It’s Reared It’s Ugly Head!

Hate Arrived At my Building

THis morning as I was going around the corner, it was 7:30AM I needed snacks for the van ride out to Church.  It was cold, brisk, and for some reason I had my head down scanning the ground.   I don’t particularly know why I was looking at the ground, perhaps it could have been that sometimes I will find something very disgusting and so I don’t wish to get anything on my shoes.   Just right outside the gate to the apartment that I live at I noticed a small white piece of paper.   First thing I noticed was the universal hate symbol of a Swastika favorite symbol of the ever so hateful Nazi’s!   The small note further had underneath it’s odious symbol the numbers 14, 88  which is a code you can look it up as I did on Google.     It’s disgusting and makes me want to vomit……ON THE WHITE SUPREMICISTS !!  I’ll tell you exactly whats on the note since I have it still, I haven’t yet thrown it away since I want to show it to the landlord as further proof.   The note said the following:  White Power with a Swastika along with the numbers 14 & 88  and just four words which were:  Hindrance, Counteraction, Defiance, Obstruction.   On the other side of the piece of paper was nothing but pre-printed advertisement Woodland Park Zoo which is on the North end and a capital W which is the symbol for the University of Washington, so the hateful scribe was written it seems on the back of a piece of raffle paper.   How poetic ( note my sarcasm)  Personally these F**kers need to be blown away but thats just my opinion.   This is my Country too.    Nothing like a sweet note to start your day off right!

Trying To Figure Out My Career Path.

Okay for those of you who love to judge someone who maybe unemployed, what you really need to understand is the circumstances behind it.    For me in particular I’ve had no one who took any amount of time whatsoever to help me.   Understand?  I had no clue and it’s not like I had any kind of road map.   For a Black woman that road is a whole lot harder.   I had depression issues, manic depression issues and just about everyone & anyone didn’t care it’s as simple as that.  Add to that a Parent that passed away and I was basically set back!   In my journey, and let me tell you my journey was filled with not just speed bumps but land mines and all the while I’m getting your garden variety hate from your garden variety bigots yes that Racism that loves to rear it’s ugly head!!    I understand why incarceration rates among Black & Brown women are astronomical, Native women too.   I am looking on the employment website called I found a particular job that I think that I could be well suited for except it would call for me to study business which I’m okay with & learn another language I’m really smart heck I could probably learn to speak a couple of different ones.  However what gets to me everyday is how little no one gives a damn on how I feel.    It’s been this way my whole life.   Childhood, teen years, Adulthood.    It’s like people treat me like I’m some sort of peaseant!   or worse.   The oppression is horrible in this Country sometimes I feel as though instead of 2018 it’s like 1958!    It’s for that reason my one dream is to OWN my own business and although I don’t know how I’m going to do that it’s what I’m going to do!    Because let me clue you in on something:   I’ve never been treated fairly on any of the jobs I’ve had.   Hey, I can’t afford  to not face the truth the supervisors I’ve had were awful!   To give you one example and I’ll put this company on blast, I worked at a plastics manufacturing plant located in Ballard Wa.   I worked in the Clerical department were the woman supervisor was such a bitch.     I came in one morning to say “good morning”   She snapped at me “what have you got to be so happy about”?    Here is something I’ve noticed especially with some supervisors when you have a good attitude your slammed, if your angry it’s “see those blacks are always angry”   I ain’t making this up people.   Damned if you do damned if you don’t!     I wish I had that White privilege because being a Black woman is exhausting.   We’re placed right at the bottom .    We’re considered low, no one cares about us just check out the video I’ve pasted on here if you dare.    It gets worse still.   See when I grew up especially in California I didn’t have these kinds of problems.   I grew up in the 1970’s now it seems hip to hate.   No one gives a damn about Black women.    Don’t believe me go Google Charleena Lyles! and Sandra Bland just to name some.  For over 30 years trying to find employment, I get mean cold glares, volunteering at a place like the Life Long Aids Alliance nothing but prejudice.  Nothing like being treated like the lowest worm to build you up right? and this all happening LONG before Trump took to the White House.

Manic& All Alone How I Hate My Life

I’m at the height of rage right at this moment.   I hate this time of year.   I have no friends.

I have no partner and trust me I hate women these days so I don’t want one.   Men are even worse, wished I could afford a pet.

I’m so mad I see couples.    I see people driving around in nice cars.   I have no one to talk to cause no one understands.    It really sucks to be me right now.   Don’t know what to do either.

At least I get SOME comfort in knowing that someone at least bothers to read my blog.   Because I feel that it somehow validates me as a human being.   Because

Right now I don’t feel like much of one.   Dogs live better than I do.   I get tired of all the stereotyping, the hate and I do get that let me tell you.   I can’t seem to get that through some peoples thick heads just how hateful living here is.    Just last year I had a hateful incident happen and the woman was NON WHITE which makes it so bad.      I hate how everything is going.   I suffer more each day.   And I just don’t know what to do.

Veterans Story #2

This is a follow up to the first Veterans day blog, if you haven’t read it well you might want to.     I will continue on with my journey of a young female in the U.S. Army.   But first let me just say if I could do it all over again?   I would have really buckled down in my school work , got a tutor so I could have got better grades then tried to enroll into a military college not a civilian one but a military school like The Citadel.    But I didn’t know a thing about military colleges at the age of 18 or anything else for that matter.

So the group of us females arrive by bus at Fort Jackson South Carolina.   I don’t remember much except that when I saw who my drill instructors  I was pretty frightened.   One kind of looked like a Nazi and looked quite mean!   This guy I’ll call him Sargeant York ( like the movie ha ha)  had about 2-3 rows of ribbons on his Khaki uniform, an infantry badge, and a light blue braided rope looped under his armpit & attached on his shoulder.   I especially like the light blue braided rope unsure why.  Sargeant York also had a Ranger patch and at the time I didn’t know what that meant but I pretty much guessed that it was an elite bunch of men like the Green Berets ( I knew a little about Green Berets from the classic movie starring John Wayne).

Okay, here is what I remember from my time in basic training.   It was extremely difficult for me.   I cried a lot because I was extremely homesick!   Something I didn’t count on.   I cried so much the other girls in the dorm had to tell me to shut up with the racket.   I’m so glad that I didn’t get a blanket party over all the crying I did ( I’ll explain what that is later).

Wake time 3:30….AM! we had to keep our dorm neat & tidy, get our uniforms on, make our bunks MILITARY STYLE if your unsure go Google it, but the sheets had to have those hospital corners  & it had to be TIGHT!   The military has ZERO tolerance for sloth!   I was never a neat person.   I’m still not.   I have no idea how I made it, guess God was with me.    We ran EARLY in the morning before the sun was up for what seemed like endless miles in boots!   I think now the military recruits wear sneakers.   Lots of push ups which were painful because as a female I lack upper body strength like the men.   If you’ve ever seen the movie starring Richard Gere “An Officer & A Gentleman”  (great movie)  there is a scene were the one female is really in a lot of pain & struggling just to push out ONE PUSH UP!  That is real folks it’s awful.   But notice how Richard Gere & his buddy Sid Worley pump out the push ups & they seem to be have little to no problem.  

I remember a lot of emotional abuse, yelling, the drill instructors always tell recruits something like “you are the sorriest bunch, that I’ve ever seen”  .   More running, I really don’t remember much except for weapons training which scared me since I never handled a weapon in my life up until that point.    I handled an machine gun I can’t remember the model but it was heavy & you really had to know what you were doing because that behemoth of a machine will take on a life of it’s own if you weren’t careful.   They were not easy to handle, I have to give major props to our boys that handled one of these babies in wartime.   Not easy.   There were a few issues I did have.    The handling of a LIVE GRENADE we did wear flack vests and we were given good instruction however listening in class & actually performing the task?  Two different things.    First I was so afraid that I might drop the grenade.   If I did well that’s all she wrote.   I might lose an arm or worse.   Luckily

nothing like that happened I followed the drill instructors lesson to the T.   Another issue K.P.    Otherwise known as Kitchen Patrol I think.   Well whatever it stood for during the time I did basic recruits were required to pull this which mean’t you had to get up even earlier & get down to the kitchen to wash, wash, and wash PILES OF THE MOST DISGUSTING POTS & PANS which seemed as high as a mountain.   I don’t lie.   If this was to build character in me than I must have enough for 10 lifetimes.   To this day everyone I hate washing dishes, I will have to displine myself better but all I can say is thank the lord for dishwashers!    Another was pulling guard duty inside the dorm known as “Fire Watch”  I hated that, and some of the other girls took advantage of lights out to sneaks guys in.   Of course I couldn’t say anything want to know why?  I would get the snot beat out of me in the dorm as I slept otherwise known as the infamous blanket party and friends it’s real go & check out the movie Full Metal Jacket were they gave one to an over weight guy in the movie played by Vincent D’onforio (might be spelled wrong)  and you’ll understand.   It’s scary.   I’m by the book.  But not this time I wasn’t going to be. 

Alright my friends my hands ache.  To be continued next blog Veterans day #3 I’m writing a series.   

Veterans Day Story

Today is Veterans day.   I don’t have any war campaign stories for you.  I’m glad that I don’t growing up in the types of households as a child was war enough for me.   But I am a U.S. Army veteran and believe me it was the toughest job I never loved.    

Back when I was in high school there were military recruiters that actually came to hang out right on the campus!  which to me isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because had it not been for that I would have never even heard about the armed forces.   Want to know why?  Because NO ONE:

Explained anything to me at all!  No one showed me anything AT ALL!   No one talked to me about plans after high school AT ALL!  It were though I was invisible so no one knew I was there!   That’s how it felt to be me.   Black girls DO get ignored whether you want to believe that or not.   We don’t get ANYTHING!  that’s positive even guidance for our young lives at least that was how it was for me.

Today in 21st Century all anyone cares about is the youth, when I was a really young person no one could have cared less.       

Anyway fast forward towards my enlistment into Uncle Sam’s U.S. Army.   I did it all on the spur of the moment without really giving it too much thought.    I was 18 and I had no idea whatsoever on what to do with my life.   I had no one to talk to & no one even bothered to reach out to me to even ask me anything!     See, I told you I was treated like I was invisible!   If you read my previous blogs I had a Mother who would go straight up to her bedroom after work without even asking me anything about my day at school & she didn’t even bother cooking or leaving instructions on what nor how to cook anything.    Parents a word here:  You have to teach kids or guide them on what & how to do things because…..well they’re kids…..okay?

So, in my very young & immature mind I figured that I could handle the Army.    On what basis did I come to this conclusion?   Growing up in the abusive & chaotic environment of all the yelling, violence, instability that was my life at home.   All I knew was that the Army would be strict, that the drill instructors did yell and so in my very young mind I figured that I would be okay due to how it was at home.    And since my own Mother really didn’t make any effort whatsoever to connect with me, she seemed to have severe issues of depression that she wasn’t getting addressed on her own, then when she wasn’t depressed she was having a full blown rage fest over something trivial.   Honestly?  I’m real surprised that she didn’t have a stroke  THATS HOW BAD IT WAS!

When I told Mom about my enlistment she did not take it well which confused me.  Because when I was at home she acted as though she could not stand me.

The day I had to leave Mom was acting weird.   It was my Mom & my best friend from high school who took me to the airport to get my plane to one of 2 or 3 stops before arriving to my Army base.   Mom made a big scene which was embarrassing.    Looking back on it I wished that Mom would have reached out somewhere on something like an empty nest support group but she really wasn’t on top of all that unfortunately.   I was too young & immature to help her & besides I wrongly assumed that since she was the adult that she would be alright & could see to her own needs.    Still to this day I don’t understand her behavior.   

The plane ride was very long.   I was to arrive at Fort Jackson South Carolina.   I live out in the West Coast.    The ride takes FOREVER!  At least it felt that way for me.  Last time I was on a plane ride that long was going to Washington DC for a high school field trip.

Once I arrived it was 3 AM in the morning!   Now at 18 years old I think that the only time or the last time I was up that late was my high school graduation party and I got home at the crack of dawn.   But this was different.   I don’t remember much just bits & pieces.

I remember that we were escorted by a short muscular 3 stripe sergeant who had a very heavy accent.   I have a great trained ear for accents now but at 18 I wasn’t accustomed to hearing them much.   He pretty much barked at us, he was an intense man.    I felt like running away but to where?  Here I was thousands of miles from home in a strange state that was very HOT + HUMID even for September early in the morning.     We get to the womens dorm, but wait let me tell you were we were first.   This place was the place called the induction center were we would get fitted for uniforms and get our duffel bags, get those dreaded shots (eew)  we would then reach the actual Army base were the training would begin.

So our group were allowed some sleep for a few hours and our sergeant escorted us onto the womens floor.   We walk down a corridor a few yards when all of a sudden the Sergeant yells loudly ‘MAN ON THE FLOOR”   Good grief I thought I was

going to have a heart attack.   He scared me.  But I said nothing but I was certainly alert.   We get to our dormitory were there were already some other females  soundly sleeping in their bunks.   However I dreaded having to meet them in the morning once everyone woke up.   Why?  Call it a premonition.   I just didn’t feel like I would get the warmest welcome and I was right.   Because the next morning the yelling started all over again this time from the awakening females who came from all over the 50 states.   One in particular who seemed the most aggressive was a woman who stood only 5 ft but hailed from New York.   She didn’t play.   I believe her greeting to me was “Who the hell are you”?   What a greeting.    Basically the weather was so hot in South Carolina that women fainted where they stood right in   our formation line.   I was so scared I would do the same thing.   Didn’t happen but it was scary.  Yelling was going on all around me for someone who came from a chaotic background even this was unsettling.

I was at this place for a week I think then it was onto the actual training camp of Fort Jackson.    And OMG!   I had never worked so hard in my young life & I had various jobs but none like this.   And to think I had 3 years to go of this Hell!

More of my Veterans story To Be Continued Thanks for reading serving the U.S. is a tough job!  Please thank a veteran will you?

I AM NOT A Codependent!

And please remember that!

If your having a bad day, don’t take it out on me.   If I’m trying to help or make a suggestion I’d rather not hear a snarky sarcastic irate type of response like the one I received today from a grumpy middle aged driver picking me up.   It is up to YOU to keep yourself going & in good spirits because remember I’m working on me!  I don’t deserve your rudeness.

I’ve suffered much in my own life and I really don’t have time to worry about you.

If you don’t like me, then I could care less because I haven’t done anything to you, I would suggest that whatever is bothering you that YOU take care of your own insecurities, irate feelings or whatever negativity you have all on your own.   I am not your codependant I’m not your Mother.   

I had an incident happen were a grumpy ass middle aged woman driver snapped at me.  I suggested she put on her report the incident she complained that she didn’t know where to pick me up.  So it’s my fault you got lost?   I refuse to feel bad about this woman.  It’s a fair assessment to say  I didn’t much like her.  Being on that van with her driving I felt like I had eaten something that didn’t agree with me.   

I don’t much get along with people who have insecurity problems.   Hope I never get her again.