antrozay-blog

[antrozay-blog]

Jackie’s Back

That is a great way to start this blog post, coming off The Breakfast Club interview with the Legendary Jenifer Lewis. I LOVEE her! I’ve watched that 1:03:11 long interview no less than 7 times since it aired a few days ago online. I’ve seen almost everything Jenifer has played in expect the movie Jackie’s Back. So I found it on youtube and watched it for free. The movie is basically about a has-been singer who never was and she’s trying to make one last comeback. I feel that premise fits my life perfectly right now. It’s about midnight right now and I needed a few hours to calm myself down before I even wanted to start this post. I’m typing this in the legendary notes app on my phone. The plan is to copy and paste to my tumblr blog. I will see if I want to do that, but as for now me typing this is just being used as an additional outlet besides me talking to one of my instructors Kevin and my mentor Miguel. I’m currently listening to Sweet Sexy Savage by Kehlani. It is one of my favorite albums released last year that I feel deserved a Grammy. CTRL by Sza too, but we are not here to talk about that. What I am here to talk about? I don’t know where to begin. Ill start with what currently happened which brought on my current hyper/hypo emotional state and I will work myself backwards. Today was suppose to be the day that I finally take my state boards exams for my barbers license. (Shit I don’t think I told y’all I was in barber school this whole past year. A nigga really did what he said he was going to do!) I didn’t go because my model called me literally an hour before we were to leave to the testing site, saying that he was ill with the flu and that he was not going to be able to make it. I kinda had a feeling that this was going to happen. At 8am I got a text from him saying he was up throwing up all night. So I’m like ok, it’s 8am and testing isn’t until 6pm so that should be plenty of time for him to rest up and get himself together for this. Basically I went the whole day just praying to God that he get better and everything goes as planned opposed to studying and reviewing like i had planned. I’m not mad...I can’t be. He was ill and you can’t control that. I believe his story. He’s not the type to lie. Plus he was soo down to help and be apart of everything I have been doing. He used to come to the school and get his haircut by me. It just fucking sucks when I was literally right there. Finally going to complete it all. And everyone knows, or probably doesn’t know that I was suppose to been have gotten my license. I started at the Barber College Feb 2017. I graduated (well i competed my 1800 hours) in Feb 2018 like the course catalog said I would. It was a good experience that ended too fast in my opinion. I met some great people there; people that I will consider my brothers for life. I don’t think i will give an in-depth review on the school itself. I don’t feel like it. So like I was saying, I competed my hours in the middle of Feb. I didn’t get my diploma until March because I still owed $1500 on my tuition. I had the money but I wasn’t in a great rush to pay it off because truth be told I didn’t have any barbershops lined up after completion so I didn’t rush paying it. When I finally paid it off, I was suppose to schedule my testing for my license immediately. Most people already have their dates already set up for like the following week of being totally finished with school. I didn’t go right away because I didn’t have a model lined up. You’re suppose to have a model that has to fit a bunch of different requirements about age, how much hair they have to have, how much hair you have to cut off, and they do a background check and a bunch of extra shit. It’s a big thing and it was hard to find the perfect model that fit and also that can be available during the testing time which is a whole 3 hour process. Fast forward to April when I knew that I was putting this shit off for way too long and it’s time to get serious again. I’ve been doing a few house cuts here and there and also working in a barbershop called Platinum Cuts on the weekends while still working my restaurant job just enough hours to pay my bills. I knew I still had shit to do in regards to my license. After asking everyone I could think of to be my model, and getting no’s, I finally found one person. Ok bet! I got my model. I told him everything that was told to me about the requirements, background check, testing center location, testing time and all that. And i’m like “are you sure that you can do this?! once i submit your name and pay my fees you have to be my model, i can’t cancel, change models or reschedule without forfeiting the fees that i have to pay.” Roughly $200. He’s like “yes, I’m available I can do it.” Mind you, I gave him the two dates that were offered to me for testing and the testing time on the 2nd of May wasn’t good for him because he needed work done on his car. So we chose the 16th. That worked better for the both of us because i still needed to study and review all over again. Plus at the time of us scheduling, the 2nd was like a few days away. Everything was going good. I was texting back and forth with him just letting him know don’t forget, asking if everything good with him and his car and shit like that. Just staying fresh in his mind so we can get this shit done and over with. All of this for him to cancel literally last minute. FUCK! This is all just embarrassing. Having technically been done with school since Feb and I’m still not licensed nor working consistently in a barbershop. It’s a real self esteem killer. Most of the guys that I went to school with are in shops or have started their own shops. They are making money and prospering in this field and i want to be just like that. I have so many people on my side telling me how good of a barber I am, how inspiring i am, and that I should be doing a lot more than what i’m doing now. I totally agree. I need to be working consistently, cutting consistently and challenging myself everyday. I know that it’s all coming from a place of love. You have to want it for yourself. I can honestly and vulnerably say that I haven’t felt the most confident lately i’ve basically been in dark cloud of depression since Feb. I haven’t felt this low since before I started Barber College, somewhere around the time of my last post probably. It’s a huge transition from Barber College. I totally understand how university students get depressed after graduating because they can’t find jobs and end up moving back home. I can humbly say I was one of the good students there, especially towards my last few months. Im not saying I was the best hair cutter, I wasn’t and will never claim to have been. I was good. i had clientele and stayed busy for the most part. I was doing like 8-10 haircuts on a regular day. Slave labor without pay lol. I was consistent with my attendance. Which was very helpful because all the other guys that were better than me were not consistent with their attendance. Some of them have been going to the school for years. Some are even still there. The school is designed to be a one year program. I think some people think of it as their job. We could accept tips up there so they might be banking. I was pretty damn good for barely cutting hair before I started. I could do a line up, an all even and trash taper. I was cutting my own hair for 5 years prior but never cut anyone else’s hair. I was trash then compared to now lol. Growth. But going from feeling like you the shit, being told you’re the shit, being hyped up daily, having people watching you and asking you questions to actually starting at he bottom in a shop with no clientele is a major shock. That shit really had me in my feelings and questioning myself, others, my skills and it this shit really for me. It’s not the shop that I worked at (past tense) because it’s been like 3 weekends since I’ve gone back and I don’t think I want to go back. The shop owner was actually my barber from middle school up until I met my barber/mentor Ronnie in 2009. So I’m familiar with the owner, Q. He had his own shop for 10 years and he’s the only barber in there. He’s had people work beside him from time to time over the years but no one ever stayed long. He’s already got his clientele on lock. My shop expectations are: be surrounded by people i respect and get along with meet people I can learn from and take advice from be in a shop that allows growth, creativity and room to just do and be me. I don’t want to say his shop didn’t offer none of that but again, his shop is his shop. not really a full staff of ppl kinda environment. I’m looking for a shop with a lot more traffic and walk ins. When you are just starting out cutting hair, that’s what you need. Walk ins to help you build up your own clientele. let’s everyone in the shop know you can cut and they see you cut. I’m not going to talk about the hotep conspiracy theories i had to listen to. The hotep youtube pastor we watched on tv daily in there who’s favorite topics were feminization of the black male and gays. But I’ll lowkey take all of that over the hood ass shops that my weak ass town has to offer. Also I wasn’t a fan of the percentage I was paying to cut there. When first starting out you usually pay a percentage (commission) until your clientele is up enough for you to pay booth rent. I’d rather just cut at home and be able to keep all my money. I want to find another shop to work at in the meantime before I move. Oh I don’t know if I told y’all, I’m moving to Atlanta in August. I put 6 months on my apartment lease back in Feb. It’s a lot of things that I could be doing to push myself and better myself right now to get me out this depression, but I feel like why should I put in that hard work now when i’m just going to be moving away in a few months. Getting established in a shop, building clientele that I’ll prolly only cut a few times. It’s just a lot going on at the moment in my life and my focus is everywhere, yet still no where to be honest. I know what kind of barber I want to be and what type of environment I want to work in and I don’t think that Lansing has that to offer me. All my school mates know this to be true too. They know I’m different. lol. So with my fingers crossed, I’m hoping that Atlanta will treat me right. I don’t want to talk to much about Atlanta because I’ll save that for another post. Hopefully not a whole ass two years or whatever. But I will when I get settled in or when I remember that I have a blog lol. I want to stop blogging only when I’m like knocking on depressions basement door trying to get out and blog more happier feelings and thoughts. Kehlani’s album just finished playing. I think I’m going to wrap this up with my last topic; support. Why don’t we support one another? I know that I shouldn’t be expecting or seeking support or validation from others, but fuck, we all wanna get our ego stoked a little bit. we want feedback and an occasional YASSS. I do expect something. I feel like i support, have supported a lot of people. I like your music, retweet your pictures, subscribe to your podcasts and give you your life when you deserve it. I don’t get that in return. Just like this blog, i’m glad i’m doing it for the betterment of be and not for y’all to car about me. No one would probably read this anyway. There is a handful of people that truly support me. I can count on one hand. I’m so very thankful for them. Then there is the people who see my haircut pictures online and won’t like them but in person will mention to me how dope I am at cutting. Then that’s when they give that fake “when can you cut my hair” but when I call them on it and and hold them accountable for asking for a cut and tell them to come thru, they all of a sudden busy or not responding anymore. I hate that. Sometimes you need to feel a little boost and a little support from others. Affirmation. Just a simple like, retweet, or a “I see you nigga!” comment. Something. I don’t want to say it’s hate. I don’t like to use that word and I don’t want to believe that people actually hate on me. I think people need to get comfortable in themselves and in what they are doing so we can show love to one another. idk. I’m tired and I’m probably not making any sense right now. I don’t feel like proof reading this and uploading it to tumblr either. Good night.

[antrozay-blog]

Edible Arrangements

Currently listening to Coloring Book an album from Chance the Rapper. It was either this or that Kirk Franklin album with Melodies from Heaven that everyone, even all non church goers should know. I had a random almost fall to my knees moment with that album last Monday in my bedroom. So I just decided to come on here and talk to myself as I know no one else really gives a fuck about me or wants to hear me cry about mostly the same things over and over. What brought me here tonight, was an edible. I was giving a piece of an edible gummy bear and I hesitated to eat it. Mind you, other than a few times in like 2011, I haven't done any type of drug since high school. I never was a “weed head” at heart. I did it for recreational at school and on weekends everyday. It was just what me and my circle of friends did, that and stand outside hood ass liquor stores and beg crackheads to buy us cheap ass bottom shelf ass liquor and cigarettes and other stupid shit. Looking back that was funny because we used to make the girls in the group push they titties up and go beg niggas to cop for us. We was desperate. But I eventually stopped smoking because my “trips” started to turn bad. I would find myself becoming overly depressed and become anxious and I didn't like the feeling. Matter of fact I think I stopped the day was when Pretty Ricky released the Cuddle Up video on 106 & Park with Butta Creame. I wonder what ever happened to both of those groups. Anyway, Its been a while since I had been high and I wanted to do it for old time sakes given my current station in life. 

Ill spare the details, long story short I received the gummy Friday night and the plan was to take it Saturday on my day off. I ate half of it because I was instructed to and plus I haven't had an edible before except in 2004 in 9th grade when I had a brownie. Weed has changed since then so I didn't want to die. Ate half, didn't feel anything. 3 hours late I said fuck it and ate the other half. about 2 hours after that, while sitting on the toilet, deep cleaning my shower walls and shit, it hit me. I was low-key pumped like ITS GO TIME. Mind you, I had been cleaning this whole time, washing clothes, dusting, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming the whole 9. I had even found time to grocery shop and make spaghetti with meatballs and fried chicken. So my house is clean, my chores are done, food is done and I'm high. Bet. So I want to enjoy this so I decide to eat and watch a movie on Netflix. The movie I chose was Saving Private Ryan. I heard about it since forever but just never seen that movie for some reason. I was indian style sitting on the living room floor and eating. Then Ill just say next thing I knew I was in the fetal position hugging my pillow in tears. Sad movie. Great movie. Sad none the less. So after I watched it I got in my feelings and started feeling depressed and emotional. Needing someone with me yet still be left alone. The same feelings Ive been having for quite some time. All of the summer. Some time before that as well. You can read other posts but I was depressed sometime before and I thought that moving out on my own and that whole bit would wake me up. Which it did. For some months. I was happy, excited, loving my place, shopping for it every weekend. I had so many D.I.Y. projects to do. Some got accomplished, some did not. I was on top of the world. The my apartment became complete so there was little less to be done. I found myself getting into a depressed state again. I tried to push through and keep my thoughts good. But slowly and slowly I began to shut down. I stopped talking to coworkers casually if it wasn't work related. I began to not respond to texts before eventually just turning all my text messages to the Do Not Disturb feature. So no contact with family, friends, my mom, no one. My mom then began to call me more frequently instead of text. I think she knew something was up. My sister too. I do not know why I melt down this way. I even stop posting on social media. Social media is ok. I have acquaintances on there, people to talk about bullshit. what ever the timeline is discussing or arguing at the moment. But even then I always felt some disconnect with “twitter people” I mean some of them are cool or whatever but they aren't my “real” friends. Friends that know me, call me, and know me by sometime other than what I show on the timeline. Then mostly I always feel, and have been told by that fat fuck from New York... you know what Im not going there, that basically I only have friends because people feel sorry for me for whatever reason. I wouldn't say I feel people feel sorry for me, because if that were the case Id have a twitter shoulder to cry on. I would say that I feel people tolerate me. People respond to not be mean. I since that. I know that. I read between the delayed responses. The vague, one worded responses. Lack of depth, connection. It feels cold. As if a stranger is asking you personal business and you're hesitant to answer. But I get it, we don't know each other. Its not you. Its me. I think I expect to much. I think I'm looking for a big brother or sister mentor figure through twitter. And I get disappointed and let down when people fall short or do not step on the pedestal that Ive built for them in my head. I don't know when or if I will return to twitter. I probably will. But twitter doesn't have what I'm looking for and there really isn't any point to be there in my opinion. I stopped tweeting sometime I think in the beginning of June. Originally I had the plan to fast from twitter for a few weeks. I was going to return July 1st. That day came and I changed it to July 4th. The end of July. By August I had already forgotten about twitter. So I was thought I come back in September. Its the middle of Sept now and I have yet to go back. I don't know. I just don't find it fun anymore. Its always the same shit. Same people. Shit and people that don't concern me nor give one fuck about me. I peak in and out on occasion. But I don't want to make this about twitter.

So personal life. Whats that? I don't have a personal life. My job and coworkers are my personal life. I see them damn near everyday. In and out of work. I mean I have other friends but I don't talk to them that much. We all work, doing different things in life and just don't hang that much. Don't hang at all. So most times I barely even talk at work if its not work related. For what? We see each other everyday. Nothing has changed since last night when we last saw each other. Work is wearing me thin. You can read my older post about work. Same shit still going on. Its just not how it used to be. Shit has really fell apart. Not to toot my own horn but I honestly feel and know, Im one of the ones who does the most there. It wears you out. And whats the outcome? What do I get out of it? I mean a paycheck, yes. Tips, yes. But what am I gaining mentally? What am I learning? Im deteriorating mentally and I'm learning that I don't want to be there. Its so draining. Like I can be at home fine, minding my business then several hours before work I just feel this dark cloud over my head. Having to put a smile on and push through work for the next 6 hours or so. I know my time there is limited but where would I go afterwards? What job skills do I have? What experiences? I told myself I want to be done with the restaurant industry. Ive put in 10 years and I want out. I feel Ive done it all, seen it all, learned it all. But I don't have any other job skills. This is where the depression kicks in to. Like what do I put on a resume about myself? I know how to carry 4 plates on my two arms? I can palm 3 drinking glasses? I can roll forks, run the coffee pot, Im a champion iced tea maker? I can answer the telephone? I can write a check and work a cash register? Those things are not going to help me get a job anywhere else. (Music change, Lemonade - Beyonce). I will be 27 next month and I have no basically skills to get an entry level job anywhere. So forgive me that I haven't been the same lately. Im doing this alone and I don't know how to handle this thing called life and when I do gather the desperation to ask for help I get told fuck off and figure it out yourself. I swear when or if I make it, Im helping out, reaching out, giving back the most I can. I don't want anyone to feel the way I have been feeling for most of my 20s. But there are other things that have me to myself that the people around me are dealing with themselves that just has everything shaken up that I don't care to discuss their business. 

I mentioned my birthday. Its next month. October 20th. I have been planning to go to NYC with my friends I always travel with. In the beginning every one was ready to go, down to ride and all. But now that its getting closer people not making any moves to make this happen. i send group texts with details, prices, tickets, events and everything and no response. i mention it at work and I get the abrupt change of conversation or the “I don't have any money” story. or the disinterested look. I have offered to pay for the room on my credit card and they can pay me back when ever they can. Still nothing. I really want to go, not alone, but I will if I have to. Its always been this way. How many times I go to concerts, movies and whatnot alone. The people look at me like I'm weird. Im like if I want to go, have the means to go, why not go? Why let broke niggas hold you back from doing what you want to do. I mean we all slave at work, what are we doing with the money we make? I want to enjoy mine. its just a lot of dynamics to my depression and Im not saying I have it the worst or that noon else is going through things. I'm just saying I don't know how to deal with this and I feel that the best way is to keep to myself and figure it out. I know that people will probably say “you can talk to me” I know, and thanks for offering. But Im just tired of crying the same story over and over to the same people. I don't want people to see me in this state because this is not my normal state and I don't want be seen in my weakest darkest hours. Or months. I just have hope and i pray that whatever the Lord has for me will be well worth all of this. On the bright side, I will probably be enrolling into barber college Im hoping no later than the top of the year. The program is a little over a year long so hopefully within 15 months Ill be graduated and licensed so I can take the next phases. Im trying to just have everything in line by the time I'm 30. The dream is to be licensed, working, financially stable, more physically fit, all in a new state. Im still thinking ATL. but I'm not opposed to DMV area, Cali or NYC. I just feel that i have waisted the last 10 years of my life. i haven't accomplished anything. Most people I graduated with has gone to college, graduated, relocated and have began to start families and have made or is making something of themselves. I know I have the potential and thank you to those who see my potential and remind me of it. Its greatly appreciated. I just hope that one day I can read these blogs and see how far I came. Um I don't know whats next. Maybe Ill transition back into twitter. I don't know. Oh, and everyone knows I can cut my own hair flawlessly, but I cut someone else hair for the first time on Labor Day and cutting other peoples hair is totally different than cutting your own hair. Just wanted to say that. I think that is all for now. I don't know when ill post another blog. Like I said Im tired of singing the same sad song over and over. But typing this all out and actually thinking about what to say is therapeutic and I use this as my meditation. And I'm going to get my $1,000 worth out of this damn macbook. Oh and speaking of MacBooks, I preordered the iPhone 7+. Jet Black with 256gb. Shipping on that has been delayed on that until November so I guess that will be my birthday and christmas present to myself. I do want a newer iPad and the Apple Watch. 

thats all. if you read this, thank you. 

[antrozay-blog]

T’was the day before Father’s Day

Alight. lets get this ball rolling. Its about 9am on the eve of Father’s Day and I said i would write a blog about some of the male figures that were in my life. Ive put this off for a few days because of procrastination and not having a solid mindset or purpose behind the writing. But I will just type and see where it lands me. 

So I will start with my father. I have a dad, who is alive I'm assuming because i haven't heard anything of his passing. Anyway the last time Ive seen my dad in person was around this time 9 years ago in 2007. The place was my high school graduation open house, which I sent an invitation asking for his attendance. He had just had double hip replacement surgery and showed up using a walker with my grandmother and my older sister by at least 15-20 years, his first born. Not much to say about that reunion. I mean I was happy and surprised they all showed up being that I haven't had much conversation with them in many years. Well I did keep in contact with my grandmother the most out of the 3 of them because she lived here in town. We always sent Christmas cards to each other and I always sent her a Mother’s Day card. My father always received a Father’s Day card as well, up until I lost my sheet of paper that had his address at my sisters house written on it, thats all I had, being that I never received a card or anything else with his address on it in return. But whatever. I remember speaking to them for what I felt was a long time, but nothing of rememerbable . What do you say to someone you barely know as you've matured from a child? I remember my aunt, my moms sister telling me that I needed to go over and speak to them more but I'm like, what do I say? It was kind of awkward. After that, a few years later, maybe 2010 or so, I received a hand written letter from my grandmother saying my father was terriblly ill and just had I think was a double or quadruple bypass on his heart. I still have that letter in my keepsake but I don't feel like fishing it out to read it for the exact quote she gave. Any who that was the last time I heard anything from anyone about my dad. 

Lets talk my childhood in regards to my father. My dad had substance abuse issues I didn't find out about until i was older. I think he did crack. This was when everyone was doing crack though. Funny story about my conception, no one seen it for my dad. He was a lame, nerdy kind of dude. No one knew what my mom saw in him. My sister said when she found out that my dad was my dad while my mom was pregnant she didn't believe it. She said that she just thought we was a family friend and that my mom and dad never acted like a couple or anything. I don't think they were a couple. Maybe they just messed around from time to time and whoops! here I am. I remember from being a baby, my older boy cousins, all about 20 years older than me, tormenting me as a baby saying “COME GET HIM, NATE!” my fathers name is Nate. They would do that mostly when would act up and I would cry immensely. I remember taking a family photo with my dad and sister, which I still want a copy for myself till this day. I had to have been like 3. I remember that day because my sister had on stockings and she had gotten a hole in them, so they were trying to maneuver us all to cover the whole. The only time I saw that picture was when I visited my dads house, where he lived with his other brother and my grandmothers husband who for years I thought was my dads father) before he moved to a nursing home. Later learned after Papa D passed he wasn't my biological grandfather and my real one had passed some time way long ago. I remember 7th birthday party, my dad had his ex wife, my oldest sisters mom make me a sheet cake for my birthday. She either owned or worked at a bakery shop here in town at that time, cant remember the exact details. Not sure who brought the cake over to my house either. Maybe my mom picked it up. I remember he took me to a baseball game. It was when the baseball stadium had just opened up. He was on a date, and all I remember was them two caked up sitting on the lawn. I was roaming around. I think I got lost. Somehow I managed to meet the baseball team and they signed my hat. Maybe my dad took me down there, or maybe I wandered down there. When it was time to take me home, he dropped me off at the bus stop. Well we had just moved to the townhouses and I didn't know exactly where I lived. we drove up, down and around looking for my house but I didn't know which one it was and neither did he. This was before cell phones so its not like we could just called my mom. Some way I found my house because I remembered there was a bus stop near by. I remember one time I wanted a bike, and he said the only way I could get one was if my mother went half with him. Perhaps this was the I “pay” child support attitude in him. I think my mother ended up paying for the in full herself. 

Around this time, at like age 8 or 9 was when I started to see the.. I don't want to say “aintshitness” in my dad, but we will go with that for now. He stopped returning my phone calls and I seen him less. When he did pick me up, Id just be at my grandmothers house playing with my two cousins. They knew the neighborhood kids and they also went to Kids Camp at the nearby elementary school in the summer during the day. Unbeknownst to me until years later, this is were I met my best friend till this day. He lived around the corner and we used to hop his fence and play or whatever. They were they everyday because my grandmother watched them while their parents, my aunt and her husband, worked. My dad worked too, at General Motors. Mom said he had an office job there, he didn't build cars. Which I equated with “he got fucking moneyyy” I visited his job once before. Cant remember what it was for. I don't think it was ‘take your child to work’ day, we weren't there that long. Maybe he was picking up his check or something. I remember he gave me this big blue tote bucket. I still have it till this day. It holds shit like my yearbooks and pictures and things. I think he drove a Pontiac Trans Am or something similar to that kind of car body. I remember once, that I still get teased about till this day, we went to Hot & Now. Everybody knows Hot & Now was the cheapest fast food place ever. A burger had to have costed $0.50. We ordering or whatever at the drive thru and I say I wanted a cheese burger. I wouldn't say he yelled at me, but when retelling the story I say he yelled at me for dramatic effects. He said “we got cheese at the house”. Those words pierced my soul because I've never been told that before. I guess I lived a privilege life because I always had cheese on my burger. Throughout the next few years I started seeing even more less of him. The last thing I remember was my sister, my dad and myself took a 4 hour road trip to see my sisters side of the family in Ohio. I was in 6th grade I think. We went during Thanksgiving break. I had a good time. That was the last major memory that stands out from them until my graduation Open House. 

Tommy Lee. Lets talk about Tommy Lee. He was the coolest. He was thick, stocky kinda buff dude. He was from down south, perhaps Mississippi. Country ass hell. I want to say he had a full gold grill, or maybe just one gold tooth. Younger than my mom and fun as hell. He treated us very well. I remember he used to take us to Flint, MI (before it because run down) and take us on shopping sprees. Me and my sister was fresh from head to toe in Nike, Adidas, Fila outfits and shoes. Sunglasses, hats, real gold jewelry, hell we even got dope ass Easter outfits. One of the suits he bought me I wore in my 1st grade school picture. It had a real tie, and somehow I fucked the tie up and undid it. The teachers passed me around trying to retie it, but they all failed. They ended up having to tuck the tie in my shirt someway for the picture. He was the best. He taught me how to tie my shoes. My mom loved him. I can see them two now, just relaxing smoking cigarettes and drinking Ice House beers out the can. But he had his bad side. He sold drugs, weed I believe, not nothing hard like crack or them trailer trash drugs. And he was a cheater. He had another girlfriend who lived on the other side of town. Lansing is small. Everybody knows everybody. Even I knew who she was and her family. I think my mom might have been the main chick and the other woman the side chick. My mom went to jail for him. They got caught up with some weed, mom said it was hers for him, I think they were on their way back from Chicago. I remember her taking me to the drop office, the place where you piss in a cup to test for drugs like once a week while on probation. I don't remember this but my sister does. She says that one night we got robbed. Said a few dudes with masks on burst threw the house yelling “Where the dope at, where the dope at” she said they had guns in the air and pointed them at us and told us to stay on the couch. I guess they took my mom and she had to show them where Tommy Lee hid the weed and his money. My sister said my mom said she think it was staged because she coulda swore on of the robbers was Tommy Lee himself and that he set it up from not having to pay the dope man because he was “robbed”. I don't remember that at all so I have no clue what happened. I remember once he and my mom got into a fight. Im not sure what it was about. All I heard was arguing and he kicked both the doors in off the hinges. I remember my mom telling my and my sister to go to the neighbors house and to call 911. I don't think he put hands on her. I can't remember if the police ever came. I know it was late at night. I remember helping to push the couch to the door so that it would stay shut and I remember staying at a hotel and not having to go to school the next morning. I believe that was the end of their relationship. I still saw him around after that though. He ended up with some white woman and had a child, I think his first and only. Tommy Lee passed away from tuberculosis in like 2000. 

Then there was LeRoy. Not much to say about him. He and my mom dated after she and Tommy Lee broke up. I was in the 3rd grade so about 1997/8. They met because he was the maintenance man at the senior citizens home where this lady, Bee was her name, my mom was a home aid to. He was ok in the beginning. I only seen him when he would come by the house from time to time. He had a flashy car with those long ass spikes coming out the tire well so you don't rub the curb when parking. I hated those. They were tacky as hell. Bee passed away some time after that and my mom had another job so I guess they couldn't se each other as much. He started coming over when she got out of work in the evening. Every damn day. Which eventually he moved in. Well in-between his kids from Illinois and their kids came to stay with him. Oh he lived in that senior home he worked at. long story short they was in there causing ruckus and he ended up getting fired and put out and had nowhere to go. So he moved in, I want to say I was in the 7th or 8th grade so about 2001/2. We didn't have much of a relationship. We barely spoke. He worked in the mornings, I was at school. In the evenings mom was at work, he was home, I was in the streets doing hoodrat things with my friends. The most I seen him was on weekends. Mom would make him breakfast faithfully every weekend. Id wait until she clean up from their breakfast and make my own. The only good thing he did for me was let me use his car. He drove me and my date to the Winter Ball Dance for the school. And he let me drive his car for my road test after I finished Drivers Ed. Mom jokingly still feels a way till this day that I drove his car more times than she did. They broke up right before I graduated high school. I remember the day. I was sleep on the couch. He woke me up and gave me his house key. Days prior I seen him moving shit out the basement like his spare tires and these racks of clothes but didn't think nothing of it. Well he gave me the key and said to give it to my mom. He had like tears in his eyes. And I'm like where you going? He was like didn't your mom tell you? I'm like no, what? he was basically like, we broke up and I'm moving out. I didn't believe it. I was like you're lying and he's like no, no I'm not. This is when I noticed the tears. so I was like oh.. well ok.. I will give her the keys and went back to sleep. I might of been high. This was in my Chief Keef days. But thinking back, my mom was in her petty mood that whole week that I get from her. I can't describe her actions, its like.. like a ‘bitch you thought you got me but I got the last laugh’ kinda petty. Like a over confident attitude like you wish a nigga would. He was a cheater. she caught him up plenty of times, some of the bitches we knew from around town. Some came over to the house before to tell my mom of his doggish ways. Once I was rumbling threw his things in the basement and in a box was this photo album of them instant polaroid pictures that print out the camera filled with what Im assuming was nudes for old people of those times. Random women, a few I knew of, like school friends moms. Posing sexually and in the act. My mom was in there too, thank god her pics were wholesome. I think she had on like a bed gown and one she had like her titty out. The expression on her face was of like nigga here witcho begging ass, now take the damn picture. Anyway they broke up, and strangely he tried to be more friendly with me. Im like nigga bye. Every time he would randomly stop by he would speak, once he tried to give me like $100. I'm like what is this for. He was like just because. I respectfully declined his money and pulled off. I was in the car about to go to work as that was happening. I was just like thanks but I don't need it, and i won't feel comfortable taking it from you. A few months back my mom told me he had prostate cancer. They caught it early enough to where he just needed surgery and not chemo and radiation. 

Not sure what the point of all this was. I just wanted to talk about the men who were somewhat close to me in my life. There isn't a hidden message behind this. So I'm not saying every young man needs a father figure in his life. Im also not saying he doesn't need one either. When I think of father figures I think of a few things, going to ball games, learning how to shave and like sex talk. Well I had my ball game experience and was abandoned there and no one taught me how to shave, not that I needed it, I didn't grow a full beard until I was like 19 or 20. Plus here I am, and can cut my own full head hair and have been doing so for more than 2 years. Sometimes I think I'm delayed in life. But whats considered delayed? I feel I learn things later than others, but when talking with others I see that they too fell they are delayed and not where they want to be at in life yet. I just want to have open dialog so Im starting to put it into blog form. Since you can't have normal convos with people especially guys for too long or too in depth because everything is gay now. Plus some people don't want to be open and vulnerable. I was like that once too but I'm trying to grow mentally as i get older I just want to connect with people and see where their head is and hopefully get a better understanding of this thing called life. I guess Ill stop right here. Its about 11.45am and I got shit to do. 

#fathersday

[antrozay-blog]

BLOCKING: Twitter vs Glo Up

I have been putting off writing this blog for many reasons. I could list them all tonight but I will just say procrastination is to blame. I wanted to convey a clear and cohesive thought process throughout this blog and not be all over the place. I debated on the set up and structure for weeks. I wanted to add photos, memes and clickable links to help aid in the readers interest. Then I thought to myself this is my first blog, its going to be all over the place. This is basically my introduction to everything so I will incorporate different things as I progress. Hell this might be the first and only post. I might delete it after I am finished on some Stand By Me shit. I haven't decided what will come out of this. I decided I will just type as things come into my head. I don't even think I will proof read this. Hell, no one will probably read this anyway. I guess I should start and begin this outpour of emotions that I'm hoping this blog will bring about and clear my mind.

As I write this, it is Sunday Dec 6th, a little after 9pm. I have not been public tweeting on my twitter timeline since August 7. I decided to take a break from it for many reasons. The main one being I just didn't feel comfortable there. I mean that as in I'm cool with a handful of people but I don't fuck with everybody. Most times it feels like being in a room full of people and you may make small talk with some, say high and bye. shoot the breeze and retweet here and there, laugh a little bit and see familiar faces, but you really don't fuck with the people in there that well. Of course its a few people I fuck with but sometimes I couldn't say I feel the same in return. A lot of people don't really fuck with me like that. I can tell by your response, or lack there of. Your blocks and unfollows from people that was just cool with you the day before. The shade. The pettiness. Im not complaining, just stating facts. (paused at the keyboard, typing and deleting, typing again only to delete)...In my mind I'm asking myself “do I want more from twitter?” and “Have I already gotten everything I could from twitter?” Ive been on twitter since 08 or 09 back in its heyday under many handles. Most famously @cuffedkatstacks. You already know it was a long ass time ago with that name when Kat Stacks was actually someone of importance to the timeline. Previous to that, I was coming from Myspace with over 50k friends. I am not saying it to brag but I am saying it as the fact that basically for lack of a better phrase, I've already gotten my life from social media within the past 10 years. Ive done it all; Blackplanet, Xanga, Crushspot, Localhookups, Myspace, all the AIM and YAHOO chats and any other website you can think of I probably have been on it. I think that being over exposed to something looses its thrill. I think twitter has lost its thrill. I feel like I have run my course. I've had my fun times and I feel that now is the time I get my shit together and focus on that. Sometimes I find myself wanting to engage with folk but then I have to check myself and say these people have their shit together already or are working towards what they want in life. I sometimes feel like that one kid who didn't do all his school work and has to watch all his classmates play at recess while I finish my multiplication problems. A lot of the people who I do socialize with regularly already have their foundation laid out, or are in the process to working towards their goals. And I'm here doing absolutely nothing. For awhile I thought that associating myself with people who are doing well for themselves would motivate me but it hasn't. I was expecting for something to rub off them and rub onto me and give me this tremendous boost of thrive and drive. But I see now that I have to put in the work, nothing just comes to anyone. I always wanted to just ask people how they came to where they are and what they struggling with and just get to know someone other than a retweet. But thats when dry responses and unfollows come because people probably feel uncomfortable or something. But I am learning that people have issues that don't have shit to do with me so i don't even press it. I don't do wishy washy fickle people. If we cool we cool as fuck. If we not then were not. I don't have an in-between. All I want sometimes is a meaningful conversation and interactions. But then again its twitter, why am i expecting that much of someone I don't even know in real life. Why try to make long lasting friendships and bonds with people beyond what ever the trending topic of the day? Why not partake in the exposing and dragging and recking mentions like everyone else? Why not try to be somebody to a bunch of twitter nobodys? I am past that trying to put on for people and trying to be known. I feel that the people who do the most on social media were nobodys all their lives and now they can hide behind a screen name and be cool and popular. I am not judging, get it how you live. At least I'm honest about my struggles and just trying to connect with people who are too and not caught up in retweets.

Work. 

*deep sigh* How do I feel about work? I don't feel anything. Thats the thing. It pays the bills. Being that people I actually work with might read this depending if I even share this blog, I will try to not go in like I know I could. Work is just that, work. I come in, do my job, punch out and go home. There once was a time when I first started working 10 years ago to this month that i actually enjoyed working. It was new, it was different. It was exciting. The people were fun. I learned a lot in the beginning from good people, who eventually left and move on to different things. But work used to be so fun. So many stories I could tell and oh boy the fun times we had. Over the years I got more in the repetitive loop and slowly became more and more depressed. I can foresee my entire shift, who's working, what deliveries are arriving and at what time, what customers are coming in and time. Its a problem when I know your whole order and how much you tip. Things started to change. The good people were leaving. New people who I could take or leave were coming in. Business started to take a turn for the worse. There once was a time we needed 3-4 waitresses, 2 cashiers, 3 drivers, 2 bussboys 2-3 cooks and a hostess. Now all you need is one waitress, a cook and a cashier. Now shit is at an all time low, so many factors. I mean don't get me wrong its not all bad, its more so my own self and not wanting this to be the only thing I have going for myself. I make good money. I don't have any bad relationships there so its good. Again, I will just leave it at that, don't want to be too open, I still work there, don't want to get fired..

School. 

I am at a point in my life that I do not want to go back to school. I feel I am too old and Ive passed that period in my life. I should have knocked it all out right after high school. I choice the manual labor/service industry as my career. Working for tips. Truth be told I never liked school to begin with. I was a decent student. Made decent grades, put in just enough effort not to fail. I never went out the way to over achieve either. I did enough. Especially because at that time in my life weed and doing hood rat things with my friends was way cooler. Graduated on time in 2007. Took a whole year and a half off right out of high school until I enrolled into Community College. I solely enrolled because everyone else was in college and because I wasn't doing anything else with my life so why not. All my hood rat friends started having babies, going to jail and just not progressing in life and i was over that. Plus I heard about them refund checks, I was waiting on them at the doe *head tilts. I was about 18 or 19 around this time. I took bullshit classes. Took about 3 or 4 classes a semester. Which to me was a lot. Overwhelming. Long nights. Time management. But I did it. The major I declared was Psychology. Don't know why, maybe because thats what everyone declared. Took the class, was bored out of my mind. I knew it wasn't for me. At the same time I was taking a Sociology class. Now that I loved. But what the hell could I see myself doing with that kind of degree. My teacher suggested I do social work. Took a social work class and a human resources class. Loved them both. And both teachers said based on what I brought to the class, my questions, reports and that nonsense, that I could go far. I believed them. Did all my prerequisites so now I was ready to transfer to a big university and finish a degree in 2 years. All the while, I've been discussing my school goals with with people at my job, the customers who frequented the restaurant who took interest in my life outside of working. Time goes on. Took a few years before I got serious about transferring schools. One day I said fuck it and applied to 4 schools. got into 3. I decided on one, enrolled and paid the for dorm room downpayment, all the allocation fees and everything. Unbeknownst to me, being accepted to the school and being accepted to the social work program are totally separate things. They had a waiting list. So i got discouraged because of the set back. I wouldn't be able to be considered for acceptance until the following school year. Around this time its the summer of 2013. My aunt was diagnosed with stage 4 cervical cancer the beginning of the year and my mother was taking care of her majority of the time after my aunt had a hysterectomy and was undergoing chemotherapy. She passed in July. August, the following month, we find out my mother had stage 3 lung cancer. 2 weeks later, Sept 11 to be exact, We, my mother, sister and I, spent the day in Detroit as my mother had the majority of the tumor in her lung surgically removed. Followed by a few tough months of chemo. She took off work, I paid all the bills, that became a stress in itself on everyone. But God got us through it. I say all that to say, the time I was actually serious about just finishing what I had started in school was put on the back burner again. Now I think that I am done with school right now in my life. I don't have any real reason to finish except to have the degree and to say I actually finished. I don't feel the amount of debt I will have will outweigh the degree and job, if i even choose a job in that field. Who wants to get loans for school, to only have to get a job and pay them back. Customers at my job and other people say i should finish. They always as me when am I going to, how much longer I have and all that. I have yet to still come up with a way of telling them to stop asking me these questions. A lot of people don't understand where I'm coming from. I feel that even if I had the degree and had a “good job” (i want to debate that saying) I would still be in the same spot I am in now, still trying to find my purpose in life. I have the potiental to make more as a server than I probably would working in some Dept. of Human Resources office. The only thing I could see benefiting me would be possibly having health and/or dental care and a 401k. But I can have those things now. I just haven't gotten around to finding the steps in setting up a 401k. Thats another reason why I haven't found another job. Ill give you this perspective. Would you rather make 500-600 a week working 20-25 hours or 500 working 40+ overtime hours a week Why would a stripper stop shaking her ass at KOD to start going to school at some Everest ass college. The only bad thing I see is that my money isn't guaranteed and I don't have a retirement plan. Thank God that in my 10 years working at the same job, the only time I feel on hard times was when we was closed for a few weeks for repairs. But luckily i had money in the bank saved for an event like this, as well as we still got paid from hell idk, the unemployment office or something. Basically we were insured and they paid us for our time off.

What Now.

Ive been thinking about this for some time now. I do not know if this is my calling or purpose. Im still trying to understand the difference between the two. But I'm almost certain that I want to become a barber. It kind of hit me overnight. All throughout me trying to find myself, I think this has been sitting right underneath my nose the whole time. Ive always liked hair. Textures, styling, changing and evolving and just appreciating the work that goes into an over all clean cut and the difference a haircut could make. I think I am attracted to mens hygiene care. I also think skin care and grooming is important. Facials, manicures and pedicures, colognes and all the other things most likely labeled metrosexual. I remember once when I was a kid, I got a bald fade from my barber, and I noticed my edge up was crooked. I had to have been in the 4th grade. Long story short I took my moms razor from the edge of the bathroom tub and tried to correct it. Fucked everything up. I think I have been doing my line up since about high school in between haircuts. TMI but i even experiment with my pubes. Ive done designs like an A, a star, landingstrips, triangles and many different shapes. I don't think I took cutting hair serious until 2 almost 3 years ago when my favorite barber idol and friend Ronnie left and moved to Cali. I loved him because he could take whatever idea I had and bring it to life. I had so many designs and whatnot. Ronnie was a beast and his haircuts were always lit. I admired that. I wanted his talent. Anyway he left and Im not one to have just anybody cut my hair so I said you know what, Im going to cut it myself. I told Ronnie what I planned on doing and he walked me through the process step by step. He told me everything I needed and what exactly to do. Mission accomplished. Ive been cutting my own hair ever since then. Over time I grew to research barbering techniques and styles on the internet and looking on Instagram at different barbers and I kind of fell in love with it. I get tons of compliments on my hair and it makes me feel good, not at the fact I look good, but because my haircut catches eyes and attention just how Ronnies used to do. I always had a keen eye for detailing, and being creative. I never knew what to do with those traits of mine, I thought photography and photoshop and web design were my calling once upon a time and took classes for them. But as i type this I'm thing, maybe those are just took to help me with being a successful barber and an independent entrepreneur. So some time ago I decided I wanted to enroll into barber school because I want to learn the fundamentals of cutting and get experience and all that jazz. I never really had the desire to be a legit barber like working in a barbershop. For one, I don't even really like barbershop atmospheres. Also because I just never wanted to cut other peoples hair as a living. But I've changed my mind. I could put up with a barbershop environment with the end goal of opening my own barbershop. And there are different styles of barbershops, not just the hood ones on the corner were they still cell bootleg DVDs and fake Jordan shoes. My dream barbershop would be like a multileveled building with haircutting/salon, tattoos and piercing and clothing preferably designed by me. So how will I get there to that point? That brings me to my current struggles today.

In motion.

Now its time to put shit into motion. I made a promise to myself when I turned 21 that at 25 I did not want to still be living at home with my mother. Im 26 now. It is time I get out this damn house with this woman. I can make a whole list of gripes about living with my roommate, I call her a roommate to press the fact I am independent of her, we split bills just like a roommate but she just happens to be my mother. I just don't feel like I am benefiting any by still living at home. Yes having split bills saves money, but I rather pay rent for myself in a 1brm apartment than have split rent in a 2brm townhouse. Im tired of buying groceries, toiletries and other miscellaneous things for the house. I just want my me time and be able to do what I want when I want. I want the freedom of being able to walk around butt ass naked if I choose to. I hate being confined to my room with the door locked because people in the living room and the anti social me doesn't want to be bothered. I hate having to put my iPhone earbuds in my ear and pretend to be listening to something when I leave my room just to avoid unwanted conversation. With the promises I made to myself about moving out, I also promised myself that when I do move out, it won't be around town. I always said I was moving out of town for school. I think school was my go to reason for actually leaving. Fuck I gonna leave one hood to go to another hood around the corner in my own town. After visiting on several occasions, I think I have decided to move to Atlanta. The atmosphere there is wonderful. Positive successful blacks. No one hating on the next person. The land of opportunity. Seems like everything I want that my town does not offer. The issues I'm currently having is where to move exactly. I want to go to barber college down there. I feel I could learn more there in the hair capital of the world than I could here. Ive been looking at a few schools and there is one that I really like and want to check out in person. It is in downtown Atlanta. Which everybody know is the hood. I kinda want to live out in the suburbs somewhere. Its a few surrounding areas within 20 mins from downtown, Midtown, Marietta, Stone Mountain and a few other places that are popular. I also do not have a job lined up there. I do not know if its better to find one before I move or after. I am open to anything in the beginning. I wanted to do school full time because I can have the hours needed in 9 months. I just don't want to potentially get a job or apartment from online scouting then have to decline it because I am not there to have an interview, nor there to at least stalk the building and get an idea of what the fuck goes on in and around there. So the plan is to make a visit around Christmas and New Years and look at apartments and look at the barber college. In the worst case scenario, I do have money saved up that will cover my bills for several months. Its time for a change. My life isn't getting better and postponing life any longer is detrimental to my emotional health and wellbeing. For a while I was letting friendships hold me back. Not any longer. I got to do whats right for me and whats right in my heart. I will make new friends opposed to the only 2 that I have. I am over being scared of change. Change is good. Change is whats needed currently in my life. I can handle change. I really have to get a grip on my life and take it for a ride, full throttle. Im not getting any younger and I feel my glow up is about to happen and I just hope that to whoever is reading this is there for the ride. I would like you to be there, but I am not begging any mother fucker to be there. 

its 1am now and this concludes my first post. Again, I do not know if I will continue this or when the next time I will update this. Maybe I will come back here when I get feedback or feel the need to talk to myself when you motherfuckers don't respond to my cry for help texts. One thing I can say is thank you for ignoring me because talking to myself has been allowing me to get to know myself even more. And how the hell can you love someone if you can't even love yourself. I'm just here for the personal development of myself.