Blonde Ambition

Oh Lordy. *shakes head*

This past evening I decided it would be fun to ‘lighten’ my current hair color. Without any thought or consideration as too the fact that I am not a professional colorist; I reached for a highlighting kit that promised to give my hair the ultimate “Caramel Blonde” highlights.

The box read:

“Shimmering strands of light at the stroke of a brush. A multi-facted spectrum of caramel blonde highlights.”

Yay! Bring on the blonde! I can pull it off, right? Certainly.

I couldn’t hardly wait to get home . . . and get my Mary J Blige on.

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one reason why i feel like everythangs ‘gon be alright . . .

my son
i love him through and through
he is
my joy
my redemption
my friendly reminder that it’s not “all about me”
he is
in some ways my teacher
and other ways my pupil
always testing my knowledge and skills
he is also
a lawyer
a spy
the reason for spur of the moment, untimely, teachers conferences
the worker of my last damn nerve
the maker of dishes he don’t like to wash
the nickeler and dimer of the dame dizzles pocket book
moody
complex
smarter than most of the men i’ve dated
&
‘crafty’ (gotta get up pretty early in the morning and keep your eyes peeled when “junior dizzle” is concerned)

that is why . . .
i welcome all forms of positive reinforcement and assistance

i we have been fortunate enough to find a tremendous amount of love a support from the following community movement — “YO! The Movement” that is . . .
the young men and women you see featured (in the clip below) are all active mentors in my sons life.
i feel relieved and blessed to see my son enjoying himself, learning, building and moving down a path of social and political enlightenment.
makes me feel like i’m doing at least one thing right.
ya know?

like i’ve said before, it aint easy preparing another person for the world . . . especially alone.

Thank you YO! Thank you sooooo much for playing your position in the community and taking my son under your wing.

Hit ‘em up! Send money! Donate your time! Collaborate!

YO! The Movement
The Twin Cities Hip Hop Festival

Indulge and Bloom . . .

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. - Anais Nin

It’s been a long winter season in more ways than one.

For starters,

I had my purse ripped off of my shoulder by a young punk who felt entitled to take what’s mine.

I was witness to man getting shot in the chest, twice, at close range, in a confined space.

I was the target of a “hate campaign”, launched by a individual who was/is relentless on pissing and shitting all over my good name for no sound rhyme or reason.

I’ve finally come to FULL grips with the fact that I am the PRIMARY caretaker of an elderly family member who has a severe lung disease, caused from DECADES upon DECADES of smoking. This person is on oxygen (three tanks reside in their home) , but they STILL smoke almost pack a day.

I was forced to move from my home of five years, in the HEIGHT of winter.

I now live in of one of the most unsavory parts of town, worse than anyplace I’ve EVER rested my head. I can’t hardly relax.

I started a new job. And as we all know, even positive transitions can be stressful.

I’m raising a teenage son without any assistance or guidance from his other half.

My face is rounder. My clothes are tighter. I’ve been running around looking a hot ass mess . . .

It is safe to say I am suffering the effects of post traumatic stress of the ghetto and life in general.

This chain of newly occurring/reoccurring events lead me to the realization that I am not immune to the fuckery, fakery and all around madness of society. I definitely got a friendly reminder that in general, when reality strikes, you can lay down and die a slow death of misery . . . or bounce back and keep striving. Either way, nobody gives a damn what you do, not really.

Why?

Because we are all busy starring in our own movie.

Further more, because I AM a fair minded person with a soul, a conscious and very perceptive to the enviorment around me - I am that much more susceptible to the wrath of negative minds and spirits. Being unique and eye-catching has benefits, but it also has its curses. It may sound cocky, but I swear on 3 oxygen tanks, I came out the womb shining. And for that reason, I will always be noticed - which is all fine and dandy when I’ve got my swagger in tact. But not so much fun when tragedy strikes and the joke is on me.

So yeah, I be going through it, mang. Honestly, not much about my situation has changed. Except one thing: I REFUSE to throw in the towel. Sure, I may retreat to a corner to lick my wounds and a give the world a much deserved middle finger - but damnit - when it’s all said and done, I’ve gotta step up out of the shadows and radiate. I gotta, gotta, gotta keep fighting the good fight. I gotta do it for you . . . and most importantly, myself.

With that being said.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

I was born at the dawn of spring for a reason . . . to represent the the rebirth and renewal of things once faded. It’s time to water my roots and bloom.

Today, I will listen to jazz and play it as loudly as I want to . . .

Angelique Kingsbury
March 26th, 2007

the after thought to a shitty day

my girlfriends lent shoulders of support
my sister came through with the white zinfindael (to stop them nerves from rattling)
i even took a puff offa someones nasty ass cigarette
my son hugged me and told me he loves me

but

who is here to hold me?
where are those big strong arms of reassurance?
where is the bass?

you know what . . .?

this is a big fat FUCK YOU to alla of my ex-lovers
whom i probably i tried to love in some form or fashion.

when you see me next time (cuz you always do . . . and just can’t wait to chop it up w/ me - verbally)
spare me the reminiscing of how sweet it was to be loved by me
i already know that

you aint my friend either
so stop acting like i’m still the homegirl

if i were, you would be here . . .

bastards

(yeah, i made it a plural)

it’s alright
i’ll feel better in the morning
& surely enough, i’ll go back to thinking less about strong arms, honey suckle kisses and male comfort . . .

once again, it will be more about me and the additional layer of “strong beige women” i’ve just wrapped myself up in.

goodnight

Will Somebody PULEEZE Pass Me the “Tanning Oil” and a One Way Ticket Up Outta This Motherfucker!

Before you fix your fingers to do anything else . . . do like Diddy says and “press play” . . .

That’s right bitches . . . “we”, as in me and mines reside in the great state of MinneSNOWta. Hip-Hip Hoooray! [insert sarcasm here]. And guess what happened this weekend . . .?

Yes, you geniuses guessed correctly, it snowed and snowed and snowed some more . . .

*Note that the photo below has not been edited. The ginormous, powdery white, puff ball you see, is fresh from heaven . . .(or hell depending on who you’re speaking to). You can’t see my hands, but I went on ahead scooped a scoop to demonstrate my present REALITY.

Side Note: I’m laughing at my eyeballs in this picture. Am I secretly related to Cookie Monster? *teasing* I’ll never tell . *ha*

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