My Dreams

I think since I was in high school I have dreamed repeatedly each night and I usually remember. Sometimes the dreams are good and funny. Other times, like now, they're not. My latest dream actually has me in a very not good mood and I don't want to really be bothered.

What's interesting about the dream is how it is still effecting me although I have been up for hours now. What I realize now is that it's true; it's how I really feel. I always think when I talk to people that no one understands me. I have come to accept that and move on. But at some point I really want someone to understand.

In my life, think only two people have understood me. One of those people is my cousin. Problem with is that I didn't see her at all in 2009 and I rarely talked to anymore. She has like 50 million kids and moved to Indiana. But I understand that she has a family, so it's not a big to me.

The other person was my mother. She died in 1999. And in this particular dream I was looking for her everywhere because I felt like no one understood me. I also, felt like no one understood and wanted to cry. I woke up wanting to cry because there was nothing else I could do. In my dreams she never dead, I just usually can't find her or she about to leave and then she's just gone. Also in my dreams, we're always back on 48th and Calumet in Chicago. I haven't lived there in forever. I once wished that I didn't dream anymore and I didn't, but somehow felt incomplete. My dreams are the only place I can hold a conversation with my mother now.

Right now I am living with my grandmother and I think that most of the time no one here understands. For example, this morning I was talking to my aunt and she was reacting to like she normally does when I make faces. She didn't understand that something was disturbing me and whatever I said didn't have anything to do directly with her. But that is usually the extent of the conversation: missunderstanding.

My father is the same way. It's completely pointless for me expect him to understand me because he doesn't. I already know. It's so sad sometimes. He repeatedly asks me the same questions and doesn't listen like a typically man.

There's so much pressure to have someone understand. There's an internal battle and I have to see how this plays out. Because for the new year I am incorporating Fearlessness in 2010.

It's Football Season and I Watched a Movie to Support

I can debate myself whether or not having no money or my desire to not support certian movies allows me to religiously continue my Netflix subscription.

With that being said, I recently rented "The Express."

I was interested in this movie for several reasons. A portion of the movie was filmed in Chicago and in my neighborhood (Obamaland) in 2007. At the time the movie was being filmed in the late Spring, I wrote a story about how the movie's producers were using an apartment building in Hyde Park to depicit a segregated hotel in Dallas. I was also interested in learning more about the first black Heisman trophy winner, Ernie Davis. Why hadn't heard about Ernie Davis playing before? I would soon learn that his life was cut short due to illness.

Despite my interest, I never went to the show (Chicago term) to see the movie. I did put it on my Netflix rental queue.

Keeping in mind that biographical movies are often loosely based on someone's actual life, I was pleasantly surprised when I watched "The Express." Oftentimes when I receive movies about racial and pesonal stuggles, I have to gather myself and create the right state of mind. I didn't have to do that with this movie.

The movie states that in the beginning Davis could barrel through tough situations. Case in point: Davis (Justin Martin) and his cousin Will (Justin Jones) are collecting bottles for money on near railroad tracks in the Northeast circa early 1950s when a group of white kids attempted to bully them. Will ran off, but Davis stayed. He barreled his way through the boys and ran all the way home without receiving a stratching from the bullies. Who knows wheter or not the event happened as depicted. It did, however, foreshadow things to come in Davis' life.

What is factual is that Davis is living with his grandfather, Pops, played by Charles S. Dutton in the movie. His mother (Aunjunae Ellis) comes back into Davis' life and takes him to Elmira, New York. As Davis approaches his new neighborhood he sees a sign about football tryouts and you see the light bulb off in his head. The good news is that he makes the team, of course. The bad is that even the coaches mistreated the kids on the team.

Lined up in a large football stadium, you watch as the coach hands out new jerseys from two large boxes to all on the team. The three black players, including Davis, are at the end. Somehow you hope that by the time Davis get to the boxes that there will be new green jerseys for the boys. No such luck. And what's even more amazing is that the coaches seem surprised, as if they couldn't count. The boys are also in desbelief and have to look in the boxes themselves.

As the season gets underway, it's clear that Davis is too fast for the other tweens. Fast forward to Syracuse University Coach Ben Schwartzwalder (Dennis Quaid) looking to replace Jim Brown after he drafted by the Cleveland Browns. Schwartzwalder saying something to effect that are they only making blacks players now while watching footage of possible future Orangemen. Davis, portrayed by Rob Brown, could run, had a clean record and appeared to be the opposite of "militant" Jim Brown. Those qualities inquired Schwartzwalder and he wanted Davis in Syracuse, but some coaxing from Brown (Darrin Dewitt Henson) to secure Davis.

Davis ends up at Syracuse, lands on the varisty team as a freshmen and ends wearing Jim Brown's number. The decision to have Davis wear Brown's is something that creates some heat for the coaching staff. It also shows while Davis wasn't flamboyant about dislike for certain things, he would check people when necessary.

Davis bumps head with other players and makes some friends. But winning games changes everything for teams and especially when Syracuse went undefeated and decided to play Texas. This is where Hyde Park comes in. The black players couldn't sleep in the hotel (Winderemere Apartment Building). Three large football players ended staying in one closet-like room with unkept cots.

Big football moments continue and by Davis's senior year, he was nominated for the 1961 Heisman Trophy. Odds of a black man winning were good because there was another black player nominated. But then again it was 1961. Long story short: Davis wins, he shown another way in the hotel where he meets President John F. Kennedy and is drafted by the Cleveland Browns.

All these good things are happening for Davis, but all along he was ignoring small things. His nose would bleed a lot and he blamed the game. But that all changed when he was practing for the All American Game when he couldn't catch the ball and he passed out. No one knew what was wrong with him and he continiued to practice Browns. However, he was told that he had leukemia. Davis helped to attract the next Syracuse University player Floyd Little and confided in Little that he would never have a chance to play pro ball. Despite that, Davis dressed for the first game, walked on the field to a cheering crowd in 1962 and died the following spring at 23.

Movies are not to be taken literally when it's biopic. There has to be some way to tell it to people. Like with this one. Davis was known as the "The Elmira Express" but the movie was called "The Express." Also, this movie is based on the book "The Elmira Express: the Story of Ernie Davis" by Robert C. Gallagher.

I would recommend the movie because it can open your eyes (like it did mine) to history. From there it's up to you to learn more.

What Sucks the Most . . . the Sitting, the Waiting

I really, really hate that misery loves company. At this point in my life I am so not interested in having anyone go through what I am going through. I haven't had a full time job since January. The plus side to that is that I haven't had to go in to anyone's office. I faced eviction in March or April, but was able to overcome that with false hopes of steady employment. Various family members (already going through their whatever) donated money also to me so that I wouldn't have an eviction on my credit report. But it's August and I haven't paid rent since June.

I can't find steady employment. I can't get hired at Target, or Wal-Mart, or Borders or Panera Bread (although all these places are hiring). I have to rely on being a free-lance writer, which is fine but inconsistent. And for some reason I am overqualified to be an administrative assistant. The state of journalism has created an environment where people with more experience are landing the jobs that should go to me (or writers like me). It would be easy to say it's not fair, but I am not worried about being fair. I am worried about not having an money. Literally, none.

I think, today, I have $3 on an unemployment debit card. The last time I received money from unemployment was in May. It's August and I have been holding on to those $3. The worst part about not receiving unemployment is that I receive less than $90 a week. Who can survive on that like in Hyde Park? But here is the best part: Because I was making about $120 a week, I no longer qualified for unemployment. To keep from crying, all I can do is laugh.

All I want from this experience and possible eviction is to not be evicted. I don't want an eviction on my credit. It's already jacked up because I can pay no one. I remember reading this book called "The Broke Diaries" by Angela Nissel a couple of years ago.

I remember Angela's story about how she wanted to buy some ramen noodles, got to the store and realized she was a few pennies short. So what did she do? When the clerk rang up her purchase, she put the money on the counter and ran out. I don't have any money for ramen.

"The Broke Diaries" is completely hilarious and started out as web site. I think I should go re-read it because there is a good message. While Angela was down and broke as a college (not unlike so many), she recovered. She worked for okayplayer.com, wrote a book or two for a major publishing company and created a following. Great rebound!

I am fortunate enough to made it this far without any money. I am grateful that my family was able to look out for me. I appreciate all that they have done.

And at the end of the day, I am never mad. Usually I am puppies and bubbles because another door opens -like today. I think I may have found a way that the eviction won't go on my credit report. I will find out more tomorrow.

Thank You!

Black men, Black men, Black Men

There are two things that I don't like: male bashing and stupid people. The scary thing is that I am about to combine the two.

So yesterday, I was heading home and towards the elevator in the building. I saw one guy standing already waiting and he saw me.

(Sidenote: He's was interested in talking to me. Let's called him "Mark." He used to wait for me after work. He once asked if he could come over and bring some wine. And I was like "For What?" He told me he was moving and I was like "Good for you." Becuase I wasn't interested in talking to him, he started acting funny. Here's the reasoning, he's always home in the middle of the day or waiting on someone to do something for him. I know why I am around during the middle of the day: I am covering some event or person. And honestly I think he is a girl. I don't have time for that.)

Anywho, I decided to check my mail. BTW I had four bags with me and I was struggling. Another guy came in smiled and said "Hi" as he checked his mail. I was trying to gather my belonging when the elevator arrived and they all proceeded on. They all saw me and no one held the elevator for me. I started thinking "What the hell?" I know their mother taught them better, but they decided to act like they have no common sense and/or courtesy. Now I can give the guy who checked him mail the benefit of the doubt because he ran to the elevator. I know he couldn't do much else. Once you press the button to go to a floor that's it. The occupants have to hold the elevator.

This has happened before in this building. I once had bags of pillows and approached the building door. "Mark" and two other guys were standing there. And they all stood there. No one offered to help me. How can you not help someone when they need help? I was told that if I had my ass or breasts hanging out they would have helped.

I have tons of stories about black men and this building who don't help.

HaHa

Sometimes it is so fabulous to know that I am not the only person thinking something.

So with too much time on my hands, I tried checking out Yahoo! On the homepage is a link about "Saved By the Bell." If you haven't heard Jimmy Fallon is trying to get the actors together for a reunion on his late nite show. So far, Mr. Belding (Dennis Haskins), Lisa Turtle (Lark Voorhies), and AC Slater (Mario López) have agreed to the reunion. Zack Morris (Mark-Paul Gosselaa) ris scheduled to be on the show tonight, so let's see what happens. After that Samuel "Screech" Powers (Dustin Diamond), Jessie Spano (Elizabeth Berkley) and Kelly Kowpowski (Tiffini Thiessen) will be the hold outs.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/64987/late-night-with-jimmy-fallon-saved-by-the-bell-reuniting-the-cast

(Sidenote: I really like Jimmy Fallon. He's such a geek. And that is why I like him.)

Also on the Yahoo! page are stories about two other tv shows "The A-Team" and "Facts of Life." The writers from getback.com commented about each actor and "Where are they now?" Well first up for "Facts of Life" was Kim Fields. And in her little bio was the line "Five years after "Facts" wrapped in 1988, Kim joined Queen Latifah and Kim Coles in the cast of another popular sitcom, 'Living Single,' FOX's African-

American answer to 'Friends.'"

The million dollar question: How can "Living Single" be FOX's African American answer to "Friends"? "Living Single" first aired in 1993 and "Friends" followed one year later. So what show is really inspired by the other? This could be a mute point, but what Yahoo! posted and claimed as facts brings up a couple of things.

First, do you your research before you start claiming the sky is purple when it's really blue. Second, hire an editor. The third thing is so simple, look it up. Looking up this info on these two shows would have taken like five seconds. Some people are just ill-equipped to writers. Just because you have something to say does mean that people need to follow you.

So this was general point about this topic. I was planning to go the web site to bitch and moan. But some people had already beat me there and I was truly truly happy. Supposedly, the writers have corrected the situation, but it hasn't happened on the Yahoo! page yet.

Is it appropriate to tell someone their fly is open?

This morning I was on my way to 47th Street to meet someone who didn't show up and I took the bus. As I was waited to let the two men off the bus I noticed that one needed to zip is fly.

I was torn because I had on my jeans where the zipper fly keeps coming down. I didn't know if I should say something. I wasn't sure what impression he would have because I saw that he needed to zip his fly.

Here's why. This actually happened to me when I was in Wal-Mart in a couple of weeks ago checking out plants. This man was standing in the corner "looking at plants" talking on his cell when he went "Miss" and kind of pointed down. He really looked like a pervert and not because he was looking at my crotch. He could have been drinking something and he would have looked like a pervert. That just might be nature.

Then he did it again. I said,"Huh?" and he pointed down yet again and said, "Your zipper." I looked and was like "Oh. Thanks."

So while I thought he was a pervert, I was grateful he told me that my zipper was down. That's what I keep thinking about that guy who was on the bus. But I don't know? And I won't know because I said nothing.

I felt bad afterwards because he crossed the street like he was going somewhere and then came back and his fly was still open.

So let me tell you what SUCKS!!

I'm waiting for inspiration. I swear this sucks. The purpos of a blog is to showcase writing and right now I can't. I have nothing to say, which is something that hardly EVER happens. While I ususally have tons of ideas somewhere in my head, but I can't tapped them.



And my plan was to bitch and moan about things, I can't think of anything to bitch and moan about. This pisses me off!!



Okay, so maybe something will strick me later.