Yo Girl’s Bloggin’

Okay. I’m back. It’s been a long time.  You’d think I’d have a whole lot to write about because I’m so damn bored at work, BUT somehow researching online vacations, cds I want to buy, bull-ishing on myspace seems to take hold of my attention.

(Sigh)

It’s crazy and amazing how time just grabs hold of you, places gracefully (or not so gracefully) in some starting blocks and simply takes off. It’s April. Twenty-five percent of the year is gone. Damn.  I guess this is a great time to review my resolutions. 

We stand for peace, we stand with Israel!

Support peace, not terrorists!
——-

So I’m walking by the weekly Farmers Market at Lakeshore and Grand. Ever present are the children, strollers, the babies, preggie people, tons of ORGANIC this and ORGANIC that and foods I can’t pronounce. If you are looking for evidence of Dr. King’s I Have a DAY Dream, its at the Lakeshore Farmers Market. Oh yeah, did I tell you about the Market’s Berkeley flavor? (White folks with) Hiking sandals, Birkenstocks, locks, fros, rastas, androgenous or questionable looking gays, interracial couples. . . You know, the Berkeley flavor.

Anyways, I am once again thinking, “This is so Bay Area” for there are pro-Israel supporters/protestors–both groups, same corner– waving flags and banners. [I love folks who protest.] I’m weaving through the crowd and stepping with purpose cause I’m trying to get to the corner without having to accept a flyer I won’t read. (Waste not, want not.) With my left eye and ear, I notice a whole bunch of folks acting crazy. Of course, I’m surprised cause it was white folks acting crazy AND its a damn PEACE rally at a Farmerl’s Market. Of course I’m astounded and I don’t like to celebrate violence by gawking, but I had to slow my stroll and pause. A lady holding this blue bar and her tag team partner (a dude) were screaming. I couldn’t really make out everything, but I did hear, “What are you doing! You hit her! You hit a girl! You need to watch your people.” I see some talk-to-the-hands appear and I figured the whole thing was over. I make my way to the corner and I hear a dude on his cell phone say, “Emergency? We need some help! Yes, we have a situation.” I thought the whole thing was quite humorous until I heard “[Slap Slap Slap] Hey, what are you doing?! Get off of me! Do you are what you did? You kicked that lady! You have a weapon.”

Real talk, these people were squabbin right behind the kids’ jumper. About 2 minutes later a Sheriff’s car rolls up, 12 seconds later the first patrol (OPD) car rolls up, 17 seconds later the next one, and then about 2 minutes later the last 2 appear. (We all know if this was a Black neighborhood it would have taken them jokers at least a half hour. Actually they might come faster if there is a shooting.)

The whole situation was laughable, yet embarassing. Ironically right across the street were the Bay Area Women in Black. Standing quietly, elegantly and with compusure. Pretty much they were not fighting or laughing at the debacle on the other side of the street.

Like Too-Short would say, “That’s Oakland baby!”

The sun was shining and the weather was hot.

Went to the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Part. Checked out the carnivorous plants exhibit and took some awesome photos. Returned home determined to go to the gym. Instead, I was accosted by a nap.

I awoke about an hour and a half later UPset. I have no idea what happened. I was just overwhelmingly unhappy and hungry. And so, I started crying. (I cry A LOT. No one believes me, but I do.) I was so overcome with weariness and emotion, I could not remain upright. In the midst of my fit I came to a realization. I was–am–lonely. I have no idea where it all came from. It just appeared like BOOM!

After wiping my face and dumping out the excess in my nasal cavities I decided to do some research. Did you know loneliness can kill you?

http://www.myhealthsense.com/F960422_loneleness.html

http://www.dancewithshadows.com/business/pharma/loneliness-health-age.asp

You are a true Californian if you know J is pronounced with the “hyh” sound and if you can endure the soft crackling sound the wall makes, the jerkiness of a ground shake, and the sight of your belongings swaying to and fro as you await the end of an earthquake.

Do you ever notice people always ask the same question: did you feel the earthquake? If you don’t feel it folk express disbelief, “How did you not feel it?” If you do “feel it” you always discuss where you were, what you were doing and your response.

Since I’m a true Californian I gotta ask, did you feel it? This one was pretty long, at least 10 seconds. I was chillin on my bed.