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Through…..(Part 2)


“Stef, yuh ok?”

“I’m here if you need to talk”

“Nah boy you in a real mess! I thought I had issues..YOU have a lifetime subscription!”

“Try yuh best and don’t kill yourself eh”

“Is this a cry for help?”

“I believe you are clinically depressed.”

“Like yuh finally cracking. Don’t go shoot up work eh!”

“You are just ungrateful! You disgust me sometimes.”

“Are you gonna get counselling?”

“Maybe you should take some time off from work?”

“Don’t give up Stefan!”

So…..

I am going out on a limb here and guessing that I scared some people with my last blog post?  Trust me when I say that wasn’t the intention at all. It was meant as form of release.

I had actually written that blog in April, while in Tobago for Jazz.  I was staring at my laptop with my sprained right foot semi-hoisted in the air (well on room balcony), when I decided to write out the thoughts that had been pervading my mind for some time. And boy, did they come rushing out. I hardly have these discussions with other people as for some reason, they judge me harshly. Ignore the fact that when I am listening to their “woe is me diatribe” I don’t comment or even pass judgement. Yet for my brief lapses in judgement when I let people in, they seem to want to “Iyanla Van Zant” or “Dr. Phil”  my ass all into next week.

 

Anyway, so there I was, on the balcony of my room at Crown Point Beach Hotel, overlooking an amazing view of Store Bay and  typing away;  just listing stuff that I needed to have some measure of closure with in my life. As you see from the last blog, the list started off simple with Online Games and then it got really heavy with Love & Marriage. And then, after the first draft was finished and I realised that I had written 7 pages of thoughts….I felt better. My ankle still hurt like hell but I felt better emotionally.

Image

 

And that was the point of the blog. It was my version of therapy. It allowed me to release the demons lurking within, living rent-free and taking up valuable cupboard space and hogging the bathroom with the amount of sh…. that  was coming out of them.

 

For some people, it all good to have these thoughts only in their heads and in some way,they are able to compartmentalize them and deal with them in that same space. Well, it can’t work that way for me. I am a Hoarder in every aspect of the word. Plus I have way too many conversations going on up there for me to try and sort out stuff in the same space as well.

In every aspect of my life, I hold onto stuff and either use it as a crutch and/or  as a happy moment when 10-25 years later, the initial feeling that was associated with the event is no longer there and is replaced with…..nothing but false comfort. I’m like a junkie still trying to remember the first high but i’m never ever able to get it back.

And so I wrote out the pain, anguish and frustration and then I edited it about 15 times. It made me happy to do it. I felt relieved. I had finally gotten those thoughts out of my head and made room for other stuff. .

Posting it as a blog was another matter entirely.

That Wednesday night (May 14th), I had gotten home from work around 7pm and  decided to just listen to music instead of sitting mindlessly in front of the TV.  I put in a George Michael CD in called Symphonica (YES MEH STILL HAVE CDs..SO WHAT????) and started doing stuff around the apartment. The song “Through” came on and the emotion within it seem to envelop the room and me as well. I put the song on repeat and sat down to listen to it a second and third time. Right then and there, the words from the song, gave me my opening and closing quotes for the blog and then came the decision to post it.

As with everything, you are fine with the idea of posting it until you actually press “submit”. That was me. After pressing submit, I exhaled (don’t laugh). Then panic set in.

I think i wrote too much!  

What will people think?

Will they get the humor or think me crazy?

I decided that I would leave the post up for ten minutes and if no one commented within that time, I would take it down. One minute passed and Ian Reid commented on it and…

”FRAAAHNNNNCE!!!!!!!!!!” Even more panic set in… He didn’t see the humor!… Ok I can handle this.

By midnight, I had received four phone calls and numerous text messages; some complimentary. but most in a panic, worrying if i was about to commit suicide…

Suicide? Really? Me? .

If the “Titanic sized” level of “horn” and absolute betrayal that I have experienced in my many years on this planet hasn’t driven me to kill myself, I doubt me not wanting to sing or act or giving a damn about relationships would drive me suicide. I can barely swallow pills and I act like a baby if i get a paper cut. Let’s not even delve into hanging as my Boy Scout knots aren’t that good. If there is death by chocolate, or me drowning in cake or paratha with curried beef, then we can talk. Other than that, I will suffer the humiliation and the judgemental stares and looks and move on as I always do. No one is beating me that easily!

 

God has blessed me so many times in my life, who am I to bitch and moan about having no love life or with having no singing or acting career. Ummm in case you didn’t know, God sent me to Germany when I was 30 to do the Lion King and i think if that isn’t validation of His Love for me, then I honestly don’t know what is……

There are tonnes of stuff that I haven’t given up on :

  • Friendships (true friends never die..the number of people I know will diminish),
  • Photography – despite my inability to use or understand  Photoshop
  • My God Children – Sigh they have the most amazing parents and yet still they have time for me
  • My Family – People who are crazier than I am
  • Me….I still love this toolum colored person like hog love mud.

Come now, the little big lip, broad nose kid from Laventille never ever contemplated all the stuff and places that he would do and visit and my journey isn’t over yet.

So, I wrote this blog to let you know that I’m ok. Don’t you worry your head about me. I’ll be fine.

And to my haters out there that seem to read EVERYTHING I write and then have a meeting about how pathetic I  am… Thanks……You mean the world to me…..

Image

I’m a be OK,
I’m a be OK,
I’ll survive, I’ll be fine, I wont cry, no way
I’m a be OK,
I’m a be OK,
Don’t you talk, I’ll move on…..

 
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Posted by on May 17, 2014 in Emotions, Uncategorized

 

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Words……


Saturday afternoon saw me in a slight panic as the girl who normally operates the lights for the show was a no-show due to “domestic problems”. She’s only 21 and I decided not to ask what the hell that could mean (nor did I really care).

Anyway, I stare at the lighting board and I am praying for the Lord to give me “Sight beyond sight” to understand this contraption that she operates. Thankfully she left the notes to all her lighting cues and the precise levels each light should be at so my mind started to ease a bit.

Normally I am the one calling lighting and sound cues while she just executes my orders. It is not power trip but feels like you are creating a moment of magic when the two coincide and the stage looks amazing.

I digress (as usual)…..

I am going through her notes and I stumble across a word that I didn’t understand.

INTIMITION

HUH? What is that?

 Is this a cue I am missing?

No, it can’t be.

Sound cues are letters and Light cues are numbers.

So what does this mean?

I looked over at my condensed note version of the show to see if it would make sense. And there it was…..

PAGE

ACT –

SCENE

CUE

COUNT

MOVE

Sound /Light

NOTES

35

1-4

26

x6

FTB

End of Scene

Floods to full. Corridor light only

35

1-4

J

 

 

Wade in the Water

 

 

 

INTERMISSION

 

No you are not going crazy and nor am I.

That is exactly how she spelt the word. Please know that it was written very neatly and there appeared to be no hesitation by the writer of the word to putting it down.

I showed a couple of people what she wrote and I was going to take a pic of it and I was advised that I have humiliated enough people on my blog already with pics, so I need to let this one go.

The Director said, “Well maybe she wrote it down the way she pronounced it.”

I concurred.

Then I told the director the story abut the girl who tried to add me to Facebook and her middle name/alias was “Lianess”.   She laughed but we both found the trend disturbing.

Is it that no one bothers to learn how to spell in this day and age? Is it that the new generation prefers to abbreviate everything and every word to make excuses for the inability to spell?

Granted, I know some people that despite their numerous degrees, can’t spell to save their lives but at least they still find it easy to ask someone the spelling of a word before writing it down (or make their handwriting slightly illegible so that one cannot determine the exact series of letters being used).

How do we fix this problem? How do we help our young people speak properly and in turn write and spell at an adequate level?

Look at the conversation below that came up on my FB feed once. This people are over 25 (That’s all I will say).

An FB Conversation:

FL: A we have a deul.

AT: lol wait na i nuh home yet like half 9

AT: yeah yuh dey awa pull tru

FL:  vybes

AT: name or GTFO

FL: 2011ink

AT:host or GTFO

AT: dogfacekillah btw lol

FL: aight i host

AT: accept or GTFO

AT: wam dan

FL: yh so lik my aunt gangster me for my shit

——————

If that conversation makes sense to you then I think you have a career in linguistics or I am just getting really old. After seeing it, I quickly checked how one of these people  actually became my friend on Facebook and when I realised why, I shook my head and said….sigh Family…Can’t kill dem

What are we to do when a simple phrase like “It’s no a problem” or “No Problem” is replaced by No Scene  or No Seen (depending on where you went to school).

And what is this stupid new thing about adding “–ment” to the ends of words. Sleepments, Workments, Beachments (I am sure they use a “Z” instead of an “S” but my old brain can’t wrap around those concepts as yet).

Can someone help me here?

OH Yeah I forgot..

The Director, who is an accomplished Stage Manager and a Jack of ALL Theatre Trades, worked the lights that night while I just concentrated on the sound board and calling the cues. Disaster averted.

Prayers answered.

 
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Posted by on October 31, 2011 in RANT, Uncategorized

 

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This Christmas


I had a good Christmas Day. It wasn’t at all what I expected and I was really happy about it. My initial feeling about Christmas Day was not a nice one. My sister had announced to me a week before the day that they were coming to my apartment to celebrate Christmas. Huh? What? When? Who? Why? I didn’t understand how a decision to come to MY apartment could be made without me being consulted.  Then again, my mother knew that I wouldn’t object to the decision once it had been made. I would hem and haw but still allow the event to take place.

 

What followed afterwards was a series of reminders being sent to me by my mother on:

1.      The Guest List

2.      The Lunch Menu

3.      Dessert Menu

 

I instructed everyone that I would be providing dessert, so everything else had to come from them. There was no objection. (Hmm how strange!)  I also informed my mother that I would not be picking up any relatives to transport them to my apartment since I would be too busy preparing for everyone’s arrival. No objection either. (Hmm something is up)

 

It has been years that my mother has been threatening me with spending Christmas Day at my apartment but somehow it never seems to materialize. Now, all events leading up to the big day seemed to have been planned and I had absolutely no excuse for not being ready for the day.

 

Christmas Eve Afternoon met me at my apartment wrapping gifts (well not really wrapping but placing them in small bags with kite paper being used to cover the item. I swear this is the best thing ever thought up to avoid wrapping presents). I got a call around 5pm from my mom asking if I had drinking glasses for everyone. I gulped. No I didn’t. Despite being an adult, I owned very little drinking glasses (two actually) since I NEVER entertained at my apartment. My apartment has loads of plastic cups (most tastefully done).  I am clumsy, and I knock things down constantly. In my first apartment I had bought myself a set of nine glasses. They all broke, I either dropped them while  taking them out of the closet or kicked one or two of them across the living room because I forgot where I had placed them after meal or after entertaining guests in the past.  After these broke, and I spent hours looking for the missing pieces, I vowed to stop entertaining and to only use plastic cups. It had worked so far.

 

Anyway I digress, I panicked. I told her that I didn’t own much glasses and that I had no intention of going into a mall at this late hour to be stuck in traffic etc. She agreed on it and promised to buy me some for Christmas. (Disaster averted). She then informed me that seven people will be having lunch with me on Christmas Day.

 

“SEVEN? Seven? People…who pickney allyuh bringing?”

“Oh, your aunt wants to come along and your sister and your brother are bringing their respective people.”

“Steups,, they don’t have families to harass? And…ummmm.. one more person is missing.

“Well my old school friend is in the country for Christmas and I invited her as well”

(SILENCE…)

“Stef…..Stefan you still there?”

Yes, I am here. Ok. It’s fine but I did not buy any presents for those extra people “

“ Ha ha ha ha Ok Stefan it’s fine.”

 

There was mild panic within me. That the number was way too much for my apartment to hold and for me to control. I suddenly realized that people would be wandering around (especially my aunt) and even though I have nothing to hide in my apartment, there are some things that I just don’t want people touching.

 

Then another revelation came: I would have to let people use the bathroom in my bedroom as well. Given the number of people coming and the amount of drinks I had on ice. ..sigh… that meant keeping a watchful eye on the snoopers. “THIS is too much work”, I thought to myself

 

I thank my lucky stars that my housekeeper had been in my apartment days before, so it was very presentable for general public viewing. I just had to pack my magazines neatly and keep my CD collection locked away in my wardrobe, just in case one of my siblings’ significant others wanted to touch them, soil them or (gulp) have me burn them a copy of something.

 

So much needed to be done now. I had to make a list. Would there be enough time? Is it too late to get a flight out of the country? Why don’t I watch Home& Garden, they prepare you for this type of thing!!! It was official. I felt like an old woman trying to hide her best china from the invading grandchildren.

 

I went to bed tried that night and I still knew I had lots of stuff to do.  The list in my mind however, was simple one and it didn’t occur that I should’ve made a last minute run to a supermarket. Oh wait, I did at 7pm and found 3 of the 4 in the area closed and the other one causing traffic for a mile. Somehow in my mind, I thought that supermarkets would open on Christmas Day and that I  would get the stuff then.

 

I jumped out of sleep Christmas morning when I realized that eight people were going to be eating at my house and I didn’t have enough knives and forks for the event. I have a nice blue handled utensil set. It contains 4 of everything. This of course does nothing since I need utensils for 4 extra people.  I rushed out of my house.

 

Nowhere is open. The road is clear. There is not even a stray dog or vagrant in sight. I am alone on the road except for a few cars and three men eating doubles in St. James. I spot a Pharmacy and it was open but this yields no assistance as they don’t have utensils.  I called a friend in desperation for assistance and I was grateful that she was going by her parents for lunch so I borrowed her utensils for the event.  I apologized so much for being that neighbour that had to borrow stuff at this last minute. She just laughed at my silliness as she called it.

 

I was relieved. Everything else was just about ready , I now had the extra knives and forks and all would be fine. While I am driving back home, my friend Matthew calls me from Geneva to wish me Merry Christmas, and I inform him on what my day is going to look like. I am boasting that I am fully prepared now. He then puts his friend Yinca on and then she asked me one something simple question: “do you have enough utensils for dessert as well?”. My car slowed to a crawl at this point, as all was lost. A simple thing like spoons for ice cream and cake went ignored. I thanked her for her help but at this point, I was going to use what I had and make it do.

 

I got back to the house and the race began. I set up the dining room table, put fruit into a nice bowl, brought out the cakes so that they would be room temperature when lunch was over and placed utensils and the like all strategically around the table. Too bad the plates did not match with anything. No biggie. I am a bachelor…this is expected of me.

 

My mom calls at 11am to announce that lunch will be minus 3 persons. No aunt or significant others.(YES!!! Jesus loves me, my CDs are safe!! Malicious macos reduced tenfold).  I was relaxed now and ready for their arrival.

 

They came at 12:30pm and everything moved really smoothly. We took dishes out of the car and I set them up on the table. Some things needed to be heated and that was done and we were on our way to lunch an hour later.

 

Lunch passed without incident and everyone felt relaxed in my apartment. My mother’s friend kept munching on the almonds I put out and even though she had a hearty meal, she took up the bowl of almonds and sat in front of my television set only to fall asleep in 5 minutes.

 

Gifts were exchanged and conversations throughout the day were extremely lively and at one point in time there was not a dry eye in the apartment as I related to them my paranoia over preparing for today.  My mother doesn’t know where I get this streak from? Hmmm strange how she can’t remember BEATING it into me as I was growing up.

 

Dessert came much later and consisted of two types of cake, (a Bunt Cake and Fruit Cake) along with ice cream. Everyone was satisfied and well filled up.

 

I kept monitoring the wares in the sink as I am not a fan of washing them, but all seemed under control. When they decided to leave around 6pm, my mother wanted to leave every dish, container and bowl she had brought filled with food for me to eat for the next two months. I packed some of it away in my containers and got them to take the rest home. It was a bit of a fight but I managed to convince her that I would just come up home for more food should I run out. (Yeah Right, I made sure I had enough stuffing to last me for a long time,  no need to go for replenishment).

 

All in all a good day was had by all and everyone complemented me on making them feel relaxed in my apartment. It was certainly my pleasure.

 

Oh I can’t find my bowl with the almonds anywhere……….

 
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Posted by on December 29, 2008 in Holidays

 

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