went to the same college, different time periods. It was truly eye-opening. I thought about before how strange it was to have known someone for so long but not know anything about them. We drank some wine and had a nice conversation.

I cant remember what sparked this thread of praise but all of  sudden it was I love you (not romantically), I adore you, you are great, intellectual, people care about you so much (not true),  you post something and get like 10 likes in a few minutes (also not true) and the list goes on. It was a head trip. I just sat there asking him where was all of this coming from? He was tipsy at this point so I never quite got an answer to why. I told him we should have this conversation at a more appropriate time. I did see my in to finally  ask him why he never approached me in a dating manner and his exact words were “I didn’t think you would be interested in me. All your dudes were thugs” as he opens his arms wide and chops his right hand for emphasis “or squares” he says with his left hand on the opposite end.  Wow, I immediately recognize this to be true. Everyone I dated did sort of fall on that spectrum, but that was who approached me. Who made time for me and let it be known they liked me. I laughed and let it go, told him it was true and carried on. Not satisfied, but also realizing that about as straight as an answer I was going to get under these circumstances. If he were interested he would have done more wouldn’t he? This is all my ego though. I have reasons I can’t remember for not wanting to date him and definitely do not want to now.

I’m not that old but I have a sort of  Whoopi Goldberg approach. I don’t like anybody in my house. How am I going to have a relationship with anyone when I am way more comfortable by myself? At the same time I do want companionship. I don’t wish to be married again. I don’t even want a relationship but a companion would be nice. Someone I can go to dinner with to check out a restaurant I want to try.  Someone to go to a movie with at night. Someone I know has my back and I can list as an emergency contact. But they go home. To their house. I once met a woman who was married for over 22 years and her  and her husband lived separately. I think that is an ideal situation for me. I don’t know where his sudden declaration of agape love came from but I am looking for someone who genuinely feels the same as his drunk words spoke. So Keke, Do you love me?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* I’m willing to bet that now that the goal has been accomplished the texts will go back to being once or twice a year or the next heatwave. Including this for future reference, will update in a month

Who Would Serve A God Like That?

Not I said the brown cow!!!

Ever since I was little Christian church was forced upon, Baptist to be exact. Deep southern Baptist, later just Baptist, then later non denominational to now. I no longer go church and even it I did I am positive it wouldn’t be under a Jesus banner.

Old habits die. While I still find myself, catching myself in saying “In Jesus name” and the like, I simply can’t believe like I use to. I do believe there is something bigger than us out there, I do believe there is an omnipotent being out there who created this earth and us, and I’m just not sure who that is.  So I still “pray”, hold reverence for whom or whatever that is, but its not Jesus solely anymore. My prayers are universal. I pray to the Universe to Allah to The Man on the Moon, to whoever is up there but not to Jesus. Jesus doesn’t love, this I know. Jesus does not care about me. Like a bad relationship I am trying to let Jesus but its hard having only known him.

I guess I have made enough post to get to the nitty gritty of my life.  I do not have a relationship with my mother. I never have and never will. My mother is not well in the head. Has she been diagnosed with something? I don’t know. But has she been on some mental disability insurance since the age of 29? Yes. But since I don’t know what she claimed and while I know the reasons for the claim (rape) I have no clue as to if she was actually diagnosed with anything. But I know something is wrong. I can’t say what as my memory is limited.

For the first 7 years of my life I was not with my mother. From what I have been told and able to piece together, I was raised for the first 3 years of my life by both sets of grandparents (really grandmothers) then some molestation allegations happened on paternal side which were vehemently denied and even my maternal grandfather when he found out I had been told about all this (I didn’t know about all this until I was 20 years old) said nothing was wrong (Caveat, while I do believe this, subsequent post may include my thoughts on him being a liar as I now believe). These allegations led to my mother’s family keeping me away from my father’s side for the rest of my childhood.

Forgive me, this is largely straying. This is why I started this blog after many years of being told I should write my crazy story. Things tend to mesh and get jumbled in the sense cant tell one without the other. So I don’t think I could tell the story of what happened today without a little backstory, no matter how much that little is actually a lot.

My first memory of my mother is being drunk at some 20 something birthday party of hers. I was on a pink sofa and remember drinking something I thought was apple juice. I remember being really sleepy and then falling asleep amongst a sea of purses on that sofa. Subsequent pictures I saw who should Louis Vuitton and Gucci bags mid 80s surrounding me. Her first memory of me seems to be when I was 5. She came to give me presents for a birthday party. The most prized was a Louis Vuitton purse. It looked just like what I now know as Speedy bag but would be the size of my adult hand. I’m sure as a 5 year old it looked like a normal purse. I remember carrying that bag to children’s church every Sunday until I was a pre-teen when some forgotten argument snatched it back. It still made me no friends. I guess the kids didn’t know what it was, just like I didn’t until much later in life.

I have no memory of this being 5 years old but apparently I threw the purse back at her. For what reason has never been told to me? Was I crying? Was I upset about something? I have no idea. All I know is I threw the purse back at her. She tells everyone that story probably to this day. What I heard more than anything from her lips regarding this story is “Who throws back a Louis Vuitton purse and doesn’t want it”. Ummm a 5 year old who doesn’t even know what it is? Let me get back to today.

Today I received an extremely nasty call from my egg donor whom I haven’t spoken with in 2 years. 2 years ago a lot of drama happened. My grandfather died. Later post for another time. I saw her number on the call dial and answered for reason. I think I had forgotten I blocked her on my old phone.  Well not forgotten I blocked her, but just didn’t think about as I have put her and my brother out of my daily memory. I don’t know what it was. As I have said previously I don’t talk to anyone. So any time my phone rings is truly shocking and startlingly at the same time, more so the latter. It was her number. I think deep down I was hoping she was coming to her senses and giving me the inheritance left to me. I suspect because of something my brother said when I still speaking to him. But oh that was not it.

What I got was a cussin out, called everything but a child of God. This is over postal mail. Yes, you read that right…postal mail. She kicked me out of the only home I have known for my entire life when my grandfather died despite me owning a 1/3 share.  I became homeless. It was mess. This is the only address I have ever had on official documents. I haven’t changed credit-reporting agencies to this for that reason. Along with it still being a house a partially own. I have honestly blocked out her words already. What did stand out what her saying I was “messing with her”. She said how she told a cousin of ours how she knew I was messing with her but had the last laugh because she was still withholding money. This did two things. 1) Confirmed my suspicion of inheritance being withheld, but I have long let go as her being the executor and me having no money for legal investigation or ramification, figured I was never gonna see anyway and 2) that she is crazy. After trying to interject as soon as she mentioned mail and knew what was going on, she cut me off and said, “Let me finish” which I did but when she was done she hung up in my face. Knowing that she wouldn’t pick up I simply text her that I was not messing with her, showed her proof via text images of address change request and then told her I wish she gets the help she needs.  There is a lot more but too much to type for this post so where does God come in to play in this?

You see, during the years with my maternal grandmother, every Sunday was filled with going to her small Baptist church. My grandmother born and raised in a small town in the Florida Panhandle in the 1920s-30s had somehow found a tiny little Baptist church in Los Angeles where my grandparents migrated during the Great Migration. It had a two rows of about 15 pews each, a small stage and choir stand. Every image you can think of small black Baptist church was right here in Los Angeles. I spent Sundays there only. My mother was another demon of her own. When I went to live with her she too attended a Baptist church but it was larger and more modern. When we first started going there it was in the gym of high school having outgrown its small beginnings. It eventually grew to become non denominational along with being of the biggest mega churches in Southern California. Life was this church to my mother. We spend Sundays and other days in this church. She was very involved in the back scenes of the church. She knew everybody but never had a title I’m aware of. She posed as the loving Christian. Pious and Righteous. One Sunday, I brought my soon to husband to this church, whom she hated. She hated everyone I dated. But on this Sunday ohhh she fawned and cooed. She smiled and waved and acted like a good Christian woman should. That was when I finally saw the light. She was fake, a phony.

She has made my life miserable before and after that encounter and I will share I promise. I just can’t squeeze my whole life story in one simple post. The thing is she has always proclaimed victory over me because she said Jesus was on her side and no matter what she had done…she was right. She has always “won” over me. So how can I serve such a God who would allow such evil to flourish and win! “Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord” was always my hope as a teenager, now I know that’s not true. There is no hope when it comes to her doing the right thing and me receiving what I was promised.  How can I serve a God who would allow such things? I struggle with my faith because of all this. I know something is out there; I’m just not sure who. For now I just live my life day to day. I do my best to pretty good success to move on from the past and try to plan for the future but try not to stress on it. I live for today. Take it one day at a time. As an old friend of mine use to tell me, How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

 

Who Remembers You?

“You live only as long as the last person who remembers you” A quote from the latest season of Westworld got me thinking again about who will remember me? I don’t think people remember me now.

I think this insecurity started in the middle of college. At my age I have still not quite learned to not internalize things people say and do to me. I have gotten much better than I used to me but I am still a work in progress.

A couple of years (2 to be exact) after high school I ran into a girl who I was more than acquaintances with but not friends. At lunchtime she sat in her crew of 3 across from my crew of 4 to 5. They often would come over at least 2 times a week and join us and if not there was friendly banter back and forth during the week. Our school was very small. By graduation there were 85 of us in the class. This was back pre millennium. At the time of this writing in 2018, a current website list the total student population at 258. That is normally the size of a one grade at other schools.

So here we are 2 years after high school and I minding my business going to a convenient store. I went to school out of state so this had to be the summer time or Christmas break. 2 full years after high school graduation or even worse 1 year and 6 months. As I’m getting out of my car and walking across the parking lot to the store I see a woman already on the sidewalk about to go into the store. I think its one of the girls from the crew that used to sit across from us. Her head is turned towards the store so I can’t be sure. Lets call her Megan. “Megan!?” I asked with a question, as I can’t believe I would randomly run into her in this neighborhood, no one lives over here except me. She slowly turns and says, “Yes”. Now at this point, realizing it WAS her but before noticing her lack of memory “OMG it is you how are you?” When I tell you her look after this cannot be put into words. If I could describe it would be similar, but worse, to a stereotype you see in a movie. A rich man gets out of his Porsche on the way to some store on Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills, CA. As he crosses the sidewalk a homeless man walks up to him asking for change. The homeless man smells and he is filthy, with dirt matted in his beard. You can see his crusted over feet through the shoes that have no tops.  The rich man disgusted gives him a look like how dare this man even come up to me and says as much to the homeless man. He then tells him he is not giving him anything for being a lazy member of society and then spits on him. He takes out a handkerchief and gentle wipes his mouth, puts it back in the pocket of his suit and continues on into the store. That is how she looked at me.

She started backing up as if I were that homeless man and then says with the same look of disgust on her face “Do I know you?” I didn’t respond for a good 10 seconds as shock washed over me. Know me?  You ate lunch with me twice a week a mere few years ago. Do I know you? After recovering I said, “Umm we went to high school together”. Her look fades a little but not by much, she says “sorry I don’t remember” and walks away. Huh? Call me flabbergasted and painted over. In such a tiny school, how do you not remember someone you ate lunch with frequently? Now I am not saying I remember the other 84 people in my class but I probably remember at least 75 of them, I’m sure there are few I have forgotten but I certainly hadn’t forgotten 2 years later! Even later around 2009 when I first joined Facebook. I found it funny that people I barely spoke to in high school requested me as friends*, but people that I hung out with on occasion in school and outside of school seemed to have no memory of me.

Now I know what you are thinking maybe she was having a bad day and didn’t want to be bothered. Maybe she really didn’t remember you. Maybe you did something to her. All are valid. I doubt I did something to her, as I have always been rather timid. The bad day is possible as is not remembering me but it was the look she gave me I will never forget. I have never had someone before or since look at me with such a look of disgust. I will never forget it.

This encounter isn’t the only that has led me to questioning others memories of me.  There is my dad’s side of the family whom I didn’t grow up around. When I was between the ages of 19-23 (rough estimate) there use to be a lot of parties and family get together’s. I always felt out of place.  In the beginning it was ok, I was reintroduced, it was a lot of I haven’t seen you since (insert some time in childhood) and at least pleasantries like hello. Then something flipped. When I went around I would say hello but it seemed as if people didn’t know who I was or why I was there. They said hello back but it was with the same questioning in their tone as the girl from high school.

Now I question everybody. I never assume anyone will remember me, family or not. There are exes I am sure don’t remember me, family, friends, students, a whole slew of people. I tend to play things like so nowadays. “Hello, how are you”?  Striking up a small conversation.  I give no indication that I remember that person; I am simply a stranger making small talk. If they remember me, wonderful, gives the conversation somewhere else to flow. If not, then I move on. Going back to family greatness, its not as if I have done anything spectacular worthy of remembering so I suppose in some regards I’m ok with not being remembered, but for the most part I am not. Not in a “want to be known” kind of way but more so what impact have a made on someone or lack thereof where after I am long gone they will remember (or wont) who I am. I have no children. The people I encounter will be my legacy, who else is going to remember?

If I am only alive as long as the last person who remembers me and I cannot get people I share DNA with and at lunch with weekly to remember me, how is that going to fare after I am dead?

 

How do you get your memory to stay alive?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*As Facebook rule that has carried over from this incident with the girl. I do not add people on FB. Everyone has added me. I don’t take rejection well. It really hurts so I make it a point to simply remove it from my life in little and big things, where can be helped.

 

 

 

Venice, California

Friends. Do you have friends? I know this may seem a strange question but I mean do you have people you can call to hang out with? I don’t and reflecting back..never have.

Today I went to Venice, California and went to a food truck event they hold on the first friday of every month. It was not a very pleasant experience but that is not what this topic is about. I went alone as I do every place and I mean EVERY place.  I didn’t see another person that was in line ordering alone like I. You see I have no friends and never really have. As far back as I can remember I have always had only had one friend at time and digging even further Im not really sure those people were my friends but moreso just childhood acquaintances.

To what I can remember, in Kindergarten there was Dana, in 2nd grade there was Emily, in 3rd-5  grade there was Dawn, in 6th and 7th there was Grace, 8th grade was Alexis, High-school was Jasmine and college (two separate colleges) there was Amina and Megan. After college I sort of went back to Jasmine of high-school but cut her off. She was my last and only friend. I ghosted on her (and she me for reasons unknown) but I did because I finally came to the conclusion she lied about many silly things and I couldnt figure out why, and one other reason was every time I asked to go somewhere she NEVER came. There was always something, she was married and with a child  but NEVER? You can NEVER go anywhere with me in YEARS. The child was a teen.

Its times like today I wish I had a friend to call up to simply go exploring food trucks with me. Its one of the reasons I decided to start this blog because one on hand I cant imagine anyone has a similar experience of have no friends or family to call to something as simply as a food outing, and on the other hand I think, there must be SOMEONE out there like me? I wish I had someone to call up for little outings.I think as evidenced by my one at a time friendships I have never been good at making friends. So how do you make friends mid-30s? Especially when it mortifies you to even look someone in the eye. Let me know in the comments if you can.

 

 

 

*names changed

 

Family Greatness

There is a popular blogger turned author turned expert, etc etc. who I follow on Instagram. She is very successful and randomly posted a clip of a new TV show.  The caption said to be sure to watch her cousin who acting in a new TV show. She made sure to mention is was her real cousin, not a play cousin, blood and DNA cousin. It made me think of her, her parents who she describes as one being in the political scene with a lot of connections, her and now her cousin. All achieving great success in their fields to money and power in their respective fields. I don’t think this is happenstance. This is Family Greatness.

I first noticed this phenomena that for these purposes I’ll call “Family Greatness” while watching the television show “Finding Your Roots” on PBS with Dr. Gates. It seems as if every person had someone in their family who did something great, they had some extraordinary story that simply made me say, wow.  I will not say all but I honestly cannot remember one that didn’t. Now I will state the obvious that because this was TV they could have chosen guest based on their genealogical story. However that doesn’t seem to be the case as I found that people were chosen based on admiration. I cant imagine producers going through all that research, finding nothing extraordinary and saying well we will choose someone else. Genealogy research is a LOT of work. Trust me I know as someone who has been searching for 8 years now and still haven’t even hit the slave wall on 5 out of 8 people in the generation that was born in the last of slavery. So while the scenario of choosing people based on what turned up in their genealogy is a possibility, its not plausible.

This leads me to what I am referring to Family Greatness, which I define as when a family throughout the generations has people who are capable of and achieve great personal success.  It seems to be in very DNA of this family that multiple people will achieve great success and be remembered. First, we have the people whose genealogy is being traced. They are politicians, journalist, actors, musicians, all the people we actually value in society and show them as much with the amounts of money they make. For clarity, I am speaking more about African American guest who history often but not always included slavery. Even being enslaved their families did great things. They led a revolt, killed a master, started a school or bank for free blacks, sued a white man in court (unheard of at the time), bought their own freedom, the first African American to do this or that  and in some cases turned out were never enslaved! I do not find it a coincidence that all of these people who have achieved fame and notoriety in today’s age had family members who did something great. I think its awesome and there is something to be said for that. It made me think of my own family.

In my own genealogy search I found nothing of the sort. It seems my family is one mediocrity. I reflected on this thinking of my parents. Both of my parents are in their mid 50s and neither of them works. My mother thinks she has earned the right to not work because in her words “I worked since I was 15”. What she doesn’t end the sentence with is that she stopped working at the age of 29. That was the last time she had a job. She has been living off of disability insurance ever since. With the passing of my grandfather she now leads an even more cushy life, being left 2 properties and “hundred of thousands in cash”. My father also doesn’t work but his is more recent. I don’t know the exact dates but somewhere in the last 5-8 years he injured his back. This took him out of the job he had for a while as a truck driver, but then he became able to work again and says he cant find anything. Not exactly stellar examples of something to look up to but up until 2 years ago I was constantly maligned by my mother for still living with my grandfather at the age of 33. I was in graduate school. Save for a few years I was in college, in my first grad program, I have worked since I was 16 years old and was cut off financial because of the death of my grandmother. This all brings me back to Family Greatness.

I also do not find it a coincidence or shocking given my most recent family history that no one in my far past achieved anything great. There seems to be a special something in the blood of certain families that just says they have the smarts, fortitude and ability to achieve success, while other families, simply do not. I wonder who was the first person in those families that changed the trajectory for generations to come.  What made them do something that others though impossible? While other families like mine just lazed on by and accept the status quo. Do I say all this to say something negative about those families, absolutely not! There is a twinge of jealousy, but mostly pride and wondering why I was chosen into these families. I will never know the answer but I secretly hope that someway before I die, I can be that first person.

 

 

 

*For thoroughness I will say I have one cousin I would consider successful, she has lots of money but I have no clue of the circumstances or how “far” the money goes.

Independence Day – 4th of July

Happy??? 4th of July… I don’t know.  4th of July is my favorite holiday , well was, well is? Let me explain. I love fireworks and 4th of July is the only holiday that has fireworks.  Since I was a teenager I have always had this vision of being with my man and friends. In this dream, my friends and boo at  a park or the beach. There is lots of bbq, good food, good music, we are having a good time, we stay all day till the fireworks, then go home happy. The similar scenario I have is its just me and my man. We have a little picnic basket and have a little picnic in a park , just the two of us in love, watching the fireworks, we kiss and go home happy.  Well in over 20 years neither of these have ever happened to me. I have no friends or man. I haven’t even been to a fireworks show since I was a teenager.

No, my 4th of July’s in the past have consisted of me drinking, smoking and cooking food and attempting grilling on one of those tiny grills. It came up to my ankles. Even when I was married we never spent one 4th of July together. In the past fews years I even lost the ability to do my little grilling as I was in a house before and am now in an apartment and cant. I realize this year that was sort of the last straw for me that deflated everything. I no longer have that vision of a time with friends and fireworks and I cant even pretend anymore with no smell of charcoal blowing through my nose as I get burned by the sun. I don’t even get full sun in this north/south facing apartment. Its a drag. Even more depressing I cant even look out my window like the past 2 4th’s because of flood lights installed after I was robbed and I got punished by being the ONLY apartment in the building that got a flood light installed that points directly at the bedroom window. Lucky me.

I am debating going to a fireworks show tonight like I do every year and then never go but hey it may happen.  I doubt it though. My face has broken out in some awful acne that I have never even seen before. My hair is a mess after an attempt at cornrows with hair included did not come out right. I have a bottle of Rose’ which I tried recently for the first time after all the hype. I will probably drink that and watch Love Is. I started this post going to write about why I don’t watch relationship shows and shows based on love. I was only giving this show a watch because I needed to clear my DVR and every week it comes up in my tailored trends on twitter. But after this first episode I kind of like it, so Im going to go look for the other 2 episodes I missed and called it a day. I might still go. In the meantime I hope your 4th of July is filled with family and friends or solitude if thats what you choose. Whatever makes you happy