That time I didn't think I would breathe again... #breatheagain

I’m sure I told yall that I ain’t too smart. Most people don’t believe me when I attest to my ability AND inability to know things, though I hold all the resources and facts that would make me just a knower, know what I mean? I can’t call it. My best hypothesis... My brain doesn’t move at the speed of my body, and the reaction times get all messed up, and well *shrug* 

I promise, it’s not in a problem child, “I knew it was bad and I did it anyway to piss you off.” It’s more like a curious kid, “I know it’s bad, but what level of bad is it? AND Shouldn’t I test the theory to make sure?” type of thing, which still, oddly enough to me, pisses you off. Because now there’s water on the floor that has to be cleaned up. It's like I heard you and didn't hear you (but, absolutely did) at the same (damn) time.

That picturesque painting lasted too long, because the idiot things were very idiotic. Like this one:

I traveled to Dallas to see family and friends because while it wasn’t very safe to travel to a place like Dallas, those responsibilities were being responsible at that time. While traveling, no matter the destination, I always bring back souvenirs, because I miss yall or whatever. They’re usually your vices because YOLO or petty postcards because they make stamps 'pacifically for them. This, though, meant cigars and spirits for Uncle. 

(you already know what’s happening next)

While I was cigar shopping (in a mask and still suffering from smoke inhalation) I saw the cutest little baby cigars. I was like, “OMG, that’s me…” and Dee looked at me because, of course I should be looked at thinking that any kind of smoke is cute. Don't all of my personalities have allergies? (Yes, they do) In perfect, pollen-free weather conditions, it’s likely I’ll have kleenex stuffed up a nostril, and I think a cigar is cute? Yup. Sure did.

(see, you were right, hunh?)

It’s Friday night, on the porch, and the guys are smoking their cigars. I ran into the house to present my baby cigar, along with the gifts I bought Uncle and the guys. Uncle looked at that baby cigar and said, “I don’t know why you got me that!”

“It’s not for you! It’s a baby one, for me!”

Hysterical laughter. He almost dropped his whisk(e)y glass. 

Logic that is literally not logic: “See, yall cigars are too big and all smoky and whatnot, so I can’t have those. This is a baby one like me, so it’s not going to be all smoky like that.” Or so, I’ve convinced one of my Uncle’s friends; let's call him Idiot #2. (Imma always be Numbah 1! - this isn't a good thing, but I think I made it good in my head - hence this post)

“If you light that thing and she falls out, you’re taking her to the hospital.” Uncle looked that man straight in the eye. Clear face. Super serious. Idiot #2 thought it was a joke. Not sure why.

Me: Watches the baby cigar being lit. Cheers inside seeing the fire like Cheryl from Archer. Forgets that I’m not supposed to inhale because of the exciting fire. Inhales.

Passes out in the grass.

Yall. I am on my knees gasping for fresh air, outside, in the middle of fresh air. I started to tear up. I think this was supposed to be one of those near death moments where you revisit things in your life, see scenes introspectively or whatever, right? None of that. I was leaned over, lungs on fire, hoping to pass out (again). Because Lord, if this is it, just take me now. I GET IT. I’M A MENACE AND I DON’T DESERVE THINGS OR ABILITIES LIKE BREATHING.

“See, that’s YOUR fault.” Pointing to his friend and looking for a set of car keys to launch at him.

After drinking water out of his friend’s cup, literally worried if it was safe to do because of the picturesque painting, I just sat. You would think, in that moment, I would swear off anything exactly or related to smoke. From the paprika to bonfire - everything in between and on the outskirts. I sat, slumped over, with my hand still pressed to my chest, trying to resuscitate my lungs, still on fire.

You know what I had the unmitigated gall to say in that moment? “Maybe I didn’t get the RIGHT kind.” I'm using the word "say" but it was definitely unintelligible mumbles and coughs.

Yall. If Uncle Eddie could have snatched the time stone from Dr. Strange, he wouldn't have even looked for a possible possibility of a sensical me, he have gone back in time and eradicated my DNA.

I totally identify with Cheryl. Honestly, truly.

Also, by that next Friday, I had my own cigar torch - thanks to his friend. I was off to the side of the house burning cardboard, becoming Cheryl (from Archer) while they enjoyed their cigars and spirits. I wouldn’t have gotten caught, except. I ran suspiciously for the water hose. I heard Uncle yell, “You gave her a WHAT?!?! She didn’t tell you about that kitchen did she?!?!” Reaching for something to throw at me. #NoDaysOff4Uncle lol

So what if I’m the reason for his spirits and cigars. I would buy them for him, right? Good ones, too. Jeez.

#Medal(less) Mondays

Remember how I told yall that I was a grown adult, but also very much a child, and should always be supervised? I feel like you don’t remember because things continue to happen to me, and I continue to remind you.

Okay, so this is what happened. We were in a panoramic picture for like ever right? Everything was closed and we couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. Which sucks when it’s your birthday. I mean, you can still get gifts and see people, but like you have to sit outside, and be so many feet away, and wear masks. 

But this was the post-panoramic picture era and outside was doing things and I loved it. Going to baseball games with friends, eating all the seafood that was ever made in the history of Uncle’s kitchen, drinking all the things, sleeping in as long as I wanted, and smiling. It was an amazing weekend of smiles celebrating my birthday.

The last event, a Wine Walk, was the best way to end it. Blocked off streets, bottomless wine thanks to being a year older and well, buying a ticket to the event, steaming turkey leg, and oversized grilled oysters. Throw in some good friends you haven’t seen in a while, and it was an amazing day. Absolutely amazing. I mean, day drinking and eating, and getting home while there is still light outside? Life sometimes gives, to us millennials, abundantly. 

I arrived home feeling amazing. I navigated the tetris that was the cars in the driveway and on the street because, well, my Uncle. I found a path through the freshly manicured grass, and headed for a seat on the porch to take in the rest of the sunshine. I stopped mid-walk because I heard my Uncle’s voice. He was already on the porch, on the phone with someone. I raised my hand in a happy wave, and took a step.

In milliseconds, my body was shaped like a chalk outline of a person who fell from a few stories up. Still alive, but how would you know for certain? I just laid there wondering how my purse was launched so far from me, because it was literally the only thing in my hand. What’s worse is that Uncle literally worked my fall into his conversation - that hadn’t stopped. 

“Uncle. I don’t think I can get up.” I actually thought about not asking for help, as if nobody couldn’t clearly see me laid out in the grass in the front of the yard. Like there was a cloak of invisibility over me or something. 

“Man, let me go. This girl is still laid out on the grass.” Laughing. “I know, right!” More laughing. Obviously, whoever he’s speaking to knows me and expects this of me.

Uncle had to bring me a crutch to get up. A single crutch, with which to balance myself, through the grass, up the two steps, into the house. I completely forgot about my purse. He brought it in and put it on the kitchen counter.

yes, my ankle is hella ashy under there

How did a magical weekend end like this? How Sway? I’ve run half marathons, ragnar relays, double running event weekends, and I never ended up like this. I SPENT THE WEEKEND WALKING! I didn’t even have heels on. Sway! You haven’t answered me! 

I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself up, and hobbled into some pajamas and into the bed. There was still more sun out, but I didn’t see any of it. Until the next day.

___

7:00am, the next day.

“I’m out.” Uncle on his way to work.

“Uncle!!!!!! I don’t think I can walk!” He bursts through the room door assuming I’m laid out again, but I’m in the bed looking at my swollen ankle. It’s like the size of a grapefruit by this point.

“You would hurt yourself when I have to go to work.” Yes, yes I would. I am known for selecting the most inconvenient times to hurt my own self. Walking is my fault now, I guess. He goes to the kitchen and gets an ice pack. I’m instructed to call him if the swelling doesn’t go down. I situate myself in the bed with the ice pack and try to sleep.

But eventually I have to pee. And like I realized at 7:00am, I can’t walk. And I can’t reach that 1 crutch because, where did I put it? Here’s where things get interesting. I’m clearly NOT going to pee in the bed, BUT IF I did pee in this bed, who would know? I literally do the laundry. I got hella bath and body work candles. And yes, I tell yall all my business like my Uncle does, but this - this - I can absolutely keep this to myself.

So I roll over the side of the bed and fall to the floor. Hard. I didn’t realize how tall the bed is and how not tall I am. The math didn’t math and I should feel some shame, but the only thing I feel is the subwoofer attached to my ankle. I shimmy to the bathroom, on my knees and with might unknown get myself propped up on the toilet. Relief. Now, to get back to my room and get my phone because Uncle gotta leave work and fix this.

My phone. In my purse. In the kitchen. On that high ass counter. I haven’t even pulled my pajama pants up. I am in tears yall. Tears. Mostly because I know what’s next. That shimmy I did to get from the bedroom to the bathroom was short. That forward >> left >> long hallway >> right >> through the living room >> left, that I needed to make happen to get to the kitchen, from the bathroom? I literally laid on my stomach, on the floor, and dragged my ridiculous body through the distance of the house, swiffering the floor with my transgressions. When I got to the kitchen counter, I used a barstool to get from horizontal to vertical, and realized I was at the wrong counter.

me in my "good" sweater

I don’t even know how my Auntie from up the street got to the house, to me, and us to Urgent Care. Uncle leaving it unlocked because I'm me makes the most sense though. Not sure, but it was definitely wide open when she got there. I do remember at one point in our exchange saying to her with an unearned amount of audacity that I would be okay - that I didn’t need any help. She just looked at me, as she should have, because WHAT? Girl, if you don’t put your people-of-WalMart outfit on, get your pocketbook, and hobble your butt into this car?

The homey (C.H.) said it best, Lawd. We’re getting a handler for you. You can’t be trusted with yourself.

So the Mondays have been without medals because sometimes you hurt your ankle so bad it takes 6 months to get back into shoes - not running shoes, but two shoes that match. There’s more to the medal-free mondays, but I thought we should get the jokes out first. 

I owed you that.

Baby, I'm Back...Again!

Somebody - not me - had said that January 2024 was the free trial and that the new year starts February 1st, soooo…

Happy New Year! (I kinda wanna give it back tho)

Baby, I’m Back…Again!…like Scooter #sotoxic lol

Whew chile, I’ve been on “tour” or whatever it was he was on while he was gone and Khadijah (yall) was waiting by the phone, or whatever, until Max (the other yalls) told her to move on with her life so she finally did, and I popped up with a boomerang (the first time), and a tired apology the second time, then yall went out to do whatever it was yall was about to do, but then you realized that you loved me even though you was mad at me, so we here now.

Hey boo! * waves and grins * I suppose I have some explaining to do.

Well, things started to get weird when this happened. I thought I was going to be able to bounce back, but then we got stuck in a whole pepperoni pizza, so like nothing was available for any of us. During that time I got some bad news about this dude, and well, for a minute there, I thought we were going to be okay. But he’s with Daddie now, and they're laughing or chillin’ or whatever, but like, they left me here to be great I think?

Hilarious story about that - I’m not. At all. 

Lots of other stuff happened, too. Ain't enough words to cover it in one post (oh, we are about to have a time this year, get your subscribe and save amazon snacks ordered). But it feels like enough is enough, so I’m back.

Of everything that I learned, I discovered that I’m an alien. Crazy right? I’m an Anthean, from lightyears away. I came here because my world was ending, and there were answers here for me to find in order to save it. And if you haven’t caught on, I’m talking about The Man Who Fell To Earth type alien, and not Earth is Ghetto type alien (but it is, and I wanna). And me. I’m mostly talking about me.

I’ve been watching this masterpiece of a series, starring K. Faraday and Justin Falls over and over, because it’s the first mirror that I’ve looked into, reflecting something that makes sense to me, about me. It’s also how the Ancestors have been getting through to me. I hear the words my father has been desperately trying to tell me. I see who I was and who I’ve been and who I’m destined to be, if I just agree to be a scientist again or something. You have to watch it. Like now. Chiwetel Ejiofor and Naomie Harris deserve all the past, present, and future things for this. Absolutely brilliant performances from them - and the cast!

But back to the Happy New Year.

At work, our leader asks about our word for the year. A tactic many people are using these days because the resolutions weren’t resoluting, but were they ever? Last year my word was somewhere between Love and Me. I spent the year trying to get the “and” out of the way and it was difficult and unfinished. I’ve been having a hard time thinking about what that word is for 2024. The last  time I went searching for a word, I found wounded. Perhaps my word for the year is discovering, and you can help me figure out what word is on the other side of it. 

See, I told you. Get your snacks ordered.