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Day 14 – The Rest of My Life

May 14, 2012

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

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From → The Soul Pages

One Comment
  1. Ness permalink

    I was late on this, but I’m glad I made it back. So funny and not. ‘I don’t want to get none of her fire…’ Lol!

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