MY poverty

Others have given, given, and given to me and still ends won't meet. My finances are stagnating, but I have comfort that it's temporary. But it's not so for others. I feel an urging in my spirit to give, to give not just from my financial poverty but from my wealth of spirit. To give out of the blessings I have been so fortunate to recieve. I save six dollars for to last the rest of this week, barely have enough bread for a sandwich. But I have the bread for a sandwich. I am abundantly wealthy in ways I don't know. Why don't I share my little bit with someone else, and in giving find that I am more wealthy than I know.

Okay...the cloud has passed

Okay okay, so I'm done with the pseudo-depressing blogs. I have been listening to one too many sad songs...plus I'm sure quantum levels of stress and poor nutrition did not help. Also, I am POSITIVE the stress had me going bald in my eyebrows. I'm serious. I know I did not pluck it. And then, it only requires one or two eyebrow hairs to fall out to go bald, so it's very likely. Lol.

Well, just for kicks. Here is a picture of me looking GREAT! That always makes me feel happier. Yeah, that and seeing my son's pale white booty streak across the room. Hilarious.

Gifted?...

It has recently been brought to my attention that my son may be verbally advanced, which is very exciting for me. It's a nice confirmation that staying at home with him is a definite benefit regardless of what outside pressures may say. So...I've decided to start documenting some of his current words to have a record.
Currently he says:

light
la luz ("light" in Spanish)
sit down
lay down
get down
get up
up
doggie
tiger
eat-eat
cup
shoe
daddy
mama
yeah!
nose
teeth
ball
go-go-go...or any variation of this...lol
no
uh oh
oops
hi
bye or bye-bye
woof-woof
"growl" if asked what a tiger does
eyes
"A"
"B"
"C"
"D"
"1"
"2"
"3"
book
on
off
more
duckie
quack
juice
mine
thank you
bite

Also, he remembers words he does not hear often and knows when to use them. Example is "la luz"; he heard this at his grandma's, but he knows that it is light and says it often. He quickly learns a word and assimilates it.

I just realized

My son's balls fit in a spoon. He has a tablespoon of balls.

See what a Tuesday will bring you...

So...let's start with the biggest thing to happen on a Tuesday since my son's birth (wait, I think it was Tuesday, or maybe Thursday. I know it started with a T. ) Anyways, the memorial to Michael Jackson. Like everyone, I revered him. I was not a die-hard fan, but with Michael Jackson everyone is a die-hard fan, because I have never met a person who did not love Michael Jackson. Even Alien Ant Farm reprised his song; he had appeal for the rockers. We all grew up with Michael just as we grew up with family. He was our generation, and no one surpassed him. And I am surprised at how much it hurt to watch his memorial. I was crying into a towel, and my son saw me and came over and started wiping his eyes with the towel to copy me. I pray for his soul, his pain must have been immense, but his reach was greater than his pain. For his children, I pray God shields them from the pitfalls of spotlight, that they will not be a cautionary tale of the dangers of stardom, as their father was. ::TEARS::

Okay, jumping from sadness to anger, nay frustration. I always wonder how far I will go to make a point, and so far I realize...I will go pretty damn far. I am fascinated by how much influence a person can have over their surroundings when they refuse to give up. On a larger scale, I always wonder how people getting together can curtail hunger, AIDS, famine. How can I hope to do that if I can't and won't fight for myself? How can I defend others when I lay down and submit over trivial issues. Can I get back your land or your right to food if I can't even get back my $100 from a seemingly unscrupulous pageant director? (The true scruples of this person remain to be seen. I am not implying they are unethical, I am implying uncooperativeness up to this point. That is all). Well, I guess in the case of Michael, you can heal the world even when you can't heal yourself.

This is all because I want to be a "professional agitator". I want to make changes for a living. Push the envelope until it opens up. Fight until things happen. I guess I'm practicing right now. Is suing necessary? Am I doing too much for $100? I don't know. But if $100 wasn't worth anything, she would not be so set on keeping it. So obviously, it is more valuable than other girls are believing. So...yes. I will keep fighting. For my right to be made whole. I have sacrificed alot for this, and I deserve to be recompensed damages for my loss. YESSIRREE MA'AM!

As for my goals, I want a shop. I think I want a T-shirt shop. Yes, I want to enter the oversaturated market of fashion. But hey, if it's oversaturated then that means there is ample room for me. And considering I don't wear T-shirts, this should be great! I have a name too. No logo and no design. But I think I'm going to work on this. As intellectual as debating neo-conservatism is, I also have a penchant for fashion and creativity, and that aspect of my life is unfullfilled. And it is leaving my life feeling a tad...drole. Children's shirts are great too. I could make some that my gorgeous son would wear. This could be awesome. Looking forward to it.
HAHA! I've got a vision now!

And I finally finished Paulo Coelho's "The Witch of Portobello" last night. Surprise ending. I appreciated that. More on that to follow.

One more thought: consider this. Questions seem like the most harmless activity you can engage in. Since childhood, we were taught you can never ask too many questions. I have learned that the very nature of asking the right question can be an aggressive act and start revolutions. I can provoke emotions across a wide range of spectrums. Questions disrupt the balance and demand private issues be brought to the light. That is why, the right question at the right time can get you in trouble and/or liberate you.

Death of the Clock

I'm officially switching to using sun-dials to measure my day, and to maximize my feelings of success regarding what I accomplish I'm making my day 40 hours long. That way, I feel like I have much more time to get things done, because 24 hours is just not cutting it. I thought my last semester of undergrad was killer! Time management and having a million things to do and no time to do them are not the same thing! Completely different lesson, different school entirely. Balancing kid, school, house management, relationship, as well as a wedding is TOO DAMN much. Oh, what those without kids and obligations to others don't realize....they are only limited by their own strength. I use all my strength, I better find some more and muster up the energy to give my all to two other beings. I can't run on empty on my motherhood job. There is no "I have nothing left to give". I better dig down deep and find it. There are no excuses, no "It will wait for tomorrows", no "I'm sorry I'm overwhelmed" or "my bad, I'm running late/I forgots".
But oh....the payoffs.
No degree, no paycheck can equal that payment of a hug, or a meaningful kiss or a cookie-filled swipe across the face.
So...I'm trying to kill the clock. Stop the endless mad dash against time for increasing productivity. Take a breath, play with my son, lay with my future husband...and enjoy the the love that abounds in my world. Most people work endlessly for decades and don't reach a payoff. Luckily, I get a check and a bonus after every day. And it is a direct deposited to my heart.

My problem is

Just like Paulo Coelho says in the Alchemist, people never realize their dreams because they are afraid of being happy. I refuse to believe that happiness in a couple can be achieved and that it can be sustained. My mind wants to glorify the single escapades of women who are smart, independent, sexually adventurous, and don't need anybody. And this is not the truth of the situation, it is just the view from someone looking through rose-colored lenses. Why do I not let myself believe that a life-long friendship and partnership is more fulfilling? I've never seen it firsthand, so it seems foreign to me. Even at this point, I am torn between what I want and what I believe is the limit of what I can get. And that is sad. How do I believe in the fairytale of love when I put the book down?

NEED A BREAK!

Oh God or some divine entity or force...send me a vacation! I need a vacation now, I beautiful getaway to recenter my soul and refresh my spirit. Somewhere far away from this geographic location and somewhere full of history and beautiful.

Requiem of a happy ending

I do not know if happy endings exist. I know of redemption. I know that forgiveness exists. Passion and excitement and commitment, I haven't seen in a long time. I wonder if they aren't just make believe, like my fantasies of love, and tenderness, and family. I only know of routine, fuck ups, day to day chores, endless to-do lists, stress, and half-ass attempts. Of taking others for granted, of getting comfortable, of not listening with the ears or heart.
Redemption. Redeeming. Redeemer. Difficult choices, even more difficult solutions. Endless pain.
What did I want? Now I can almost tell you for certain what I wanted now that what I had is a memory.
I wanted a man. One who works hard and sacrifices much for his love. He counts his blessings every day and when it comes to me, he counts me as two. He supports me more than financially. He protects me; I feel his every move is to build a hedge around our family, lest any person or force come to steal our dreams or joy. He is the lighthouse guiding our family and the guard at the gates of the city. He watches us. He fights the world on our behalf, and when my soldier comes home weary, I rub his head and refresh him. My heartbeat rebuilds his strength and he only finds comfort on my breast. I stay home and work hard to maintain the house that he has built. Our roles are different but we respect each other and realize that we could not do it without the other. We each are needed. And we all realize that. And we appreciate that. We see the future, and when your eyes are blinded by the sun, I look for the both of us. We carry each other during our times of weakness. We celebrate the successes of each other. We make it easy for each other to win. You bring me special surprises for no reason. You relish any opportunity to show me your love. You look me in the eyes when you talk to me. You confide your deepest fears to me. You tell me what you are afraid to tell yourself. I don't have any judgement for you. Only shelter and a safe place to release. You touch me like your soul needs it. Like its your mind that is hungry. You kiss me like you want to taste my soul. You love me with your soul not your body. You think about me as much as I think about you. You show me. You tell me. You surprise me when I am not around.
I wish I had that. I wish I was your world. The world where a man loves a woman.

My Believe in Yourself essay

Once upon a time the great Songwriter gave a breath of life and a song full of dreams and purpose to each of His creations. After placing the finishing touches on each of His masterpieces, He sent them one by one to Earth. We are those creations, and each one of us was born with a song on our lips and its lyrics sat on the tips of our tongues. Our song will help guide us to our destiny, and the lyrics tell the story of our success to come. While we were still infants, the great Songwriter sang our song to us as our dreams carried us away. We got older and the song remained in our hearts, and as our bodies grew so did our dreams. As children, we dreamed fantastic dreams of princesses and sword fights, magical dances with trees and journeys on the wings of birds. Each dream added a verse to our song about our conquests and victories, our hopes and fantasies. We continued to grow and sing until one day we were told that the days of fantasy had to end. So, we put away our swords and dolls and replaced them with realism and sensibility. When we looked around, all we could see were the shards of others’ broken dreams. The sound of unfinished songs and incomplete lyrics began to drown out the music that played in our hearts. Before long, we forgot what it felt like to dream and sing. The world that had once been a magical place had now become a place of disappointment and broken hopes. At night we would have dreams of grabbing stars and placing them in our pockets, but when we awoke we were empty handed. We began to sing the songs of complacency and mediocrity so well that we forget that our own song was full of brilliance and triumph. Our own songs carried us over rainbows, because it was given to us by a Spirit that has touched all reaches of the galaxy. Although it may feel as though our lips cannot form the words, our soul remembers the melody and the lyrics still linger. We can find them if we can remember what we knew as children: we are only as big as our dreams and our arms can reach as far as our mind can stretch. There exists a unique purpose for each of us in this world, and we have a song to share that humanity needs to hear. The melody is stained with tears, and the lyrics to our story are continuously unfolding. It is punctuated with the staccato of laughter, and the crescendo of each overcome trial. The song is your song. It can only be sung by you. Have the courage to dream when others cannot. Dare to sing when the world says that you are off-key. The whole of humanity is awaiting your verse, and the world is waiting to dance to your melody.

Fear of yourself

I have been really coming to terms with my dreams and my potential, and I have recently discovered something about myself that I did not know. I am afraid of my potential: I fear being talented, being intelligent, being worthy. It seems that my fear is the reason why I am consistently so hard on myself and so full of self-doubt, because if I truly believe that I can achieve higher and that I am gifted and have a calling for my life, then what? With great gifts comes great responsibility. Is that what I am afraid of?

Who Am I?

Tomorrow is the first of my interviews for this pageant, and I am thinking about all the possible questions that could arise and I felt the need to ground myself in who I am and what it is that I believe about the world and myself. I am perpetually hopeful that as individuals we can change and that as a community, state, nation, world we can be better. I have to believe that. I need to believe that change can happen at any point. I am naive, but if just one person can make a change, I intend to be that one person. My history, my family, my sould depends upon that one belief.
Human Rights...and the freedom to be human in our own unique and individual way. To have our cultures and ideals respected and to be free from retribution. The access to everything that is needed to survive. The ability to live freely and simply and to not sacrifice your relationships in the process. To not let money and consumption usurp the importance of human connectedness and the interrelation of all humankind. Economic systems that benefit all. Righteous consumption. Protecting the poor, the homeless, the children, the elderly, the voiceless. Not being consumed by bloodlust that are name brands. Being a protector of the Earth and a provider to the weak. These are all lofty ideals ecshewed in most religious texts and the duty of our humanity. We can only be as human as the way we treat other humans. And that is on a micro and macro level. Economics, personal relationships, trade relationships.
I want to see responsible Capitalism, that protects our earth and our brethren.

What do I learn the most from my heritage as a Haitian-American? That the battle is not won by the most skilled or the most intelligent or the most notable. It is won by the common people who have a purpose stronger than their lives. It is won by passion, by love. Nothing can conquer love. Not death and not life, nor oppression or subjugation.

The Pilgrimage

I just finished reading The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho. This is the third book I have read from him. The other two are The Alchemist, the world-reknowned book, and Brida. These books are changing my life in drastic ways that I cannot even begin to put into words. It is like someone has called to my remembrance all the experiences of my childhood which led me to believe today that I have a strong destiny and calling on my life. I feel there is somewhere I need to be and something that is calling me to grasp it, and as of yet, I have not located what exactly it is. It's my mission, which I could liken to Coelho's journey towards his sword and his mission to discover how to use it. I am still on the elementary step, because I have not yet found my path. I just feel it's presence calling me. I hate to speak on such an ethereal level, but after reading his books, I am trying to learn to embrace my intuition as it does serve a unique purpose for everyone. I have always known that there is knowledge that exists beyond our normal plane of thought. Even as a girl, I would think and complain that everyone was average. People's contentment with living average always bothered and perplexed me. It was as if they were visionless. I always wondered that if people really believed in God and they really believed that God was all-powerful, why didn't those same people accomplish magnificent things? I was seven years old when I questioned this to my mother. I remember that she sat there and sat nothing as we drove the 60 Freeway. Why do I remember that day specifically--looking out over the houses off the freeway and thinking that complacency must be mispleasing to God. I always disdained the lack of a higher dream, and my desire (although masked by the materialism of the world at times) is growing and growing. But for some reason, with all that I knew deep down, and all that Coelho's words inspired and confirmed in me, I still lack the courage to truly venture out. I am not afraid of failure. I am afraid of disappointment and of hurt. I am afraid of the knowing that the path to my destiny is a struggle, and the thought of never reaching it when I want it so much will kill me before my time. However, never reaching your destiny is a death all in itself.

Eureka!

I found my Rihanna swimsuit. Although it is not as unique (and I'm sure as expensive) as hers, it really accomplishes what I wanted so bad....to combine two prints that "go" but do not match. The store Target must have seen this as an emerging trend to capitalize on, so they decided to make a replica of her swimsuit, which of course I purchased for $30. Love it.

Hope it does me well at this photoshoot this weekend. Pageant, remember. Don't ask. I will post a picture of my in the swimsuit soon. First, I must get a whole bunch of inappropriate hair "taken care of". Yes, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.

Things I have gotta have right now

I am totally in love with eclectic/bohemian, pseudo-rock, semi-rockabilly fashion. What am I digging right now? I'll tell you.

With summer coming, I am looking for new bathing suits to show off my tattoo and hot post-baby bod. I love the way mixed and matched prints and colors can create a totally unique, one of a kind look. Like Stacy London and Clinton Kelly always say, "It doesn't have to match, it has to GO." That's my motto.

Here is my attempt at recreating this trend, for minimal dollars. Although this look did not fly with my friends, I am curious about what others have to say.

Believe in Yourself

Self, you have done it this time. I have gotten myself into something and I'm in way over my head. What is it- you must be dying to know. Is it an affair? Am I having second thoughts about my wedding? NO. It's a...it's so shameful to admit it, but it's a.....PAGEANT. I know, I know, what the hell am I doing in a pageant. I'm actually beginning to ask myself. Especially after seeing all these other girls who are incredibly talented, and drop dead gorgeous, and tall and skinny. And here I am...different. But maybe not different in a unique enough way to get the "thumbs up" for being totally wacky. I feel incredibly normal. It's amazing how easy it is to feel extraordinary when you are in a small pond. The moment you take a step out, you realize that there is brilliance in other places too.
I just keep reminding myself that I can only do as good as I can do. I can only be me, Candy, and that is the beauty of it all. I am competing with myself, and I am going to learn something new about my talents, drive, and abilities. It's not everyday that we have that ability to measure our growth. Maybe I am not an extraordinary girl, but it is just as well knowing that I am a regular girl with extraordinary capabilities and potential.

Cleaning, volume 1

So...my domestic capabilities are still growing. As yet, due to my hectic school schedule, I have done NO cooking in the last three weeks. Thankfully, I have a man that loves to be head chef of our place, so my son and I don't starve. (Lord knows I don't like eating a bowl of cereal all day.) So...after my big assignment was turned in, I decided to finally cleanse my house of the crumbs from all my son's snacks that have built a residence on my carpet and walls...yes, the walls. But alas, my good-for-nothing, piece of shit-taki mushrooms, vacuum was not worth a dime. But alas, thanks to affordable options at Target, my place is back to beautiousness.

Because everyone knows that there is nothing worse than finally getting the urge to clean and having your vacuum not pick up anything.

Plus, once I stopped being able to identify what my son had picked up and eaten off the floor, I knew it was time to stop fooling around.
Hey....he's bulletproof.