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Day 15 – Un-pausing To Get the Family in Order

Soul…

You have to forgive me. THE SUN HAS HAD HER HAT ON (yes the sun is a SHE not a HE cos no there’s absolutely no way a man would be this emotional, mood swingy and temperamental).

DRAMATIC SIDENOTE ABOUT THE SUN AND ITS HAT: it has come to my attention that THE SUN HAS GOT HIS HAT ON a song which we all tra-la-laaaa’d as children is a racist song…I mean are we not safe from anything!? CLICK HERE for the lyrics!!!

As I was saying…

I’ve been outside. I’ve been soaking up the sun. I’ve been admiring the candy (of which at my age, it’s not so much candy, but, rather an assortment of traditional toffees) …and I’ve been swinging me twists tryna reclaim my sexy…

Yes Soul, I got tempted, I got mermaid-itis.  I had to add  some length so I could flick, flick, shake and  whip!  But after a day of whippin’ too hard I’m considering taking them out cos the back of my hair’s still a tad short and the other day in the office The Letchy Boss made a joke about ropes and snakes whilst twisting one of my fallen out twists through his hands. Let’s not dwell…

ANOTHER, SIDENOTE: I am wondering with the heat wave how those who’ve got 300 pounds of brazillian mermaid on their heads are coping. SOUL…weave  need a revolution! I’ll say no more!

So okay, I’ve not been communicating. This diary keeping is hard! I HAVE A LIFE YOU KNOW. I’m sorry. I know I’m making excuses but This Is England and when the sun’s out I beg! Allow me blud! Also in amongst me soaking up the sun, I’ve been in concert therapy…YOU.KNOW.WHY!

So…where was I? What’s been happening…erm…well…okay!  I said I was gonna get the siblings round to deal with their nonsense.

Yes…So I called…

…we’re the closest out of my siblings because she’s the only one who ‘gets’ it…when I say ‘it’ I mean she’s the one who gets what it is to be African, British, Caribbean, African American, Westernized…

See cos, there’s a way, a being, when you’re not English, (meaning white) yet (British meaning it’s on your passport). Especially when you have a strong culture behind your Britishness…be it African, Caribbean, Indian, Asian etc. etc.

Quick culture analysis: Mum and Dad, Ghanaian. Born there, raised there, speak  the language, eat the food, dress the attire, exude every traditional Ghanaianism you could think of. Came to England in their early 20’s with hopes and dreams of gold pavements and trees laden with £1 leaves only to realise…

But regardless of the hatred, they battled down and became a community amongst the other unwanted ethnics and thus Brixton, Harlseden, Peckham etc. were born…ahem.

All well and good, but then instead of saving up to go back home as was professed, they stayed, and stayed and had children and stayed. The children at first were just carbon copies of their cultural parents carrying forth the traditions of home.

But then the children started mixing with other children who were the children of, white’s, Caribbean’s, Asians (the brown and the yellow). They watched TV and saw African Americans and decided…being African wasn’t cool… (you Afrobeats youts of today just don’t know). So they adapted.  So they rebelled. So they answered back. So they slammed  doors. So they they threatened to call Childline. So they became westernized. So African parents all over Great Britain,  my parents (well mostly my mum) included, cried into their pastors collection plates and lamented the plight of the African child. No Band-Aid or Bob Geldof!

My other sis…

…lived in Ghana until she was 20 and when mum and dad brought her here,  the only way she knew how to fit in was on her knees! I’m sorry Soul she’s such a…  As soon as she was pregnant with 1 out of 4 (maybe 5  (I need to call my mum) of my nephews) she left home, got a hostel, then a flat, then a sugar daddy and  hardly looked back.

My brother…

…wasn’t around, as you know he was sent home to become a born again Ghanaian. So it was Me and Roberta who became the ‘English’ ones. Me and Roberta who had to defend each other when mum would rant about our hair, our clothes, our SLANG! (Oh gosh the day we dropped our ING’S was the day we couldn’t sit down for a week)… Anyway we were really close…until she decided to go to Uni and become a confused soul…

But when times get really desperate, Roberta is the one sibling I can kinda get through to…that is, if she’s not out at a gay club with her Muslim boyfriend.

I called her. She said she’d come round to mine with the other two at 7pm tonight. It’s 11:23pm …and  all I’ve done is wait,  over eat, shave my belly hairs, and fill in the gaps where twists have dropped out. Let’s not DWELL!

SOMETIMES I HATE MY SIBLINGS.

I ALSO HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT MARCUS! HE CAME ROUND! WE’VE BROKEN UP

Ebs xxx

I will  do better. I promise

Hip Hop on Trial (Soul Pages Archive Part 3 – Music Money and Hip Hop Honey’s)

…SIGH, EXHALE, EYES ROLLING ALL THE WAY OVER TO THE LEFT and then right, MAJOR FAIL!!!

The sweet wide-eyed OMG innocence of the presenter Nel Hedayat who took us on a journey through the world of Hip Hop and Honey on BBC3 last night had I and alotta my BB Messenger mates, and Twitterati tweeps kinda incensed at the slaphazzard way this documentary put all our biznizz in the streets…

Music Money and Hip Hop Honey’s did cover all bases from sexism, racism, stereotype, assault, stupidity, ignorance, nonsensical-ness, and noses ;)

Nothing we didn’t already know…Hip Hop videos on occasion exploit women, don’t pay all the girls very well, is controlled by sex hungry men, and it’s highly unlikely a chick is gonna make PEES being a video chick, especially in the UK. We knew this.

So why did the program annoy me? Possibly because, and this always happens so maybe I shouldn’t have been bothered, but whenever a topic which is close to my world is covered by the mainstream, it tends to be trivialised and made to look trashy and one dimensional. Am I being to snooty? Did I want it to have classical music in the background and in-depth scholastical disscussions debated over tea and scones peppered with long words and experts  adding their yah’s and I say’s? Possibly…

Cos it maybe would have been better than having Digital Dan representing all that is wrong with cultural mixing – his stereotypical exaggerated depiction of what it is to be a ‘non-black urban rudebwoy’ I dunno, whatever that thing, is, Digi Dan does,  hurt my feelings immensely! I geddit when you grow up in it and around it, but when you become  a parody of it…just…can’t…cope!

And then another crossover – Tashi the, ‘was she white/Mediterranean/Jewish?’ rich girl with an attention seeking nose (it’s not me…the Tweeters were going in on the nose last night)

Tashi who strived to be top biatch video chick had somewhat deluded herself  into believing her style of wearing nothing in a video was more high class than  the other chick who wears nothing in a video. Why? Because Tashi wore an all in one bikini, and NOT an all in one THONG erm bikini…get the difference???!!! She also had aspirations of being an artist……………………………………………………………………………………………………

In contrast to high flying Tashi, you had China BlackRozina and single mum Sherice (let’s not forget she’s a single mum), the black aspiring video chicks, who had yet to find fame or a pay-check even though China definitely fit the light-skinned pretty criteria, Rozina DEFINITELY had that ass that wouldn’t quit, and Sherice seemed to be about her business and she did manage to fall into a lead role in a minor video…(and let’s not forget she’s a single mum)…(I stress because she was introduced as SINLGE MUM SHERICE on more than one occasion)

The presenter spoke to UK artists K.I.G Family about their opinions about video girls…which made some of the members of K.I.G come across rather dim, but did highlight the fact that as much as artists want and need hot chicks in their videos, they somehow still look on them like they’re trash to be handled anyhow, spoken to like dogs and treated like prostitutes…

Nel even got to go to the states to speak to Angel Lola (one of  Hip Hop and R&B’s top video chicks), Casting agents, and experts in the US music industry who commented on the double standards and on the flip-side the extreme monetary potential of being a top video chick in the Hip-Hop world!!

All very insightful…So why was I agitated…possibly because this is a very big subject, which cannot be relegated to a fluff university piece by a presenter who…EXHALE!

Hip Hop which automatically makes you think of America, has signed sealed and delivered the fact that to be a rapper in a video you need chicks with big titties and massive attack backsides to propell your image of superfantastic king of all women to the masses! Nothing new.

Fwd to always a day late UK (love you, but you know we later than late itself) and our recent boom in musical popularity, where there is now a black music scene which has enough members to actually be called a scene, and dreams of reaching mini P.Diddy success is not so much a dream, more an almost possible reality. Which in turn means the UK video / glamour chick industry is growing rapidly with everyone and their cousin starting up an agency, promising the hottest UK girls around.

But the problem with the UK adopting/copying the style of our US cousins is that we copy errythang from the wrong to the right to the damaging! (Think gang wars!!! British Bloods and Crip crews highly unnecessary but actually exist!!!) And in regards to our video girls, well, they’re not as refined as our US sistrens.

Where our US sistrens won’t dare to leave their homes without their lace front freshly didded, nails polisheded, outfit namebrandeded, heels high-erm-heelededededed!!!

UK girls are lacking when it comes to having a  business mind. UK ‘Hip Hop Honeys’ don’t have their A-game in the forefront. They don’t think of themselves as a business. They will leave their homes with less than a weave, unfinished nails, and although it’s not about name brands, it is highly important your clothes cannot be called out as being from ‘insert hood name’ market. It’s not fair but law of the hot chick land!!!

SINGLE MUM SHERICE seemed a bit bemused that she’d fallen into the role of main girl in the K.I.G video. Shouldn’t that have been her game plan from the get go?

China had been on the scene for a year, nip tucking herself into perfection…could be right, but if she hasn’t been promoting herself 100% all that money spent on un-flattening her bits will be money oh so wasted…

Rozina seemed a bit more head focussed and determined, taking her and the back-off to the states, but then she got the BIG slap in her face for being too dark-skinned…

Which as a darkskinned sister I felt, because it’s another negative ideal which we’re adopting over here. Video chicks darker than cocoa butter need not bother, and if they do, please move to the back so HoneySugarCaramel can get to the front. Which is why ‘White/Meditarranean/Jewish’ Tashi’s perception of being better than the other chicks, is one encouraged by what’s deemed as acceptable in black music videos today…Light to White need only apply, even if your nose is like that of an anteater!!!

It’s a mixed bag of emotions I’ve always felt when watching ‘our’ videos…Like, see, I never wanted to be viewed as a piece of meat,  or a hoe who would jump on the Magic Stick, live in many Area Codes, and Lick IT like a Lollipop, but I DO want to be ALLOWED to be a hoe who will jump on the Magic Stick, live in many Area Codes, and Lick IT like a Lollipop. Just to prove a point.

An ongoing issue that ‘we’ don’t allow ourselves to talk about…is why can’t the main chick in a video be dark-skinned? The UK is worse, because artists are casting every other raced girls over black girls especially if they coffee-like! FACT no other music genre disses themselves in such an extreme way than black music! And as a lover of Hip Hop…can  a darkie  get to Throw it In The Bag…at least once?

(yes noted the irony after the rant, that Buffie is indeed dark-skinned…but proves my point that Yes We Can!)

The mis-conception of UK video girls that they’ll make it as big as Buffie the BodyAmber Rose, or Angel Lola is a great one. The UK music scene is not big enough to support artists and their video chicks! Artists are barely eating off their tiny record deals let alone you the girl who shakes her booty for a living!

Take note…EstelleIdris ElbaJay-SeanSophie Okenedo anyone from the UK trying to do big things in the creative industry end up emigrating!

Unless you have your 100% game head on, you will fail in the UK industry, and if you think you can just sashay over to the states without putting in the ground work you will get eaten alive!!!

So, my end point is…No BBC3 this is a very big subject, don’t do that again, you gonna cover a topic like this handle it with care,  you know we’re sensitive.

And word to my aspiring UK Glamour/video girls be on your A-Game at all times, don’t expect to get PAID if the artist still lives in the block next to yours. Don’t expect to be getting PAID if you haven’t negotiated with the agent, lead artist, leader of the pack before you make your way down to the shoot.  Don’t keep showing up at every single low budget video shoot going, cos you won’t get PAID if even Channel AKA viewers are bored of you. Do your research. Find out who, what, where, when, why and how…

Ebs xxx

(also BBC3 I’m available for work…And all UK artists…I got a chocolate booty which can clap any choone you puttin’ out there)😉

Hip Hop on Trial (Soul Pages Archive Part 2 – The N-Word @ 02 Wireless Festival 2010)

The N-Word…was used in abundance at this years 02 Wireless Festival at Hyde Park…and as always it perturbed me!

No it wasn’t in attack mode, I wasn’t chased round the park by a crew of shaven headed racists yelling the N word at the top of their lungs…there were too many of US for that to have worked anyway, naw that wasn’t the case…It was the artists, the black ones, the rappers, and me! Even ME, I was guilty of using the N word in front of  The Others!

But it wasn’t my fault, the rappers made me do it. It’s true.  You try rapping along to  N***a What, N***A Who without saying it…okay I know Jay has reworked it to say Jigga What, Jigga Who…but okay what about Aint No N***A, or Dirt off Your Shoulder…check it:

Words: If you’re feeling like a pimp, N***A go on brush your shoulders off…etc. etc.

Now did you see the crowd? As I said there were a lot of brown people there but essentially festivals are predominantly a white people affair. So we had a lot of The Others saying the word N***A too.

And although not said with hatred…is it right?

It’s no secret famous Elders like OprahBill CosbyJesse Jackson and Al Sharpton amongst others have all had something not so positive to say about Hip Hop and it’s derogatory lyrics. The elders say the younger generation especially those pesky rappers, are wrong for allowing the N word amongst other negative terminologies and content to become mainstream!

CLICK HERE to read an article on the subject.

Which then sparked a big debate initiated by BET, called Hip Hop vs. America which tried to tackle negative content and lyrics in hip hop from the rappers point of view…

I think T.I made a strong passionate point in defence of Hip Hop…

50 Cent not so much (only because he trivialised the question put to him, and didn’t answer directly. And  the audience were obviously 50 bitten so giggled at his every joke. But this was three years ago so his opinions may have changed…)

And anyway, although T.I was passionate and had a point, the bigger picture on this debate, is that rap is powerful, rappers are influential, so what they say and do is impressionable. We’ve had, T.I,  and Little Wayne amongst other big name rappers serving jail time whilst enjoying chart topping success…so to say they can’t be responsible for the things they and do and say is a little irresponsible.

But again T.I was right, watch your own damn kids, rappers shouldn’t be responsible for what your children get into and listen to. And 50 in amongst his nonsense, was also right in highlighting the state of politics, politicians and their white collar criminal antics. AND JayZ said it…when he rapped, ‘Scarface the movie did more than Scarface the rapper did to me’ pointing out that Hollywood puts out 100s of movies with questionable content but rarely comes under fire as much as Hip Hop does.

But we can’t ignore the fact that the elders do have a point. People like Jesse Jackson marched for our civil rights back in the day and remember a time when being called a N***A was the worst form of insult. Black people were enslaved and put to work and were called N***A on a daily basis, along with having our human rights denied in a way that people wouldn’t treat animals! So the N word has serious, serious historical negative connotations. We were lynched to the sound of Ku Klux Klanners yelling N***A, it’s not hard to understand why the elders and some of us are pissed at the casual blase use of the word in 2010 (2012)

What about the poor non-brown person who loves hip hop to the point of addiction, but has to watch their ps and N***As in case they offend anyone? They must be tired by the end of certain Hip Hop songs trying to learn the lyrics and edit at the same time. It must be so confusing for them…so I can say N***A when I’m rapping lyrics, but not to my friend on a daily basis, even if I mean it with love, even if my friend says it to me and the rest of us, I can’t say it back because then I’m being racist? I mean how is one to survive! Poor non-brown person.

Overall though, content, responsibility etc. etc. aside. It’s  hard to relax and enjoy JayZ in front of the multi-cultural masses with everybody as one screaming the word N***A all together now, when on a good day, let some Other call me N***A in jest or in hate, I’d kick their f***ing asssssssssssssses.

Can we find another word?

Ebs xxx

Hip Hop on Trial (Soul Pages Archive Part 1 – Rick Ross The Devilish Pied Piper?)

…BALANCING PRECARIOUSLY ON THE FENCE…

I’m MADDENED that I missed most of  the Google live debate which took place last night (Tuesday 26/06/2012) The topic: Hip Hop on Trial: Hip Hop doesn’t enhance society it degrades it…

It didn’t even pass my peripheral…I’ve been in a bubble these past couple months though I must admit! So delayed reaction of praise and hope for this world debating thing Google is attempting.

With legendary Hip Hop stalwarts, advocates and critics including: Estelle, KRS One, dream hampton, Michael Eric DysonCLICK HERE FOR FULL LIST  Hip Hop was up for serious discussion…

As I said I missed most of the debate but from what I saw, peeps were getting heated! I caught up with the mood via Twitter post debate and got embroiled in my own tête à tête with other staunch defenders of Hip Hop…

Not to say I don’t love Hip Hop. Not to say I don’t think Hip Hop is to be blamed for the world’s ills and although I didn’t watch the whole debate, I do think the title/question it was orchestrated under: Hip Hop doesn’t enhance society it degrades it… was too broad a stroke to debate under. Not all Hip Hop is degrading, so it’s not fair to tar everyone with the same brush…

BUT there are some areas of Hip Hop, and unfortunately/suspiciously it’s this type of Hip Hop which dominates the charts which has not helped ‘our’ image…from the insertion of the Nword into modern common language, to Misogyny which has contributed to the recklessness of relationships,  to Criminal glorification and validation of being a hustler and the Bitch, Goldigging, Hoeification of black women…

RICK ROSS IN CONCERT – DEVILISH PIED PIPER???? – Soul Pages Archive from 2010

Ricky Rawwssss is the new Bawsss of Hip Hop…even after all the battling with beef fetishist 50 Cent, and the reveal that Rick used to be a correctional officer, he’s still managed to become hood-popular with his very special brand of Maybach Music!

Even me…I used to frown down my lil square nose at Rick’s street laced style…but he’s got me, the beats, the rawness, the thuggery, that hood bad- man from round the way loving it so I love it too-ness of it all…and it’s bittersweet! Cos I’m not supposed to love it! I’m supposed to only love the concious back-pack Hip Hoppers who rap about the revolution and…skateboarding…HELP ME!

I went to the Rick Ross concert last night @ Hammersmith Appollo…and from the outside, it was apparent this was gonna be one of those nights!!!

Police vans, angry security guards, young youts with no tickets but determined to get in, guest list all squashed up and pushy! No searching!!!

Way beyond my grown ‘I don’t do this anymore! It aint 1993 damnit’ stance, but yet I stayed, got my ‘MY NAME IS ON THE LIST’ on,  met my homegurl, then went upstairs.  Looked down on the masses of people of which there were a lot, and proceeded to get my ROWDY THUG ‘BOW THROWING dance on waiting for the man to come on stage…and then he did, in a damn fur suttin’ coat! Causing everyone including my grown self to ack da fool!

What is the appeal? Guttah dutty lyrics, talking about nothing but drugs, guns, murder, and badman-ness! WHY DO I LOVE IT!?

I’m a grown woman! I have no business talkin’ bout ‘I THINK I’M BIG MEECH!’

There was even a younger yout’ with his pops in there! WHY!??

I remember going to 50 Cents first UK concert @ Wembley… (I hated 50 Cent when he first came out cos I was so angry with his street promotion lyrics) so I went to the concert so I could cuss him legitimately…It was scary…the cultish effect he had on the crowd, spitting his dirty lyrics word for word for word! And I remember seeing young kids with their parents, white and black…I couldn’t tell who would be more damaged…the young black kid who will struggle to steer away from crime as he gets to his teens, or the young white kid who grows up with a stereotypical view of what it is to be a black man…

Same thing at a Jay-Z concert…even though he’s got his grown man on, he’s still for the streets, he just hides his shit with clever wordplay…and don’t get me started on the illuminati rumours, I kinda hesitate whenever he tells the crowd to throw up the Roc sign…call me superstitious!

And the trick of the Rick Ross concert was that it was the first time, in a very long time, that I felt like I was at a true hip hop concert…(I missed the Redman & Method Man concert the other day – I know that would also have captured the spirit) Rick Ross was dark, it was crowd deep…and filled with chest slapping hip hoppers, who spat the lyrics like they wrote them theyselves! (Me included)

I miss this! Back in the nineties…when hiphop was small, and we only went to Kentish Town Forum, Hammersmith Palais and other small venues, to see Wu-TangNaughty By NatureSnoop/Dre & the Dog PoundBone Thugs N HarmonyCraig Mack…the list goes on…small intimate and underground.

But since Hip Hop has become the new pop…it’s selling out big arenas and has become multicultural…and okay yeah, make those P’s but damn I miss the old dayze!

I went to Snoop’s first concert @ Brixton academy after he dropped the Doggystyle album. Him, Dre, Rage et al…everyone wearing TimbsCarhartt, and bandanas… all Hip Hop heads all good…fwd to 2000-and something, went to a Snoop concert…I think in the same place…there wasn’t a Timberland in sight, and I felt like the minority!

But as usual I digress…Rick Ross concert ended with a fight, apparently someone got stabbed, and I saw a guy outside, topless with blood all over him. Which rounded up the night neatly!

Hip hop came from the streets, and as much as it evolves there’s no escaping who makes it, who loves it and who it’s for!  Ricky Rawwssss is most deffo the Da Bawsss…but after wilding out at a very rowdy hip hop concert, I have to put my mummy hat on and say! Stop the madness!? Rick’s lyrics….Live Fast, Die Young…NONSENSE I don’t want to die young! And Mr Ross, you were a damn correctional officer not Scarface (the character, not the rapper)!

For all those saying rappers like Rick Ross and the rest are for the streets, speaking the truth…FYI…once a rapper makes his first million…most times they stop being real and about the streets…cos living in a mansion isn’t hood…and if they continue to rap about the hood and hard knock life they no longer live…then they’re just exploiting your plight and suffering to ensure they never have to return to them streets you say they rep so hard!

(It’s so difficult loving hip hop sometimes…but I do so very, very, very, much!:)

Ebs xxx

Day 14 – The Rest of My Life

Ok so today I feel like not mentioning it. At all.

At work Cassie and I worked responsibly, and quietly and maturely.  Then The Letch made me angry when he called me into his office to watch some footage we filmed for this new documentary based on the lives of four young aspiring rappers from North West London.

He started off well…saying that he knew I wanted to get into  producing and get involved more. So he said getting this documentary finished would be my pet project. My test to see if I had the skills to move on up. So of course my mind jumped for joy, and I started thinking about what I would do, who I would speak to etc. Then The Letch went and put his lecherous foot in it.

Yep, he mentioned the word ‘Urban‘ about 50,20,thousand times. He also chose Cassie  as my assistant, (when Bob the editor knows more about the world of British Urban (burn the word urban in reference to black stuff by the way), than I do.)  He also brushed off the importance and originality of a documentary about four up and coming British rappers from Harlesden by saying there was no budget and no potential interest it’s ‘just’ a project, also adding…NO I couldn’t dip into the big budget of the main project he was leading, about ‘The Rise and Fall and Rise of  The Boy Band’. Because we need all hands on deck for that one, cos the main stations will probably jump to pick it up, but it’s all really because The Letch wants  to schmooze with stars and then name drop them at us during meetings!

AGITATING.

But I kept schtum, I smiled, I held my notebook over my bum as I left his office. The bastard still managed to comment on the label of my jeans being the same as his anorexic, bimbo of a girlfriends.

PERVERT.

So anyway after telling Cassie  about the surprising turn of events, I got excited again, cos well so what if my boss doesn’t care. I care and the whole point to this is that I’ve been offered a glimmer oh hope, from the oh so tight and un-glimmery letch. Cassie  said that even though she would love to help, I should still go and speak to Bob, cos Bob is not like The Letch. Bob is that cool white dude who can go to a club and be the only white guy in a sea of black, and still remain the same cockney hippie type…

And not feel the need to get all…

I like Bob we reminisce about getting night buses home from Jungle  raves back in the day…And he always says things like you’re so sweet like a Moomin Ebs…and although I found the Moomin  petrifying as a younster …I know Bob means it in the sweetest way…hmm.

Oh and during the last part of my lunch break David  phoned me, and he did that damned annoying thing that he does, of knowing about things without me having to tell him…he should have been a girl…anyway he rang and asked me how I was doing in light of things…

and I was like ‘bloody fine matey’….

and he was like…’don’t lie’

and I was like… ‘I’m not lying’

and he was like…’yeah okay then!!!’

In that roll your eyes and purse your lips kind of way…which got me angry and made me go into the high octave voice even though I wasn’t faking it out and I shouted… ‘I AM FINEEEEEEEEEEEE gossssssssssh…’

and he laughed and was like… ‘it’s cool, I understand, I’m comin’ round this week…’

and I laughed and said…‘okay.’

So with the new project boost and David, and even though it is only Week Three in the Big Brother house of knowing that my EX is marrying a WHITE GIRL by the end of the day I felt like…SO EFFING WHAT!!!

I rang mum today as well. Well I can’t actually claim child superiority, it was her call I missed the other morning. I didn’t even need to pass on the message from dad, because she just went into one…

’YOUR DAD GETS ON MY LAST BLOODY NERVE. HE HAD THE CHEEK TO RING ME AND ASK ME TO SPEAK TO AGNES BECAUSE HE SAW HER OUT IN THE PUB WITH ONE OF DONALD WYNTER’S SONS…’

My sister, Agnes, Big Sister 1 is such a slut!…

Mum continued, ‘SO WHAT THE HELL IS HE TELLING ME FOR, AND WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR DAD STILL DOING IN THE PUB ALL THE DAMN TI…’

I agree. I mean really dad…

‘THAT’S WHY I HAD TO LEAVE HIM, EVERYBODY THINKS IT’S MY FAULT, EVERYONE ALWAYS THINKS IT’S ROSE’S FAULT. AND AS FOR THAT BLOODY GIRL I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL SHE’S GOING TO DO BECAUSE IF SHE GETS PREGNANT AGAIN I AM NOT LOOKING AFTER IT….

To which I roll my eyes cos she will and she does and is always looking after Agnes’ kids…

‘AND AS FOR THAT OTHER SISTER OF YOURS, I HEARD SHE MOVED IN WITH THAT MUSLIM. WHEN GOD COMES FOR HER SHE BETTER NOT STAND NEXT TO ME ON DAY OF JUDGEMENT BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO GET NONE OF HER FIRE…’

…and then I walked into the kitchen to dig around in the fridge for a smashing excellent M&S syrupy sponge microwave pudding because I needed sugar to protect my senses from mums bitter tirade…especially when it gets all religiony,

‘BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I KEEP TELLING YOU, IF YOU LOT DON’T MAKE IT TO CHURCH EVERY SUNDAY. I CAN’T SAVE YOU ALL. AND CAN YOU BELIEVE MY SON, MY ONLY SON SAW ME LAST WEEK DRAGGING MY SHOPPING AND JUST DROVE PAST ME.’

…now that got me angry…I really need to have a word with my brother…he needs to understand it wasn’t just him!

‘ANYWAY I’M NOT GOING TO KEEP YOU. YOU OKAY? MARTHA TOLD ME THAT SHE HEARD THAT THAT BOY OF YOURS IS GETTING MARRIED TO A WHITE GIRL. SEE I KEEP TELLING YOU IF YOU DON’T RELAX THAT HAIR, OR GET A NICE WIG LIKE THAT GIRL ON THE TELEVISION…WHAT’S HER NAME?’

Beyonce I mime into my pudding. 

‘BAYYONCEEE, THAT GIRL SHE’S SO PRETTY AND YOU SEE. I TOLD YOU TO STOP BEING SO RADICAL. NOW HE’S GONE FOR A WHITE GIRL. YOU KNOW WE’RE NOT AS LUCKY AS THEM SO WE HAVE TO TRY EXTRA HARD…’

…and that’s when I started clearing my throat because my mum is the Kryptonite to my Black Pantherness

‘OKAY, OKAY BYE BYE SWEETIE. NEXT TIME DON’T WAIT TILL THIS LATE TO CALL ME, I’VE NEARLY MISSED ALL OF CORONATION STREET.’

This is why I’m all over the place and living like Back To Front from the Raggy Dolls. I get a job high, then a mum low, and a David high, and then a sibling low…which is tripled cos each and every one of them are choosing not to use the sense God gave them…making me feel like I’m the oldest instead of the ‘sposed to be spoilt and pampered youngest all because they’ve chosen the ‘TROUBLED CHILD’ path…instead of dealing with reality…My life truly is a roller coaster of highs and bloody lows.

So I guess it’s back to this Plan of Action, destination Gratitude…to get married, impregnated, new housed and car’d and erm…I suppose I have to add: Sort My Family Out!

Tomorrow Bob and I are going to sit down and talk shop…AND tomorrow I’m going to call my brother and sisters and order them to get their arses round to mine on the weekend because we have matters to sort!

and that’s that!

Ebs xxx

The EX Left Me For a White Girl Concert – Day Who The Hell Knows!?!

So what? I’ve been gone? So what Soul? SO. EFFING. WHAT! You try continuing life when you’ve just experienced rejection and betrayal of such magnitude you feel baggy and melted like when you take an over-long hot bath that gets so cold that when you come out you look like you’ve just removed a month old body plaster.

I’ve been in the deep like Adele sangs…WE CUDDA HAD IT AAAAALLLLLL…but I couldn’t add her to my concert list cos there’s a conflict of interest…NO SOUL! I think I’m allowed to be a segregationist for a small spell, whilst I get myself back on track!

I’M STAYIN’! I’M STAYIN’ AND YOU, YOU’RE.GONNA.LOVE.ME! YES. YOU.WILL…so what I planned, was that I’d burst into THEIR wedding singing this…wearing the same wig and singing with the same passion, throw myself on the floor, grab a leg…and…

SEE FIRST OF ALL…this was OUR song, cos when WE talked about GETTING MARRIED…WE BOTH used to say WE’D play this choone instead of the wedding march and together down the aisle we’d shuffle, shuffle, side-step, side-step, wop left, wop right, body wave, body wave and laugh with our guests at our wonderfully love filled silliness and then say I DO!… I spose now he’s gonna do a bloody ACHY BREAKY LINE DANCE!

LOVING.YOU.IS.LIKE.A.BATTLE…except only I end up with scars, cos HIS scars will forever be TCP’d by Snow White!

WHY CAN’T WE WORK IT OUT WHY BABY CAN’T WE TRY…actually things have pretty much been a whole lot better for me without HIM in my head holding me back and putting me down It’s a very good thing HE didn’t listen to my begs and pleads when we broke up…but… let’s not dwell on the positive right now eh!

IT’S BEEN 3 WEEKS AND 12 HOURS SINCE YOU TOOK YOUR LOVE AWAY AND GAVE IT TO not me! (Come to think of it HE used to always say Sinead O’Connor was nice for a white gyal…with a sneer as well…THE EFFING q%$£q%£$%q£%$q%$%q£) (AND YES SINEAD IS THE TEMPORARY ENEMY LIKE ADELE…but PRINCE wrote this song…so blah!) …(See how complicated being racist is! SIGH…)

Cos this used to be my ‘In My Head Theme Song For HIM’ whenever I saw HIM and we’d share eyes, and flirty smiles and I used to play this on repeat on my way to work, on my way home from work, when I was tidying up…and then we stopped flirting, and it became real, and then it was love, and then it was confusion, and then it was doubt, and hurt and then it ended

…and when I went to see Fantasia in the Color Purple on Broadway in New York and her end song, her healing song, her come through it all and still here song…became my end song…

LEMME BREAK IT DOWN…

I don’t need you to love me…
I’ve got my sister (HOMEGURLS), I can’t feel her now
She may not be here (YES THEY’RE SOMETIMES BUSY BUT…) but she’s still mine
‘n I know, she still loves me
I’ve got my children, (MY FAMILY) I can’t hold them now
They may not be here, (THEY GET ON MY NERVES BUT…) but they still mine
‘n I know
I know I still love them
Hey
Got my house (SHITTY FLAT BUT…)
It still keeps the cold out
Got my chair
When my body can’t hold out
Got my hands doin things like they s’posed to
Showing my heart to the folks that I’m close to
I got my eyes though they don’t see as far now
They see more ’bout how things really are now

AND NOW THE HEALING…

I’m gonna take a deep breath
Hey!
I’m gonna hold my head up
Gonna put my shoulders back
And look you straight in the eye…
I’m gonna FLIRT with somebody (BUT PROBABLY NOT MARCUS COS I DON’T LOVE HIM OR NEED HIM EITHER…sometimes)
When they walk by
I’m gonna sing out
Sing out yeah

NOTE TO BROKENHEARTED (BLACK ) and GIRLS EVERYWHERE…

I believe I have inside of me
Everything that I need to live a bountiful life
With all the love inside of me
I’ll stand as tall as the tallest tree
And I’m thankful for each day that I’m given
Both the easy and the hard ones I’m livin’
But most of all
Yes I’m thankful for lovin’ who I really am
I’m beautiful
Yes I’m beautiful
And I’m here
Yes you are, you are here…

I allowed my EX to stomp me down, I allowed my EX to rob me of self, I allowed my EX to allow me to believe that I wasn’t worth a penny…and I’ve blamed myself for my EX finding beauty and love in another, allowing me to not see beauty and love in myself.

WHEN you’ve been rinsed, and rubbed, and dragged, and pulled, and pushed, and whipped, and punched and defeated…sing a song of redemption.

NO MORE!

(But just gimme one more week Soul…one…more…week…)

 

Ebs xxx

Day 11 – Too Dark

Okay I’m ready…

So in walked my EX with some friends…I assumed they were friends Soul because there was a cloud of ‘ha ha ha, yeah yeah yeah, did you hear what he said ha ha ha.’ Surrounding his group which loudly disturbed the comfortable camaraderie the existing crowd had, causing everyone to turn and stare at this new hip expensive looking crowd of workmates.

They looked like lawyers after a big case, the way a film would show it. With the case-winning lawyer in the middle of the group being back slapped all the way to the bar with his best co-worker shouting, ‘Get this lucky sonofabitch a drink bar-tender’.

In this case the lucky son-of-a-bitch was my EX, and the backslapper didn’t so much backslap him, rather SHE arm in armed HIM closely and intimately, with the crowd surrounding them as if they had both won…I gasped loudly as my brain kicked into overdrive

Cassie was lost in a Material World so ignored me.

I was shaking internally, and also to the music, trying to enjoy every last drop cos I mean when was I ever gonna get a chance to hear an ’80’s Madonna Medley again?

So I shimmied and stared.

My EX  bought everyone a drink…and whilst all his hip and expensive friends sat down, at a table, exactly three tables away to the right of ours, my EX and his best co-worker, who was a WOMAN, got the drinks in together.

I stopped shimmying and told Cassie I was going to the toilet. Because Soul, I had to see. So I walked purposely past HIM.  But HE didn’t see me. HE never saw me. But I was next to HIM and HE didn’t see me, HE  just paid for the drinks and went to the table with HIS best FEMALE co-worker. Who sat next to HIM and into HIS side and held HIS hand.

Soul.

She had long dyed straight black hair.

Soul.

She had a long swan like neck.

Soul.

She had big Bambi  like blue eyes surrounded by thick fluttery lashes.

Soul.

Her nose was straight and long, and pointed.

Soul…

So I stood and stared and tears burnt by eyes but they didn’t fall yet. Because I needed to see one more thing. I mean power of my female intuition told me something. But I thought… No. Nah. Nah HE wouldn’t, HE couldn’t

Then I felt my jeans pocket vibrating. Took out my phone quickly to see who it was.

It was Marcus.

For the first time I ignored him without lying.

I was busy.

I was trying to see…and hear…and so I heard…

Congratulations man… It was about time man… You lot have been together sooo long… what’s it  been three, four…? Fuckin’ ‘ell now fuckin’ Shelle’s gonna be on my back… Couldn’t you lot have waited a couple years longer.’

And then I saw…them kiss…and giggle…and…

Then the tears  began to spill, I ran to the toilet and cried a lot. In one second. I don’t do crying well Soul, know that about me. I find it tedious.  I find it tedious when I need to cry but can’t.  I find it tedious when I cry dramatically for the wrong reasons like someone being voted out on X-Factor or when a man’s coming over to pleasure me… So tears spilled from my eyes, then they didn’t and then I ducked and dived past THE ENGAGEDS, back to my co-workers. Who were having yet more drinks and wanted me to show them the move that Cassie and me naturally subconsciously came up with. Even in Pop we have God given rhythm.

But I clock watched and Cassie agreed, and we left in haste. They slumped  again. They did Soul!!

I was quiet and said a small bye to Cassie who didn’t get it. But she was cool and she went and that’s why she’s becoming my new best friend because she doesn’t demand my attention like The Girls. She understands that it will come out when I’m ready.

Even though at that precise moment I desperately needed to speak to someone who knew the whole history of EX.

So, Soul I need to totally explain the situ…EX was with A White Girl, not a white girl with a tan, or a white girl with a bit of black.

(Soul I mean a bit of black where she acts black, or has black understanding from school friends, or estate friends or work friends or used to go to Jungle or Garage raves or you know… a bit of black.)

This white girl was white. With a never been to Brixton or Harlesden and have no intention, because that spells DANGER white girl.  A white girl who went to school in Posh Land but never got the bus out of Posh Land to go home to the hood like I did, no… instead she walked a couple of roads into upper Posh Land and into the Posh Land village of No-Coloureds-Allowed-Unless-They’re-As-Rich-And-Posh-As-Us-Upon-The-Hill.  A white girl who if ever wanted to trace her roots would be able to trace them all the way back to colonial Caribbean and the big white colonial house that housed Master and Mistress white people and their thirty slaves which would trace all the way to EX’s roots. And from what it seems they are engaged. And seeing as we broke up only two years ago, the white girl probably had my EX’s attention when I was screaming for it.

Soul it hurt. My skin was on fire when I got through my front door.

The more I thought about it the more my real soul felt like it was seeping through my pores into a puddle at my feet.

I stood in the hallway in the dark, staring into the dark, feeling extremely dark.

HE left me for her, her who is so the opposite of me, nothing like me, or anything me could ever be.

HE chose her and now they’re engaged and I’m single and now it has all been confirmed, all the hopes and dreams have been erased.

In the darkness of my hallway I realized that I could no longer pretend that I’m not waiting for HIM to come back a changed man.

I could no longer play the ‘I don’t love HIM anymore really I don’t’ game with the girls.

I couldn’t keep going to the places HE went, looking fantastic,  hoping HE’D agree.

I could no longer kid myself.

Soul it hurt. Writing all of this hurts so I promise to tell you the rest when I can. Now I have to go and put on some Mary J and sing along with hurt Mary. Before she was married Mary, sing out loud…

 ‘…wonderiiingg whyyyyy you don’t loooovee meeee the way that I loooooooooooooooooove YOU! I CAN LOVE YOU BEDDDER THAN SHE CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!’

Ebs xxx

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