I Admit It. I Have To Do Better.

Sorry, yawl.
(via GIPHY)

I don't know why it is so difficult for me to keep up with my blog. I find myself apologising to you lot more often than not. I'm sorry I haven't been active, and I will try to do better with this.

I. Can't. Even.
(via GfyCat)

Things have seemingly gone to shxt, haven't they? Life as we knew it has become something entirely different. You're locked down in the house. Any plans you had are suddenly up in the air or obliterated. None of the days feel like what they are (every day feels like Sunday to me). Nothing is certain-- not that things were before, but this really is a take-it-day-by-day situation. Moment-by-moment, even. This is how I've had to handle things.

I'm good.
(via GIPHY)

It hasn't been that difficult for me, the lockdown, and I can thank my only-child upbringing for that. I've baked bread, written lyrics, worked on a novel, updated my website, taken some (or started taking some) courses, made plans on how to best utilise my time, and just practised gratitude. I had been doing that in some form or fash anyway, but I have been doing it even more as of late. I really am grateful that I have this crazy clowder, who I love dearly.


I have also been taking more time to chat with my ancestors when I pray. I've begun living my life knowing that they are behind me, beside me, in front of me. I thank them for their contributions and for guiding me every day.

I have also been reading a lot. I can always turn to that when I have nothing else to do. It's one of my favourite pastimes anyway, but I know that if I don't have power, I can always find a flashlight and dig into a book.

It hasn't always been easy-- life still throws challenges at you (Peace broke my Sekhmet's arm off, our property management is being kind of a...pain, where the hell are eggs when you want them, the rum's gone) -- but it's also sent some bright spots (I'll be gifted another Sekhmet, someone gave us some eggs, people have been very generous, I went live on Instagram with one of my homies and did some songs). You take the bitter with the sweet, I suppose.

Yesterday, things finally came to a head for a situation in my life, and I am still reeling from that. I can only hope that this means I can make a way forward unfettered. Hoist my colours and bring me that horizon.

Yeh.
(via GIPHY)

I hope that, despite the fact that I cannot seem to stay blogging or sending a regular newsletter, you will continue to stick by me, GNOtaku. It seems that the wind is changing.

This. Stops. NOW.

GTFO. Bye.

I have been systematically removing all that is not best for my growth or that no longer serves as a positive force in my life--people, places, things, and ideas. Not things that might be challenging or uncomfortable, but shxt that is straight toxic.

Predators posing as house pets. People who say things that cause me to doubt and/or question my own power, or cause me to feel bad about myself--even if they are family. Dismissive, self-important/self-centered people. People who project their own negative beliefs ("I'm old/getting old/too old to change, learn, do something, or better myself" i.e.: "I'm set in my ways so fxck dat") onto myself and others. People who insult me in the guise of humour, or who insult me and then try to clean it up with flattery (like that makes it better. Making someone you care about feel like shxt isn't funny, cute, or constructive--it's poisonous).

Oh, really? You gotta go.

Stagnant energy, anything that hinders, including my and other people's harmful careless thoughts and beliefs. This is up to and including the use of the old name, because if I asked that it not be used and people keep doing so, or refuse to respect my wish to address me by my TRUE name for the sake of their or another's convenience, I take that as they wish me ill or they wan fi test me, and those people have NO place in my life.

Oh, HELL no...👏you. 👏Gotta. 👏GEAUX.

Thoughts are things; words carry energy...and I will not allow that dead-body energy around me. The old name carries that sort of energy. Those limiting beliefs have that sort of energy. Any and all of that needs to go. I have tolerated these, whether they be people, places, or things for too long, and I refuse to allow it in my life anymore. 5D>3D.

No more going along to get along, because that seemed to lead to trouble every time I did it (The TestosterXONE, NCC, certain business deals and purrsonal relationships). No more tolerating  abusive behaviour disguised as "it's just business". No more allowing people to use me or others around me. I will trust my intuition, and yeet this stuff away from me and mine. If it even smells slightly deadly, it's gotta go.

Yeet.

I used to have a three-strikes rule, which got whittled down to one-strike reeeeeal quick once I learnt I was better than that. I used to give second and third chances. I stopped doing that years ago. Realising that I was in relationships with two malignant narcs and friends with narcs--that I was RAISED by narcs-- has FINALLY taught me to guard my energy from ANYONE who even vaguely looks like they are coming for it. I will 👏cut. 👏You. 👏OFF.✂

Nope.

I'm not giving anyone a gun to try to shoot me again because they missed me the first time. "Fxck" and "that"--in that order. I believe in ✂cutting✂ the tumours out, now. I won't live with the disease anymore; it's gotta get cured.

Yeet again. (Another one I had to make but I didn't save the first one. Oops. via GIPHY)

Open Letter To Whichever Con, Venue, or Event Is Guilty

Dear Anime Cons, Pop Culture Cons, Venues, And Other Geeky Events:

I posted this on IG once. Some broad tagged her g/f  with"WTF is she on? LOL"
I answered: "Another level. Next!"
📸credit: L.I.T. Photography

Yeh, so, I'm not visually Japanese or passable for Japanese.
I can't pass the Paper Bag Test or be part of the Blue Vein Society.

I don't have the fabled "good hair".
I'm not size 4. I don't have the ecchi body.

I don't do accurate full-on cosplays because I *am* my own cosplay.
I may not be your idea of kawaii, but frfr: Kawaii isn't *supposed* to be purrfect or the conventional beauty.

I'm not as nerdcore as I'd like to be (haven't found the right producer who has the stones to work with me on it).
I don't have the social media numbers of some of my colleagues.

Yes, I *am* a hip-hop artist.

This doesn't mean I am inappropriate, scary, that ALL my material is riddled with violence or curses or the N-word every three words, or I cannot be "family-friendly". Sure--I do have some stuff with profanity or provocative subject matter because life ain't Mr. Rogers Neighbourhood, but you will *never* hear me purrform any of it at a family event.

Awh. Loved this guy.
(via Tenor)

I am in my own lane, on the same highway as other people of my ilk. I know that some of you have overlooked me for something "safer", something more aesthetically pleasing...more Japanese. I have been in talks with some of you only to be ignored, and see other acts be chosen instead, who get away with using hip-hop in their music influences, and I am no worse than they are. (Yeh. I saw that.)

I totally did.
(via gifs.com)

I may not be any of the things above, but I am professional, I am good at what I do, and at least I'm not visually uninteresting.
I don't think I should be mushed aside because I am not any of the above. I was still relevant to your event. It's not as if you didn't have acts there.

ThaGataNegrra isn't a gimmick, and is just barely an alter ego. This is what you get all the time. I may not be as visually loud when I'm going to Walmart or whatever, but those cat ears may as well be grafted to my head because that's me. ALLA. DAMNED. TIME.

Again: The kawaii is real, not some shxt I made up to seem interesting or appealing.
The geekiness is real, not geek chic like some prominent female rappers I could name.

The ears are worn because channeling totems, not because they cute. If that were the case you'd only see me with them onstage and in pix (Catch me at Shoprite and see if I'm fxcking kidding).

I come to you because where *else* am I going to be appreciated? Certainly not with what you assume is "my kind" musically. But it's like everything else: it's okay if someone not as heavily melanated is doing it. Straight up-- if I could pass the paper bag test...you would be all over me.

Deal with that for a minute. Marinate in it.


A lot of you "nerdy" promoters are fxcking guilty of this harsh fact. Don't think I don't look at your pictures of your events. I do.

I have been lied to numerous times by promoters to deter me from participating in events-- any thing from "The dj doesn't have a mic" to "we don't have the space".

I have been straight ignored by photographers at events for whatever reason.

I've heard some people were afraid I'd outshine them so they didn't book me, which...what the actual hell? REALLY?

In some cases, I'm pretty sure my name has been smeared and rumours spread to cast doubt on me. If you listened or entertained any thoughts that they were true, for even one second, you are an asshole. Yeh--I *said* it. You should have come to me and asked yourself.

Yawl cannot have it both ways. Do *not* smile in my face then stab me in the back. At least have the decency to let me see the knife coming.

That said, I'm gonna thank those who took a chance on me and wasn't scared off by anything. I know that has changed now for a lot of you. It is what it is. I'll live. As I've said before, I don't expect you to get me now.

Maybe you'll see me again. Maybe you won't. Still going to be me with or without you.

It Is What It Is

It might seem odd for me that I'm blogging again so soon but I guess I'm feeling a certain type of way. It may come off as bitter, but I'm just being real, and face it--life ain't always sweet sometimes. This is just me taking inventory and sharing it with you.

This is written in the spirit of honesty and disclosing events in my life...owning up to the fact that everything is not okay in my world, and that I would be less than authentic if I didn't share this with you, GNOtaku (and the haters, as well).

I've been reflecting lately on the fact that even though I'm supposed to have this great team of people behind me, I am actually alone and on my own.

I think I said once before, back when we were still being distributed by another company, how it felt like everyone had distanced themselves from the GATA City project except me, and that I supposed it was my turn. And I guess I distanced myself a bit, too, out of protest, even though it was the only material I had to perform. 

Now that we are no longer being distributed by that company, I put a fair amount of enthusiasm again into promoting the project...and, again, it seems like I'm the only one who cares to do so.

My resources are limited, admittedly. I am single-handedly running the hardcore administrative duties, promotion/marketing, social media. I have someone who goes through my mail and someone who manages me. But for the most part, it's all me.

With the exception of one of the CEOs reposting what I post to people who couldn't care less (or maybe they could; wrong audience), I'm the only one who seems to care what happens enough to do the "legwork", so to speak, anymore.

A total of four credited writers (including myself) and two guests are on the album, names and all, and yet, I'm the only one posting any of its achievements, or promoting my shows, or anything like that. I'm the one taking classes, and trying to figure out everything.

A pretty big performance is coming up in my life, and I can't even get full support for that without balking or strings or indifference. In fact, the last time I had support from anyone of the writing team as far as the performances go was years ago. The most important person on my team/The Label's team who was able to do something and didn't feel like they were "too old" to do it moved away to get his life. You would think he'd still help via social media--and he did in the beginning--but he lost interest, threw me under the bus in certain cases, and I'm pretty much left on my own on the promoting front as far as the "legwork". I'm guessing it was because his friends didn't appreciate the the work he put into it and put it down because they thought it was a bullshxt project cuz it wasn't full of curses and gangsta-isms, blatant typical-female-rapper-style sexuality, and other shxt I don't do.

Now, there are certain things that I am being mistrusted to handle since, I guess, the new business model and the way the independent music industry now works is not working for The Label, and, as I pointed out before, resources from them are limited. Certain vital things that are the lifeblood of getting new fans. I can try to stay positive all I want, but the fact still remains that a potential fan--someone who doesn't know me from Adam's housecat-- will more than likely balk at paying full price for music, and that is going to hurt me in the long term. Not even established musicians are making money off music sales! To choose short-term profit over potential future money is possible career suicide. Oh, sure, The Label might make its investment back, but I will have lost more long-term customers. I mean, even drug dealers give free samples.

The reason why they don't know me is that proper promo never happened, the timing of proper promo never happened. Nothing was structured, GATA City didn't even have a proper video until a year after it was released. It should have been a year before its release at the most. They expected that the album would sell on its own because the music was good, with very little advertising, and just on the strength of me doing shows. Every idea and well-researched suggestion I put forth regarding its promotion and handling was initially shot down, with me being told I needed to "focus on the show and making good music" when that day in the industry--that way of handling things-- had passed. Then, a year later, suddenly my ideas made sense...but still met with much skepticism. I'm still going through this struggle now. The rules are different, yet they still want to play by the old rulebook...and my hands are tied.

Me.

I did and still do all I can to put my name out there myself, but it's not enough, and what I do manage to get accomplished is tainted by someone else glomming onto what achievements I do make by using constant confusion, lies, sabotage, and subterfuge. Yay.

Yay.

So, along with this and the unfortunate infiltration of aforementioned glomming demonic forces on something that was super important to me, the future is looking uncertain. Here I am-- again-- being forced by too many people to hide my light under a bushel. It's just perfect that one of these people happens to be the infiltrator and even more perfect that they are being helped along by the very people who said they wouldn't allow it to happen. The team who are supposed to support me don't care and don't understand how important the event is to me, and NOBODY seems to understand how a person who was and is still coming for my life--literally--is a huge detriment to my success there. (Sidebar: if you ever need to get a restraining order on someone and you think even once about dissolving it-- DON'T. You will indeed regret it eventually.)

How much do you want to bet that if something huge and good and groundbreaking does eventually come of the GATA City project, suddenly everyone will give a shxt about the cause, including but not limited to the other writers on the project? Then it will be theirs, too, and not just mine. It will be "our" victory, "our" baby. Then, people will want to claim it and me, say they always believed in me, they "knew me when", maybe even go as far as to say they taught me all I know and other BS. Never mind I've been working on pushing this one project for four years alone amidst life struggles and deaths and my health and everything.

I'm on my own out here. I'm doing all I can to help others so I can, in turn, help myself, and in turn, help them, but I. Am. Mostly. On. My. Own.

Yawl can sit there and pay lip service to "I got your back" and "You're not alone in this" and "It will get better" and whatever...but the fact still remains that...OnMyOwn. Like Patti LaBelle.

It is what it is.

On Finding Out You're Not Such a Crappy Parent After All

This past weekend, we laid my Tomcat's (my eldest son) father to rest. Upon hearing the news, my boy was amazingly strong, yet he'd expressed concern about not feeling more immediate grief about his passing. I reassured him that whatever he was feeling was okay, and that no-one would judge him for his feelings, and that everyone here would be there for him if he needed us. After a bit of a cry from most of us here Lairside, he seemed strengthened, and carried on as usual.

Soon after, he wrote this... incredible status on his Facebook regarding how he felt/his goodbye to his father:

 It was extremely well-received by not only people on his and my friendlists, but by family members and friends of the family he did not know.

He was asked to read his good-bye at the memorial service, and both before and after the service, people were so good to my son and said such nice things to me about how well-mannered and intelligent he was. Some even encouraged him to consider attending the college his father attended.

It was a bit overwhelming but gratifying to know that the work (and I use that word loosely, because it really wasn't work at all; it was a privilege) I put into making sure my boy loved to read, encouraging him to express himself, teaching him to be his own person, and insisting that he use his manners, if nothing else, was not in vain. To receive confirmation that he is indeed a wonderful kid is the best gift and comfort I could ever get.

I'm probably the happiest weirdo parent in the world right now. Thank you to everyone who was so sweet to my boy, and thank you for confirming that I'm not such a bad parent as was previously said.

Thank you, my beautiful boy, for being you.

And, thank you, Jermaine, for giving me our brilliant son. For that I will always be grateful.
Rest well.

Adventures In Finding a New Unison Phunk Regime Recruit

::sigh::
Good Lord...talk about a laborious undertaking.
We used to have a pretty great relationship with a dancer who was young and funny and rather skilled. I like to treat the dancers like family--not as an accessory. He was like a younger brother...and he up and moved to Florida, because NJ wasn't treating him very well, to nutshell it. He's doing much better in Florida, and we're very proud of him.
But that left me with no dancer... for nearly a year. This didn't help my confidence in the act much at all. So I stopped looking and got really bummed about it. I was starting to wonder if the position was jinxed like the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position of Harry Potter lore.

See? Like that.

So recently, we aggressively recruited for a show that fell into my lap, promising pay. Of course, all of the sudden people we'd asked before-- and who gave no real response-- were eager to comply.

Okay, maybe it wasn't this serious.

Now we have our pick, but it's still not easy. Schedules, lives, work, everything. Wondering if they'll be a good fit. Wondering if they take this as seriously as we do. Hoping against hope that they can actually dance and that they won't bxtch and moan about having to hear my stuff over and over again (yes... this actually happened once). Praying that they'll do the work.

I remember the kid I mentioned earlier admitted, months after he got the gig, that he actually showed up to the audition smashed. On Everclear, of all things. We couldn't tell! I asked why he felt he had to show up like that, and he said he was afraid I'd be a taskmaster, like Debbie Allen in Fame or something.

He was right on part of that, in that I do tend to be a bit of a perfectionist, but, to be fair, he hadn't even met me yet before the audition, so that struck me as some serious foresight on his part.

But I digress...

The process of finding the right person is annoying. At one point I was getting resumes from dancers that were waaay out of the spectrum in which I was searching. These people had credits like you wouldn't believe! All I wanted was a good-looking dude with a good personality who could keep up with Peace, wear the clothes, do the work, be professional, and come to rehearsal regularly. Not Grand Jete UberDanser of the New York City UberDansers.

And then I was getting the odd person who wanted to dance because they went to the club and someone told them they were good, and they send a video and they look like

Oy.

Then it was I'd find someone who might be awesome for the role, and they hear what they're potentially getting into, and never respond again. Well, eff you, too, LOL.

As I write this, I'm already in a panic because the person we chose so far is flaking, and I don't take to flakes kindly. People who know me know this. I will cut you off completely if I find you are a flake, and at this point in my life, I have dispensed with my usual three-strike rule. You flake once, yer out.

I'll just move on to the next on the list if I have to.

Yup. We're done.

I have faith that someday, we'll find the right fit. Until then, I'll keep looking and working with who the universe brings me.

I Need To Be Free! (or: "I Need To Dance...Like, NOW"*)

The need to shake my kitteh tail is O. VER. WHELMING.

I...must...DANCE!!!

I don't mean like, go-to-the-club dance...I mean put-in-like-five-or-six-hours-a-day-in-rehearsal dance.
I used to go to a dance academy on a scholarship when I was a teen, taking five disciplines in one week...and then had to go and TEACH dance in the middle of all that. My body actually misses doing this. I think it was the happiest time of my life...with the exception of ballet, because I am low to the ground. I preferred the grounded-ness of hip-hop and house styles. But I still loved ballet in spite of myself. This time in school even helped inspire my first novel...but that's a different subject altogether. (^_^)

It's funny... because as a Gatita, I had absolutely NO rhythm. Couldn't even jump rope. Man, did I get made fun of! But eventually, with some guidance (thank you, mi amor) and some practise on my own (and a fxckton of music videos), I got it together. Yet, I eventually let it fall by the wayside.

Why?

 I think being responsible and putting all my focus into being a mami, dealing with depression, then not going out to dance as much until I stopped altogether...plus being forced to hide my light under a bushel in certain relationships... then the weight gain-- all of that took its toll. And it didn't help when people in my own camp seemed to belittle the dance part of this brand. Never mind that most of the music involved in it is danceable.

Well... since dance is a big part of the GATA Experience, I have to pull up bootstraps and get dance-ready again. And with Peace's help/participation, I'm slamming myself back into a disciplined bootcamp thing. I need to do this for me and for my spirit...gotta be happy, y'know?

Well, mebbe not THIS happy. But close.

I'll be sharing as much of this journey as my pride will allow. You know us felines. We're a proud bunch. We don't like for folx to see us fall on our faces-- even though when we do, we get up and act like it never happened and totes ignore those who maliciously point it out.

Whoopsie. And recovery!

We'd rather show you all the times we land on our feet with grace. But I believe grace is also showing vulnerability as well--divine grace. What better reason, I ask you?
It's going to take some time, but I hope to be back to fighting form in a few months at the least with the plan I have for myself. The body doesn't forget...even though there's folx out there who think  mine has and I won't or I can't do this (::cough:: FXCK OFF!::cough::).

Okay... even better when Prince sez it.

So, GNOtaku--keep your eyes on my YouTube channel to see me fall on my face get my kitteh shake on...if you wanna!

*reference to this...of course!

Cat's Jumping Out Of The Bag--Again

I was up waaaaayyyy too early yesterday morning and bumped into the rest of that Twitter media explosion about Iggy Azalea, Azealia Banks, Solange, Q-Tip, T.I., and God-knows-who-else. Somewhere in there I saw a barrage of tweets regarding Iggy failing to properly freestyle. Some of these gave me a good giggle:

Reporter: Iggy, freestyle for us Iggy: OK Iggy: SomeBODY once told me the world was gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, sh
— patrick (@pattymo) December 29, 2014

"iggy, freestyle for us!" Iggy: "lol ok" Iggy: Iggy Iggy Bo Biggy, Banna fanna fo Figgy, Fee Fy Fo Miggy, Iggy!
— Dory (@Dory) December 29, 2014

INTERVIEWER: IGGY FREESTYLE FOR US! IGGY: https://t.co/PlJBwmZdR3
— The Kid Mero (@THEKIDMERO) December 28, 2014

(Sorry about the Vine link. It went missing. This is what was there [start at :05]:)

I couldn't. I just couldn't. That last one had me lying on the floor with a lily in my hands.

But I also saw a lot of people calling for Iggy to go up against the likes of Azealia, Minaj, et al, in a head-to-head freestyle battle. The general consensus is that Iggy would go down in flames and it'd all end in tears. Don't shoot the messenger. Google it yourself; search Twitter.

"How does she call herself a rapper and don't even freestyle?" more than one wondered.

And this was me:

(Had to actually make this one, cuz it didn't exist till now!)

Hol' up. Uh-oh.
Well, to be honest, this has been at the back of my mind for years...in fact, I think I even said something about it on my website:

Yup. I did.

I am, and always have been, a rapper who exclusively writes. I have always also been transparent about that fact. It has never been my strong suit. I have a few reasons for why I don't, too.

First off...that's not how I learned. I was always under the impression that you wrote lyrics. Like, on paper. With a pen. That's ALL I ever did. So I'm really not accustomed to off-the-top-of-my-headness, really. I know that I can come up with rhyming words, yes, but I kind of... construct lines as opposed to just going, "Blah". This is not to say that people who can and do freestyle aren't constructing lines; it's just in a different way that I didn't learn.

Which brings me to the next thing. I don't have that seemingly effortless mind-to-mouth connect flow. My mind goes waaayyyy faster than my mouth (damned Virgo). So by the time I get anything out, I'm fxcked already. Oh sure, I can prolly come up with plenty of words, but getting them out in a flow off the top of my nekomimi?

Yep. Nope.

There is also the issue of the rhyme actually making some kind of sense. I have seen freestylers do that and come out sounding like they wrote it, but not always successfully. I need for my words to loop, ebb, flow and do interesting shxt. I'm doing incantations sometimes, LOL. It requires ink and paper. I'll say the line first, then write it down. That's all there is to it.

I never really saw the point of battling--as far as me. I wasn't about slugging it out verbally to gain dominion. I just wanted to be a part of the experience-- of the culture. It spoke to me at a very young age. It had already infiltrated my immediate family via my cousins, who had a dance troupe, and it seemed that everything they did (in Newark, anyway) eventually was adopted by other dancers who were inspired by them. Since I bloody well wasn't gonna ask them to teach me to dance, little rhythmless Gatita just watched from the sidelines. And once I knew most of the songs they had played, I knew I was gonna go in that direction--be an MC. It was challenging for me.
I come from a songwriting background. 'Nuff said.

In spite of the fact that I don't freestyle, I still craft bars. I've dropped some bombs--and I'm not saying this to sound like I'm the be-all end-all--people have literally said I dropped them. And it is very humbling to find out that people who I thought didn't like me much, actually had the utmost respect for my "lyricism", as they put it.

I'm not gonna say ”I can't”, because that's limiting. I say ”I don't”, because that much is true. But this issue coming up--again-- sometimes does have the insecure side of me kinda doubting myself, TBH. Questioning if I'd be considered a ”real” rapper/MC. And does that really matter, in the grand scheme of things? ::shrugs::

I can only guess it depends on your own perspective. I saw someone say that Iggy not being able to freestyle is like a singer saying they can't sing.

Uhm...what?

Bruh. Singers...usually end up having to sing LYRICS. That were WRITTEN. WITH A PEN (or MasterWriter or what have you). And sometimes, BY SOMEBODY ELSE. Not a great argument; buh-bye.

I think that if you are indeed a rapper/MC by vocation, balls deep in the culture, and you can execute the words you wrote with a sick flow, and blow at least most of the room away (you always gonna have a few haters), you ARE a real MC. I can and have done those things, but art usually requires tools. Painters need brushes (or spray cans...see what I did there?) and "canvas" (wall, face, actual canvas) to paint, bakers need pans and a mixer to bake, contractors need tools to build...I need a pen and paper...and, of course, my brain.

That's my (TRUE) tale...and I'm sticking to it, mane.

And walking off just like this.

I've Been Putting This Off...

Not sure why. But I know I have been meaning to do it despite its personal subject matter. So get comfy, grab a coffee or something, cuz it's that kinda story.

I think a few posts back I mentioned that I'd lost a family member to cancer. Since then, I have lost some more family members to cancer, and last summer I found out that my eldest's sire is also being stalked by the beast, and that a few people in my working circle have either had scares or have also lost loved ones to this monster. It seemed inevitable that I might be in those ranks myself. Mind you; I wasn't being pessimistic--I was simply looking at it from an odds POV.

Let me tell you a bit about a personal slice of Past-Life:
When I was a teenager, I was sexually assaulted. Because of where I was at the time, it happened nearly nightly (give or take a night or two) for approximately a month. It is a long story I will not get into here, but I will say that it left me with a few parting gifts. ::severely sarcastic font on:: One of these gifts kept on giving, and its name was human papilloma virus.

It showed up as a blemish/wart on my cervix, which was biopsied, and then not explained to me nor was it heard from for years. I didn't even know it had a name--they made it sound like the simplest thing; they cut it off and poof-! Gone. It showed up again years later-- wart-on-cervix, biopsied, but that time the doctor I was seeing was kind enough to explain what it was. I was mortified...but then I remembered the term for the method they used to take the biopsy, and I had only ever heard the word once before in my life: when I had the first biopsy. It was "colposcopy". I put two and two together and asked, "So is it possible I've had it all this time?"
"Yes," doc said. "It could have lain dormant all this time."

 Didn't help me feel better. I was still mortified...but the doctor then reassured me that HPV was, in fact, so common, and there were so many strains of it, that eighty percent of the population have it, and/or probably will get it once in their lifetimes.
Eighty. Percent.
WTF.
Still didn't help me feel any better, LOL.

So, again, I didn't give it any more thought, save for me being responsible enough to tell past and current partners, even though it may not have been necessary (I was quite careful, and not all strains stick around). I figured radical acceptance was the way to go. It was what it was.

Last year around Yuletide, I got the news that I had an abnormal Pap, I would need yet another colposcopy-- which I got-- and when the results came back...I wasn't happy.

There are low-risk strains and high-risk strains of HPV. It turned out that I had a high-risk strain of HPV that is known to cause cancer, and that I was in what they called CIN 1 or mild cervical dysplasia. Also, LGSIL. Why this shxt has so many names is beyond me, but they all mean "Hey, you have abnormal and possibly precancerous cells on your cervix. You should prolly get that taken care of."

The doctor sat me down and explained what my options were. They sent the biopsy out for further study to see if I would need a surgical option. There were a few methods of killing the abnormal cells, and I had all of the ones he performed laid out before me. After much freaking out, I did what I do best: I researched the fxck out of things and armed myself with information. And the things I found weren't pretty, but they were supposed to save my life.

It turned out that the cells were abnormal enough to warrant a procedure called a LEEP conisation. That is a link to a description, but if you're feeling brave, go look it up on YouTube. I did. I had to know what was going to happen.

Hoo, buddy. I didn't see how a cervix could ever be normal again after that. I was scared and upset, but I knew it had to be done. I have cubs and a loving partner who need me.

My family was concerned--especially my Mami, who had tangled with cervical cancer herself so she was really, really worried. So was I, of course, but I just accepted it. It was what it was, and rather than crawl in a hole and wait for it to turn into thirty different things, I was going to do something about it.

I had the procedure earlier this year, and willed myself to heal. I had a follow-up shortly after, and was told they got all the abnormal cells and that I was healing nicely. I was told to come back for a follow-up Pap in a few months.
I recently had said Pap and am waiting for the results. The doctor did say to me that my cervix looked pretty good, so paws crossed.

I'm sharing this because I want you all, GNOtaku, to be careful. Back then, the vaccine for this didn't exist yet, and even now there is some debate as to whether or not it is effective or even safe for young people to have. The best course of action if you are already sexually active is to make sure you get an annual Pap smear, ladies, to stay on top of it. Guys, talk to your sexual partners ( as of this date there is no approved test for HPV "status" but there are tests to screen for cervical cancer in women 30 years and older), and everyone stay wrapped up. It's the responsibility of BOTH partners to bring and use condoms. The ultimate defense is to not have sex at all. In my case, unfortunately, I didn't have a choice or say in the matter.

HPV is sneaky in that most people don't even know they have it because there are no symptoms. Some might not know until they get genital warts or until other complications arise from it.

Read this and get the facts about it. Make sure you stay safe out there. Do your research about the vaccine and see if you are eligible to get it and if it is right for you. I'm not advocating the vaccine, but I'm not condemning it either. Find the best option for you.

I'm feeling pretty positive about my chances. I know that it is something I need to make sure I stay on top of if I want to stay healthy. I am making changes in my diet and lifestyle to ensure that I am less likely to have a problem down the road. I'm positive I'm going to be just fine.

Stay safe.

Humility, Motherfxcker--Do You Speak It?!

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less."--C. S. Lewis

"The first test of a truly great man is his humility. By humility I don't mean doubt of his powers or hesitation in speaking his opinion, but merely an understanding of the relationship of what he can say and what he can do." --John Ruskin

I chose that title because it was the first thing I thought of when I got the notion to write this. I'd thought of  the proceeding incidents, and then of the catalyst of said incidents, and then realised the type of mindset I was actually dealing with...let's just say the type you take with a very tiny grain of salt.
That, and I thought of Sam Jackson's line in Pulp Fiction.

It was brought to my attention awhile back that because I am dead honest about my strengths and my weaknesses, certain people had some really stupid names to call me. I need to mention, I suppose, that these aforementioned people wouldn't know humility from the hole in their arse, so I imagine such a concept is lost on them if they think me pointing these things out about myself is stupid.

Anyway...I've also noticed that people also take this as me being "down on myself". Now while I will be first to admit I have a tendency to be a bit self-deprecating, in this life I am less about putting myself down and more about being brutally honest with myself, contrary to what some people would have you think. All I ever do is take inventory.

One thing I've noticed--and especially amongst people of colour--AND amongst those in my genre-- is if you're not constantly bragging about how badass you are, or what shxt you have, or how many bxtches/nxggas you pull, or how yer "living/lovinglife and doing you", you pretty much are negative, or worse, nothing. If you state the situation as real as it is, you are accused of being negative. It's always the realist that's negative. It's not even about putting it into the air, so much as putting it into the air so you know where you stand, and can begin to assess and change it.

I have never been a person to assert things about myself that weren't true. At all. I know what my strengths are. I just don't go round overtly beating the world over the head with it. I'm an emcee; of course at some point I'm gonna be like, "I can turn a phrase/leave yer ass amazed" or some shxt like that (see what I did there?). It's my job. But I'm not gonna flat-out lie, or "fake it till I make it". Just not my style. I've pushed down sadness to get through things, but not before I've gone off and had a bit of a vent about it somewhere someone couldn't see. Not everything is meant for the world's eyes.

I know what my weaknesses are. I don't let everyone know about all of them, but I don't hide them all, either. Some are glaringly obvious and I will alert people to them if I feel it's necessary, partly because it allows me to improve. I don't see how that makes me negative, or a "dunce" (Jesus, what an old-fashioned word). If anything, it makes me very aware of who I am, which is more than can be said for a lot of people. In that, I think there's positivity. What could be more positive than honesty? Yawl talk all this noise about "keeping it real" and get mad when someone actually does. Wow.

I was always taught to be humble. Sometimes I think it was drilled home a little too hard, in that the result is I don't run around tooting my own horn like an egomaniac. Sometimes you have to toot your own horn to the right people. Yet if you're a party horn trying to come off like a vuvuzela...that's a problem.

Cocky does not equal confident. There seem to be a lot of people deluding themselves on that. If you have to constantly yell at the world how great you are, then you must not really be that great. The world can see right through veneers like that. Why bother, when I could just be me? If I'm not good enough for you, then fxck you, basically. I'll find those I AM good enough for.

Behaving as if I have delusions of grandeur just isn't me. I told yawl "straight, no chaser" and I meant it.
So, when someone says I'm "acting big and bad", they couldn't BE more wrong. Sometimes people can project their own fail onto others; they assume that's how the person they are accusing of that is behaving because it's something THEY themselves would do, when the reality is they couldn't be further from the truth. Leave your ego in its case. Don't hang it on me like a petulant child.

And don't judge me if I should say something that you perceive as "negative" or me putting myself down. Look closer. You might see the rarest of truths.