05.06.13

Hustle Hard Interview Project: Harv & Cal

HHpost famjam
To celebrate my 32nd birthday, I started the Hustle Hard Interview Project. Each month for the next year, I’ll be interviewing one Hustler who embodies a skill or a quality I admire. I hope to uncover some gems that bring me one step closer to being a fully-formed adult.

APRIL: RIDE OR DIE

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I’ve been in a deep funk lately. When I woke up with The Gloom a few weeks ago, I chose the course of action I thought was best- I ignored it. I apply this grown-up approach to almost everything unpleasant in my life. Avoidance usually leads to one of three outcomes. 1. The un-good goes away on its own (top two in this category: hormonal acne and insolent children on airplanes). 2. I eventually deal with it (This most often pertains to household chores. I swear to God when I say this: There is only a finite number of times you can turn a pair of socks inside out before your life spirals out of control.). 3. I keep ignoring it, and it keeps NOT going away (top two: parking tickets and depression).

A bout of blue here and there isn’t unusual for me. I try my best not to wallow because the longer I swat away the goodness in my life to focus on my goddamn feelings, the harder it is for me to remember how to be happy. When it started a few weeks ago, I put on a happy face for the first few days, got out of bed, and tried to fix myself up so I didn’t look homeless. Then, one morning, I just said Fuck this bullshit and stayed in bed. For, like, days.

My family graciously carried around the extra burden of having a non-functioning member without guilting or shaming me. One morning before school, Cal knocked softly on my bedroom door before peeking her head in. “You know, Mommy, a rock isn’t just a rock. If it’s a rock on the side of the road, it’s okay to ignore it. But if it’s a rock in my shoe, I have to sit on the curb and take my shoe off and get the rock out or I can’t walk right. I think you have a rock in your shoe.”

I thanked Cal for her wisdom, and then I laughed the kind of deep and roaring laughter where sound ceases and you eventually end up coughing because your body needs air.

The Ride or Dies in our lives will always give it to us straight without being cruel or careless.

The family we are born into and the family we eventually create can be two totally different experiences if we want them to be. My biggest hope is that Cal’s first family experience is the one that teaches her about love and patience and compassion and forgiveness. It wasn’t my first family experience, but I’ve learned about these goodnesses through the family I’ve created- Harv and Cal. My ride or dies.

(Originally, I had planned to post this as April’s Hustle Hard Interview. However, the bulk of my waking hours have been devoted to wallowing and doing jack shit for the past few weeks. I’m now addressing that rock in my shoe. Things are looking up.)

EJL: First things first. Who’s your favorite rapper?

Harv: I thought you said this was going to be a serious interview.

Cal: I like show tunes.

EJL: Can you please not make this the hardest interview I’ve ever done? Sheesh.

Harv: Fine. My favorite rapper is that Chain guy. The one with that music video you made me watch twice yesterday.

EJL: Uh. 2 Chainz? Please never reference him as “that Chain guy” in public. I only showed you that video because you said a rap video couldn’t be tasteful or artistic.

Cal: Mine is the one that says “Go Shorty, it’s your birthday. We’re gonna party like it’s your birthday,” because you sing it to me every year on my birthday, but you bleep out all the bad words.

EJL: That’s 50 Cent, babe. Since you brought up the birthday song tradition, can you guys tell me what your favorite family tradition is?

Harv: Our Saturday morning trips to the farmers market. Even though you refuse to wait until the end of the trip to buy all of the heavy items because you’re afraid someone might buy “your” squash. Hey, are you going to mention that you didn’t know my birthday for the first two years of our marriage?

EJL: Stop.

Cal: I like our Mother/Daughter trips to Las Vegas every year because you always let me pick the activities. You said that cat circus was highway robbery, but I still think it was the best thing we did on our last trip.

EJL: Those trips are some of my fondest memories. And I appreciate that you’ve adopted my buffet philosophy: No breads. No fruits. Easy on the liquids. Start with the most expensive stuff first.

This question is just for you, Harv. A lot of people think it’s weird that we got married after dating for only 18 days. Well, no one’s really said that to my face, but I think it’s because they have manners. What compelled you to take that chance? And don’t say love or kismet, because I’m not tryna make this into a Hallmark special.

Harv: I don’t think you’re supposed to set parameters like that, but those weren’t my first thoughts anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I do love you, but I married you because I knew my life would never be boring. So, my answer is entertainment value.

EJL: That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.

This isn’t really part of the interview, but if I’m serving milk and cereal for dinner tonight, what do you think would make a good side dish?

Cal: I thought you said you weren’t going to do that anymore.

EJL: Yes, I did say that, didn’t I? We’d better wrap this up then, because I’ve got some microwaving to do. What do you think our family motto should be?

Cal and Harv (at the exact same time, like they rehearsed this shit): Keep it real.

A big shout-out to my family for keeping it real all day, eryday. Thank you for loving me, even when I didn’t love myself.

P.S. I’m so stoked to be a joining Alpha Mom as a monthly contributor! I rarely allow Cal to read anything I write, but she will definitely be keeping up with my new series: “Dear Cal: Advice To My Teenage Daughter.”

P.P.S. For not-seen-on-this-blog pictures, follow along on Instagram (username: flourishinprogress). For (t)hug life thoughts and lots of random shit, like the Flourish in Progress Facebook page. You will probably not be sorry.

May 6, 2013
03.19.13

Monday Dare: Thug Wife

notthug
Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or to learn more about its origin.

This week: Become a rap educationalist

When I stumble across something especially noteworthy, I like to share it with Harv. It’s my way of saying, “I love you, and I think of you first.” Most of the time, we use the convenience of email to send links or pictures, but if the thing I want to share happens to be a song, I will wait until we are face-to-face. Music has always ruled my life, and I want to build moments in my marriage through hi-hats and modulated bass lines.

Harv and Cal were in the middle of practicing some sort of guitar and vocal gospel duet last night when I broke up their Father Daughter Moment with my latest find, Ace Hood’s “Bugatti.” I’m normally not judgmental about rap lyrics, but it seemed a little suspicious to me that anyone could just “wake up in a new Bugatti.” Could that happen to me too? Am I just hoping for things that will never come?

These seemed like important questions, and I trust Harv to give me the hard truth. He’s not afraid to be honest, even when it ends up hurting our love. Like that one time four years into our marriage when he admitted to me that he had never listened to one entire Tupac song.

Now that I’m thinking back, I’m fairly certain that his admission wasn’t just happenstance. He waited until we were in public. We had just eaten a delicious yet reasonably-priced lunch. I was well-rested after eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. That dude planned this shit out like a boss.

Have you ever walked into a pillar in your living room even though you’ve lived in the same house for almost three years and it was daylight and the impact caused so much pain in the middle part of your forehead and the tip of your nose that your vision went blank for just a second?

It felt just like that. But in my heart.

It’s impossible to know everything about your partner when you marry him after dating for just 18 days, but still, you think the details will just work themselves out because our love is so goddamn strong and ain’t nothing and nobody gonna tear us apart and I don’t need a perfect person, just someone who is perfect for me. 

I moved across the country to a town where I knew no one else but my new husband and into a home that I had never even laid eyes on until I become his missus. I missed my friends and my family and the comfort of familiarity.

He told me he liked cats. I took that in stride. He told me he liked the thermostat at 68. I froze my fucking ass off but gazed at him through the icicles forming on my eyelashes with affection. He admitted that he didn’t use coupons, even when they were attached to the item that he was purchasing. I still kissed him before bed that night.

But when he looked through my playlist and repeated name after name in a confused tone, “DJ Khaled? Rick Ross? Three 6 Mafia? E-40? Camp Lo?” SHIT JUST GOT TOO REAL.

I am not a rap pusher, but occasionally, I would share little snippets here and there, just to whet his appetite. I felt like a failure after Harv’s Tupac confession, but still, I just kept right on.

It’s time to step it up a notch. Rap music blasting through our crib, all day eryday. Thug Wife. Thug Life.

Stay connected on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page. Image via Instagram (username: flourishinprogress).

March 19, 2013
08.27.12

Monday Dare: Cake time, fuckers

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link if you’d like to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Act like a lady

You know that look you get when you ask the stranger waiting for her Cheddar Broccoli soup at Corner Bakery to hold your baby for thirty-seven seconds because you really need to pee, but you’re by yourself and you forget to bring the stroller, and it’s really hard to do your business with a baby in your arms? You knew it was a bad idea to leave the house in the first place, but goddammit, the house was starting to smell like rancid baby formula and you just needed to be around people who didn’t shit in their pants? And you know better than to leave the baby with a total stranger, but the thought of getting some alone time in a toilet stall really worked you over?

Well, that’s the look I get when I see a wedding invitation: a mixture of fear and “What the fuck is this bitch talking about?”

Weddings make me nervous. I don’t like them because there are all sorts of rules to follow. I can’t wear white because that’s reserved for the bride. I’m not allowed to swear. I can’t answer phone calls during the ceremony. I’m not allowed to open any of the presents because “they’re not for you, Elizabeth.”

I followed every rule during my brother’s wedding last Saturday, and I STILL got in trouble. Marshall and his bride had a beautiful ceremony followed by a buffet reception at a local church. Since my only ladylike dress is white, I donned the next best thing: a colorful number I wore during my BlogHer Voices of the Year speech a few weeks ago (The video is posted below). Yes, it may have been a little low-cut for a church wedding, but where in the rules does it say anything about low-cut? EXACTLY.

It was clear that my mother was not happy with my attire when I walked into the church, and she forcefully gripped by arm to take me aside. “I’m seeing an awful lots of boobs. This is a House of God.”

“Well, Ma, God made boobies,” I said. It’s hard to argue against that shit, no? I could tell she agreed because she refused to make eye contact with me for the rest of the day.

For five hours, I acted like a lady. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I was really good at it.

My brother and his wife had a photo booth during the reception. Each strip printed twice, one to keep and one to put into an album for the happy couple. After seeing my strip, my brother looked unhappy. “Did you just throw up a gang sign at my wedding?” (Gang sign picture posted on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page)

“Sheesh, Marshall, you didn’t say anything about signs. Just swearing.” It’s so fucking hard to win with this family. I just give and give and they take and take and take and take and take. Why are people so ungrateful?

One of my best friends is getting married this Saturday. On my 32nd birthday. I am a bridesmaid. This is probably where I should mention that I’ve never been a bridesmaid before. But, with the recent wedding practice I’ve had, I’m sure it’ll be smooth-sailing.

Funny wedding stories? Horror stories?
I haven’t gotten a gift for my homegirl yet. What’s the best wedding gift you’ve given or received?

(You can also access the video directly here. It doesn’t play on mobile devices. I’m too stupid to figure it out. Please love me anyway.)

P.S. Let’s get connected on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page. I’ll be posting real-time updates during the five-day wedding extravaganza weekend. Mostly though, I just need to be connected to y’all in case I find myself in a rough spot and need bail money.

image via blueq.com

August 27, 2012