soul food
the only thing I really looked forward to when I woke up in the morning was my toasted bagel with cream cheese and chicken noodle (or minestrone, or today it was actually split pea) soup that I got from the deli across the street from my job. just the thought of it got me through consistently waking up earlier then I have since I was in high school, taking a lukewarm shower (fucking major boiler problems in my building, but more on that after these messages), sitting on the train tryin not to stare at anyone in particular for too long because that shit is rude, and walking the two blocks to work past all the maintenance folk who wash store windows and awnings and other miscallaneous lower east side type worker bee shit who all feel the need to watch me walk past all seedy or comment in another language about who knows what part of me even if I'm wearing sweatpants. but alas, that joy is gone. I can't have bagels anymore or any kind of bread product. I'm on an "eating plan".
I have diabetes in my family. I don't want diabetes. certain recent events have me scared about developing diabetes. hence my "eating plan". instead of a toasted bagel all chewy and soft in the middle with thick yummy cream cheese erotically spread all over it, I had two apples. I have to find something else to look forward to.
my life is about to change big time. more on that later.
my family reunion was boss...I had a thoroughly enjoyable time. I got to see some new additions to the family that I hadn't seen before due to my missing the reunion last year, including my cousin dave's daughter and my cousin michael james' son...got to meet a couple of my cousin's new caucasian(!) girlfriends...ate way too much. I'd told christopher we wouldn't have to worry about paying to eat the whole weekend...there was food everywhere, at everyone's house, at any given moment, all day all night. and we are a late-night, wear out your welcome, two, three plate grabbing family.
I'ma tell you what I'll probably never do again, though, and that is take an afternoon flight. when I am going somewhere, I usually fly out mad early, like 8am, just so I can get it over with and be where I'm going by 11am, noon at the latest...subsequently having the entire day to just relax...but it just didn't work out that way this time as our flight was 3:15pm. funny story, um...we didn't get to the airport until 3:15pm...which was partly my fault...because I somehow forgot how long it takes to get to fuckin newark airport from the bronx (the answer = like two hours)...and partly juan the super of our building's fault...for not having our boiler functioning. I had to boil pot after pot of water to get enough to halfway fill the tub and not only cleanse myself, but wash my hair as well. however, all that notwithstanding, and due to the weather, our flight was delayed until 4:40 anyway. by the time we got on the plane, waited to depart from the backed up runway, flew to pittsburgh, waited in line for our rent-a-car, and drove to my mama's house it was about 8pm. mama had soup on the stove all thick with meat and potatoes and carrots so...christopher and I basically killed it dead...sipping, gulping, and slurping like malnourished hogs. my mama just watched us lovingly...she adores christopher and I'm her babygirl. after we were replinished, we visited with her and her new husband for awhile...looked through her wedding photos...and got back on the road for the hour ride to new castle. arrived at my cousin jeff's at 11:25pm. never shall I take an afternoon flight again if I can help it.
a nice sizeable group was all there, though, at least the regular late night jeffrey's house crew, which included my dad. I don't even entirely recall what transpired there other then a lot of hugging and introducing...and more eating, and chocolate cake...christopher had three pieces. we didn't even check into our hotel room (and lemme tell ya how half that comfort inn was filled with youngs; I could've knocked on a random door and got a family member) until after 2am and only that late because michael james and dean's trife asses didn't wait for us to pull out and we got lost trying to find the hotel...down a most horrifyingly dark and narrow two lane street...which I promptly titled the blair witch road, a.k.a the shit nightmares are made out of road, a.k.a. where nigras disappear in the woods and are never heard from again road (I actually think that one was christopher's).
saturday was picnic day, but first my father, christopher, and I went to pay our annual visit to the graveyard where a great deal of my family is buried, including my grandma - the only grandparent I ever knew. me and my dad cried a little, briefly reminisced about how it didn't feel as though it'd been ten years already, and got out of there...headed to the park. dad and I introduced christopher to the rest of my family, which basically consisted of the ones that can't hang at jeff's until 1am...so, the older folk...and dame of course. we got off to a late start eating, waiting for the macaroni and cheese to arrive from youngstown, but it was worth it...aww yes...cornbread, bbq chicken, lemon/lime pop. the boys played basketball, my uncle wilbur asked when he was going to see me on a tv show, christopher charmed folk, I held my cousin colby's babyboy until he got exasperated enough to be less adorable...somewhere in there we ran to the walmart to get topher some draws (long story...didn't have time to do laundry...judge lest thou be judged or something) and spotted a kitchen starter set michael said he'd get us for a late housewarming present. around 5pm the older folk began to disperse for the "over-40" dinner and dance that evening, an annual new castle event that coincides with our family reunion thanks to my dad, who is the director of the -ahem- new castle hometown corporation. small towns don't have mayors, but my dad is new castle's unofficial HNIC. the over-40 is basically what it sounds like...all the men and women over the age of 40 who either grew up or have familial ties in new castle get together to dance, flirt like they did when they were youngbucks, eat, sip a little sumthin...basically it's prom with middle-aged black folk and much better music and ensembles. and when the old folk are away the 20-somethings will play. we all adjourned back to the hotel to get oh so fresh and clean and head ourselves to a club called the elks. by this time I wasn't feeling the best, but I'd never been there despite it being THE spot in new castle ever since I was a kid (small towns don't have but a few spots, the elks being THE) so I rolled. we spent a few minutes downstairs but I quickly went exploring upstairs where I found the middle aged folk and therefore the GOOD music. we kicked it up there for the rest of the night while the ruffians and scallywags tore up the downstairs with their hippity hoppity music and saggy jeans...me, christopher, michael james and dean, off and on my cousin joey who I call mike tyson cause basically, he could mollywhop you, my cousin jonathan, who was also celebrating his 28th birthday, and his chick stephanie, who spent an hour peer pressuring a very willing chris into drinking more and more...thus what happens when you're used to $10 new york cocktails, yet at the elks - $4 tops. last time I was with jonathan on his birthday was in 2002 in cincinnatti...oh the intoxication that occured...memories...
I'ma wager it was around 1:30, 2am when I started to get the "I wanna get the fuck out of dodge" twinge...I get it sometimes when I have a premonition of foolishness fittina go down, it's pretty flawless. not ten minutes later, when I was trying to say hi to a girl named elaine, who I hadn't seen in fifteen years since we used to play together at my grandma's house, did she get slammed into a wall by some ignorant reggin...and my twinge turned into a full on "I am ret' to go" sledgehammer. after pleading with my cousins to leave for fifteen minutes christopher and I headed out solo. the downstairs had transmogrified into a sweaty negro knot of maddness...wall to wall reggins pushing and signifying and grinding...and it was bargain basement reggae shack dark...we literally had to shove our way out to the parking lot. my plan, if you could call it that, was to either hope michael and them were somewhere behind us or just leave and hope to find jeff's again somehow (small town ya know). but some fucking REGGIN thought it'd be a good idea to park directly behind me thus blocking us in. the next hour was spent panicking...on my part that is...christopher's spent trying to calm me down and hug and comfort me. let me tell you something...when I wanna leave somewhere I want to GO. shit! I was nearly hyperventilating. mother humping 3am and michael finally wanders over like "oh heyyyy girl"...asked the kid sitting in his truck next to our car to pull out so we could swerve around dumb blocking ass reggin's car and follow them back to the hotel. but oh no...you know it couldn't go down that easy. dean's drunk caucasian ass (the infiltration of caucasions upon the young family is all thanks to one specific sect of the family, btw) wanted to drive...wouldn't give mike the keys...snapped and slurred at all of us about how coherent he was...finally gave them up and pouted almost as hard as I was fuming. infact, I was so sick and queasy at this point I wanted something to eat to calm my stomach so we decided to go to a take-out diner. on the ride there christopher fell asleep...which pissed me off cause I needed his eyes too, it was foggy...finally got to the hotel after 4am. I got out the car, closed my door, started to walk away and this nigga christopher still slumped in his seat talkin about "oh are we at the hotel? I thought we were making another stop". once I finally got into bed I didn't even eat half the turkey burger I'd ordered before I most seriously passed out, halfway still angry cause I really didn't want to be out that late...I would've rather stayed a couple hours at the elks and gone back to jeff's to see the old folk come in from the over-40 all tipsy and happy and full of stories to tell.
this is getting long and I still ain't done sunday...I'm just typing this for me now, though, for posterity...so it's okay if you find it boring...I'm too tired to really be interesting...maybe I'll inject interest into this entry tomorrow (update: I injected more interest. still boring? well, fuck ya).
sunday sunday sunday...we didn't even get moving until noon and that was before most of the fam in the hotel and my dad, who didn't even call until close to 1pm. my stomach was cramped and aching from alcohol, which I didn't even have a lot of. two drinks tops, wasn't even tipsy as I knew I had to drive...but ick I felt shitty and vowed for the 100th time in my 20-something life to never ever have another sip of rum. I'm uncertain what time we finally got over to my aunt's house for the fish fry, but apparently everyone kinda had a late rollout cause we weren't even late...infact, we beat mike, dean, jonathan and stephanie by at least an hour. so...food role call...more macaroni and cheese, fried fish, cake. I also watched a couple chess games kickin off, one of them consisting of my dad mercilessly chasing never-resign-even-after-both-your-bishops-and-your-queen-is-gone-stephanie's king around the board until checkmate. oh, and there were stories, finally stories...my dad and gangsta weeb, damon's dad, told lots about when they were kids...stories I've mostly heard but are still hilariously enjoyable. i.e., how my uncle leonard hit a kid picking on my dad, his baby brother, so hard the police thought he hit him with a lead pipe...how weeb was going to whup a white boy with a bat for calling his wife and mother-in-law a racial slur until the white boy picked up a meat cleaver...how they all used to get whupped with paddles in school and refuse to cry and therefore give their teachers satisfaction...priceless.
as it started to get dark, my family began to disperse once again...some back up to jeff's, which, if you didn't get it by now, is grand central station...some back to atlanta, cincinnatti, youngstown, maryland, pittsburgh, so on. up at jeff's the lone survivors settled around the television to watch hidalgo, but about half way through my father told me and christopher to get back to the hotel and go to sleep to prepare for our 7:45am flight the next morning. we obliged full and sleepy. I always hate telling my father goodbye, this time being no different. I'm just glad he and christopher finally met and had a chance to talk man to man about christopher's intentions toward me and other such father/boyfriend fodder. I'm glad my dad digs him as much as everyone else does. charming dred bastard.
next morning we got a 4:30am wake up call and I was thisclose to just crying...fuck...I was so weary and tired and full of soul food. back to the rotten apple we flew and back to work I went, aching and exhausted. a week later and I still feel the effects of it (when you're climbin up a ladder and you feel something splatter...) and I miss my family, but I'm okay. shit is changing and its very exciting to share it with someone who's finally been young family approved.