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The Art of Story Telling: The J Dilla Box Set

12 Dec

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I’m clearly not in the mood to do any work today so I am going to do what I do best: write.

These last few months have been nothing short of a dream. I remember back when I was dealing with “The Friend” and the other band of losers that paraded through my life in 2010, I never thought I could do any better.  I distinctly remember the despair of feeling like I would never know what it was like to be loved by a man, for real for real.  The longer J and I have been together the better it gets.  I know I have sung his praises before, but this man gets me y’all.  This was evident in an incident that will forever be known as “The Dilla Box Set Day” (ooooh so original!).  Anyone who knows me, knows I love my beatmakers and producers, especially J Dilla.  When I saw the Dilla Boxed set (which I have been waiting for since that Snap Judgement episode) I simply shared it on my FB newsfeed and my mom expressed interest in purchasing it for me as a gift.  A few days later while J and were sitting around he asked if my mom checks her FB messages.  I didn’t think of it, and I put the conversation out of my head.  Fast forward after Thanksgiving, there are two boxes on the porch which is not a big deal because if Amazon Prime was a religion we would be the pastor and first lady of the Church of Amazon.  I recognized the first box came from Amazon, but the second I didn’t recognize.  I looked at the address and noticed it said it was from “J Dilla, King of Beats” and the package came from Detroit.  This is how oblivious I can be: I didn’t care about what could have possibly been in the box, all I wanted was the shipping label because it had Dilla’s name on it.  I texted J and told him he had a package and where it came from.  Even though he too, is a Dilla fan I could feel in my spirit whatever was in that box was for me.  I circled the box like a shark in the water until J got home.  I tried to carry on a conversation but it was KILLING me, because I needed to know what was in that box!  So after small talk, J announces that yes, the box is indeed for me.  In about 3 seconds I mentally went through all of the possibilities as to what it could be.  The “DC Loves Dilla” shirt I wanted so bad? Maybe a Dilla coffee mug (I love coffee mugs)?  You know what wasn’t on my list of possibilities? The boxed set.  As I cracked open the box, my heart nearly stopped when I caught the first glance of a box that was an exact replica of Dilla’s SP-1200.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I removed each vinyl and ran my hands over the certificate of authenticity.  That man knows me y’all.  My friend Cookie made my eyes sweat a little when she expressed her happiness over seeing her friends being loved.  I immediately thought about an interview Drake did years ago where he talked about his mom.  I remember him saying that “she’s never been loved properly” and I just knew that would be my story.  J may not be perfect, but when it comes to me he always goes above and beyond.  This morning he was up with the chickens to make sure I had the new MF Doom Wallabees and is going to start taking The Boy to daycare so he can get the extra sleep he needs.  There is not a day that goes by that I don’t remember how fortunate I am to have a relationship that is easy and I am not in any type of distress and turmoil.

My friends and family probably think I have fallen off the map, I haven’t.  I have been studying for my PMP certification and it’s not the easiest thing.  I don’t have a lot of PM experience so I have to use a lot of resources beyond the online course.  The course is self paced and I have a year to complete it.   There are a lot of days I really don’t feel like being bothered, but I know this is necessary for the next step in my career.

That’s all I have for now, I got my WordPress app back on track so I will be posting a little more. Peace.

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The Art of Storytelling: The Time I Almost Died in a Credit Union Parking Lot

11 Oct

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Ahhhh….the story I reference the most on this blog but have never told.  Gather ’round hustlers…….

Picture it, August 2005.  I was a carefree 25 year old, doing regular 25 year old shit, like staying out until the sun came up and dating fuck boys that drove white Dodge Magnums.  I was generally an all around healthy person and my periods were always regular and normal (put a pin in that).  So in late August/early July I started getting these gas like pains in my stomach.  They were also a little crampy at times but I didn’t think anything of it because I had been spotting for an entire month.  The fact I was spotting went completely over my head because I had just started using a little something called the Orthra Evra Patch.  You know I am all for easy birth control so this was super easy.  One week the pain got worse.  Because I had a really poor diet I thought it was just gas from all of the crap I was eating.  I didn’t want to go to the ER because in healthcare we laugh at those who get all dramatic about stomach pain and all they have is gas.

On August 13th I went to work as usual, but by this point the “gas” pain was so bad that it hurt to even stand up straight.  I still kept on working, and I figured since I was getting off early that day I would go home and get some rest.  I got off at 2 and headed to the credit union so I could get a money order for an apartment I was trying to rent.  Everything was fine until I got out of the car.  I immediately felt like I was going to pass out and something strange happened to my vision.  The world looked like I was looking at it through a paper towel roll, if that makes any sense.  As I stumbled to the door of the credit union unable to catch my breath, I sat down in one of the chairs and tried to compose myself.  What the hell was happening to me?  Maybe it was the heat.  I hadn’t been drinking enough water.  Maybe I was just dehydrated.  I got some of my strength back and headed to the counter and got my money order.  When I got back outside, it happened again!  This time I couldn’t hear or barely see.  I started my car and made my way out of the parking lot to the stop sign.  I had two options.  I could go left and head home, get some water and sleep whatever this was off.  The next option was to go right and head to the hospital down the street.  There was a little voice that said, “Go right, even if it’s gas you will know it’s gas.”

When I got in the ER I explained my symptoms and when I got to triage, the nurse took my blood pressure.  She looked at me with a very concerned face and called another nurse over.  The other nurse took my blood pressure again and I took a peek at the number it was 80/50.  I could tell by their faces that was not good, and they got a wheelchair and wheeled me to the back.  I started to feel a little bit better as I waited for the doctor to come so in my head I am thinking that I was right about the gas and this stay was going to be pretty quick.  The PA asked me some questions and when he asked if it was possible that I was pregnant I cackled and showed him my patch.  They still made me pee in a cup and the waiting game continued.  After about an hour of waiting the PA returned and said they were going to wheel me down to ultrasound.  After verifying my identity to the tech, she asked, “Besides this time, how many times have you been pregnant?”  Beg pardon?  What the hell did she mean by “this time?”  I couldn’t be pregnant.  I had the patch.  I asked her to clarify and her eyes got big.  “They didn’t tell you that you were pregnant?”  I shook my head no.  She let out an exasperated sigh and left the room.  When she came back she said, “I am sorry, I wish they really would have told me that you didn’t know.”  I couldn’t register a damn thing she was saying.  Pregnant?  What?  Now, by this time The Girl was two and I was in NO WAY prepared to be a parent again.  To make matter worse, I was pregnant by the King of all Fuckboys AND I was still living with my parents.  If I was not laying on that table I would have wall slid right into the ground.  There was talk of the pregnancy possibly not being inter uterine and I have never stared at an ultrasound so hard.  I didn’t see anything that resembled the little jumping bean I recalled from when I was pregnant with The Girl, but if you have ever seen an early ultrasound you never know what you are looking at.  They wheeled me back to another room and by this time my mom and sister, who was in town were there and they brought The Girl because I wasn’t able to pick her up from school.  When I saw my mama all I could think of was, “She is going to kill me.  Right here in this hospital.”  The doctor came back and she asked if I wanted to clear the room.  I said yes and my family left.  She said, “You are pregnant, but it is an ectopic pregnancy and you are going to need surgery.  We may be able to save your fallopian tube, provided it didn’t rupture but if it did, we won’t be able to save it.  Right now we are planning for a laparoscopic surgery but if things are complicated there is a possibility that we will have to go to an open approach.”  My mom and sister came back in the room and I finally told my mama what was going on.  Her response: “PREGNANT BY WHO?!?!?!”  I really didn’t think that was important and thank God for the Mama-I-Am-Dying card because I really think she was going to kill me.  My sister circled the wagons and addressed what I was really scared of.  Daddy Page.  Listen, Daddy Pope has nothing on Daddy Page.  Daddy Page is the hell, high water, fire, and brimstone.  She leaned in and said, “Listen, this is the story.  Vicky has a cyst.  The cyst has ruptured.  Fin.”  In that moment she became my personal Olivia Pope.  As I waited for the nurse to wheel me up to the OR, I was secretly relieved that it was an ectopic, I loved kids, but I was still living in my mama’s house. Furthermore, my baby was only two, this was all for the best I rationalized.  In the quiet of the OR the anesthesiologist put the mask on my face and told me to count backwards from 100, 100, 99, 98……..

I woke up shaking like a Polaroid picture because guess what?  I have malignant hypothermia, so I was placed under a lot of blankets and they had a french fry warming type of light on me.  My throat was dry.  Where the hell am I?  Why is my nurse talking to me about her reinstatement of a bad smoking habit after her divorce?  Where is my mama?  They let my mom come back to recovery and she patted my back and gave me some graham crackers.  I just looked at her and said, “I’m sorry, Mama.”  I lifted the hospital gown and noticed that I had three little cuts that were covered with band aids, they did the laparoscopy.  The rest of the night was a little foggy, but I do remember that my dad met us at Walgreen’s and I sobbed like a baby in the car because I felt like I let him down.  I got home and worked on the business of recovering.

Three days later, I returned to the GYN who did my surgery for my post operative visit.  He showed me the pictures from my surgery.  I was shock.  “Miss Page, that first picture is what your inside looked like when I put the scope in.”  Y’all, that picture was pitch black.  My abdomen was FILLED with blood.  According to the doctor, I had probably been bleeding out into my abdomen for the last few days.  He told me that I probably would have died had I waited any longer.  The words hit me like a sledgehammer.  That is how fragile life is….if I had turned left and went home, I would have not woke up, just like that.  I did lose my fallopian tube, which didn’t prove to be an issue as 4 years later The Boy was born, but that day I learned a valuable lesson.  I will never ignore my body and the signals it sends when something is wrong.

The Art Of Storytelling: Alex Vause-Victoria Page Connection

14 Aug

 

A lot of you have wondered why I stan so incredibly hard for Laura Prepon’s character on Orange is the New Black, Alex Vause.  I will admit in the beginning of the series, I did not particularly care for her, until I saw her childhood flashback.  The scene begins with a young Alex standing with a group of other girls who are pointing out to her that her shoes really aren’t Adidas.  She’s embarrassed, as her mother is a single mom who doesn’t have money for the real ones.  This happened to me in the seventh grade, except it wasn’t that my shoes where fake, it’s that I ….gasp….only owned one pair of shoes. Continue reading

It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye

26 Jul

So I totally thought I was cool with today being my last day working in DC, until I cleaned out my desk…….

 

 

In a short year, I have cultivated a really awesome work family and I will miss them dearly.  That is the thing about co-workers, in the last 16 years I have had some REALLY good ones, and some REALLY crappy ones and I must say, the BEST co-workers I have had were from my time in the healthcare field.  I want to personally thank all of the surgeons, nurses, and friends that encouraged me to do bigger and better.  When I got here, I really did not understand about networking and the value of BEING POLITE.  The latter is what has carried me a long way and I pray to God I never become complacent or rude.  So, today I close this chapter in my life and prepare to move on to more responsibility and coins (giggles).  Next stop: McLean!!!!!

Saturday: Daytripping Downtown

2 Jul
The National Archives

The National Archives

This past Saturday, my son and I got up early for a day of museum hopping in Downtown DC.  Since I ALWAYS go to the Smithsonian Museum of American History, I decided to check out some of the other museums that the Smithsonian had to offer.  That is when I noticed an ad for an exhibit being held at the National Archives called Documerica.  Documeria is a photography exhibit that features photography taken around America in the 1970’s.  The pictures were simply amazing as they caught slices of life grouped by a vast variety of cities and small towns.  My son however, did not seem very enthused by the exhibit.  He entertained himself by talking to the security guards and asking more questions than a lawyer during cross examination.  My only advice for going to the Archives is to save a wait in line by going to the website and getting the tickets (which are free).

Documerica

Documerica

View from the Archives Metro exit

View from the Archives Metro exit

The line outside.  It moved pretty fast!

The line outside. It moved pretty fast!

"What is past is prologue"

“What is past is prologue”

Our next stop on our little journey was to the Native American Museum.  I have been trying to go to this museum for a solid year, but I didn’t realize the museums stretched the length of the National Mall.  When we got to the museum, we were immediately greeted by a huge tipi.  Yes, I spelled that right.  One of the first things I learned at the museum is that I have been misspelling “tee-pee” wrong my entire life.

INDIAN4There were some really interesting exhibits, and they had these really nice sitting areas on the at the end of each wing.

View from the third floor

View from the third floor

 

Very interesting sculpture....You have not felt embarassment until your 3 year old shouts: "Look Mommy, Ninnies!!!"

Very interesting sculpture….You have not felt embarrassment until your 3 year old shouts: “Look Mommy, Ninnies!!!”

Outside of the Museum

Outside of the Museum

On my search for the National Art Museum, I came across the US Botanical Gardens.  This was going to be a real treat since I miss going to the botanical gardens in Norfolk.  The entrance was absolutely an oasis after pushing a 40 pound toddler in a stroller (don’t stand in judgement) in the 90 degree plus weather.  The Boy and I sat down on a cushioned sofa covered by the shade of a huge umbrella .  We sipped our water and looked at the Capitol building, wishing my mom was there since I know she loves this kind of stuff.  Once we got all cooled off and composed we entered the building, which was like a garden from the windows to the walls (I’m childish).  If you ever get a chance to go, check out the jungle room where there are plenty of exotic plants that I don’t know the names of and a second floor that I want to see, but the elevator was out of service (stroller life!).  Adjacent to the jungle room is the medicinal plant room that carried all of these different plants and noted their uses.  There was one missing from the group.  Moving on…..

Jungle Room

Jungle Room

Medicinal Room

Medicinal Room

The day was wonderful, I enjoyed spending some time with The Boy since I don’t get to do that much during the week because of my crazy commute.  Of course we ended our day at our favorite place, Bayou Bakery for our weekly dreamsicle sno ball and crawfish.

Sno Ball!!!!!

Sno Ball!!!!!

Crawdads....I prefer the term, Mudbugs

Crawdads….I prefer the term, Mudbugs

 

 

 

Sunday Brunch: Crown Bakery

1 Jul

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On Sunday, J, his brother, his girlfriend, and I hit up brunch at Crown Bakery located at 5409 Georgia Avenue in Northwest, DC. This was my first time having a Caribbean brunch so I didn’t know what to expect. The restaurant is two floors, and brunch is served on the second floor in a cozy, home like atmosphere. The staff made us feel like family. The food was AMAZING!!! I tried the salt fish and it was delicious!!! I rounded out my meal with oxtails, rice with pigeon peas and plenty of fried plaintains. The icing on the cake was the rum punch which is bottomless!

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There were plenty of options as you can see for J, who is a pescetarian:

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The food is served buffet style, which means you get plenty

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So give them a try next time you get a taste for real Caribbean food!

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Spaces and Places: Safeway BBQ Battle

27 Jun

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This past Saturday the boy and I headed to Downtown DC to attend the Safeway BBQ battle. Anyone who knows me well, knows I LOVE BBQ! The only thing I watch on Food Network are the BBQ competitions and I dream of going to Memphis in May. The best part of this trip for my so was he got an opportunity to ride the metro.

Once we hit Pennsylvania Avenue we could smell all of that BBQ. The lines were insanely long for all of the stands so finally I settled on Old Glory BBQ. I had the BBQ sandwich and the grilled corn. The Boy ate most of the sandwich, but I can tell you the corn was delicious!!! It was seasoned with old bay and melted butter.

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There were two concert stages set up and we chose to stay at the Famous Dave’s stage where Be’la Donna and Black Alley were set to perform. I really enjoyed Be’la Donna! Their tension of “Love on Top” was the best! I didn’t get a chance to stay for Black Alleu because The Boy and I were hot and the heat was oppressive. We rode back home tired, from our first BBQ competition.

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