THE QUEST FOR HAPPINESS…

"The little blue engine looked up at the hill.
His light was weak, his whistle was shrill.
He was tired and small, and the hill was tall,
And his face blushed red as he softly said,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”

So he started up with a chug and a strain,
And he puffed and pulled with might and main.
And slowly he climbed, a foot at a time,
And his engine coughed as he whispered soft,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”

With a squeak and a creak and a toot and a sigh,
With an extra hope and an extra try,
He would not stop — now he neared the top —
And strong and proud he cried out loud,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!”

He was almost there, when — CRASH! SMASH! BASH!
He slid down and mashed into engine hash
On the rocks below... which goes to show
If the track is tough and the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just ain’t enough!" Shel Silverstein- The Little Blue Engine

I am happy. I AM happy. I am HAPPY. I AM happy. I am HAPPY.

There are moments in your life; times in your life where no matter how many times you repeat that sentence to yourself it’s still not believable.  There’s a part of you that’s convinced that if you say it, THAT sentence, the simplest of sentences, over and over again in different ways, in different cadences it will begin to sink in.  And at some point you may even turn to yourself and say, “I am happy right?” And hopefully through a bit of brain washing you will say back....riggghhhhhtttttt! But what if you don’t? What if, just in fact, you are not….happy? Is it the worst thing in the world?

It's not that being happy is hard. You've had moments and spurts of happiness. We all know what happy feels like. And when you feel it it’s amazing. So the hard part is NOT being happy, the hard part is reminding yourself during the hard times that happy actually does and can exist.  The odd thing about happiness is that happiness is strangely fleeting...on the surface of things. I believe this is because the pain of unhappy has a sting that etches its foot print in your memory way deeper than that of happiness. For example, you know not to play with fire if you've ever been burned. You know to watch your step if you've ever fallen. You know to avoid bees, if you've ever been stung. Pain can create a long lasting fear. It damn near endures forever. So the hard times are always on the forefront of your memory…

But happiness....why is happiness so hard to remember?

Once when I was in high school, I had this crush of sorts on a basketball player.  He was a senior and I dated him briefly my freshman year, but didn't connect back with him until the summer he was leaving for college.  I remember it like it was yesterday; he getting ready to leave for school and asked me to come over to hang out with him while he packed up.  A long story short, we got into a heavy kissing session.  (Don’t judge, I read kissing is good for your health! I’m healthy today because of my summer make out session! All glory!)  It just so happened this was in August, it was very hot out, and I had spent the entire day in the field practicing during band camp.  So therefore, my allergies were on 10.  Yes, if you’re smart you should know where this story is going.  In the midst of our heavy petting session, my nose started to bleed.  And when I say bleed, I don’t mean just a light summer nose bleed.  I mean, my nose bled like I was going to die- D-I-E! My nose hadn't bled like that since I was like 8 years old, and the only remedy then was to go to the hospital. 

So imagine this, I finally reconnect with the loooooooooove of my 15 year old life.  We’re making out, and it’s like heaven. And within a split second I’m bleeding out like someone should come read me my last rights.  It was so bad that he had to go get his mother.  Yes, yes, yes….his mother.  So here it is: me, his mother, and him all in the bathroom.  She’s holding my nose, I have my head back, he gets me an ice pack and I. am. dying.  And quietly, at this point I secretly was hoping I’d just bleed myself into oblivion. 

Oh but it gets worse.  I wasn't supposed to be there. Yup, you've got it. I was supposed to be at the movies with my sister and cousin (who dropped me off at his house on the way to their boyfriend’s house).  And this was 1991, so there was no cell phone number to call and have my sister come get me.  I stayed at his house for 3 hours in that very position.  Oh yes, my loves, my nose bled for 3 hours.  THREE HOURS! *weeps in my tea* I still feel the pain and agony as I type this-wooosssaaaaah.

But I digress, the point is, despite this being the happiest moment in my 15 year old life, it was overshadowed by also being the most embarrassing moment of my 15 year old life.  And when I reflect on that day, I don’t remember anything BUT that: me, him, and his mother.  Damn, anything that happened prior to that catastrophic, heart wrenching, ego crushing moment. (hmmm I wonder if he reads this blog)

So, where am I going with this, aside from divulging that I’m a chronic nose bleeder, is that happy is fleeting, but pain endureth forever. (Hahahaha) Okaaaaaay, that’s not how the saying goes, and that’s not what I truly mean, fine! What I’m trying to say, my loves is sometimes happiness gets over-shadowed by pain and sadness, and it’s a lot more work than people are willing to admit to make it the dominating force that people claim it to be.

Being happy, yes, is a choice.  But once you make the choice it’s not like magic, and appears suddenly.  It is in fact comprised of many layers. And for me, under each layer of happiness exposes a layer of sadness. The more I peel back, the more I expose. There’s no black and white, finite, space of “happiness”.  I guess this is what I truly mean by a shady haze of grey. Believe you me, I wish my life was as black and white as people make theirs appear.  But it isn't, and I’m not one to pretend that it is.  I spend most of my life in the grey area and in this area, lives turmoil and joy, happiness and sadness, confusion and clarity, conflict and resolution and much, much more.

This my loves is why it’s taking me so long to write the first post of the year.  I wanted to give you all a happy go lucky, happy New Year post. But I couldn't.  I couldn't even find the words to write it or any other post I've conjured up.  I've started and stopped 15 or more posts but yet couldn't find the words to finish them.  I believe it’s because I wasn't being honest and true to my spirit.  The truth is, 2012 was a struggle and 2013 isn't as smooth as I want it to be.  And although I’m blessed to be here, and in good health, there are some moments when I’m hanging on to it all by the hair of my chinny chin chin. 

But I believe that’s what makes this blog work, yes?  Its real life stories, about a very real person, living in a very real city of which I believe you all can relate.  And it doesn't work if I’m not being all the way honest and open.  And honest Nik is trying to tell you that she is somewhere cross-legged in her closet practicing her nam-myoho-renge-kyo’s.   Okay, maybe not that far but you can find me in deep meditation over a glass of Melbec.  No judging! Wine is of the heavens and this is a tried and true fact!

So hopefully as I get over this hump, I can still give you the stories I've been dying to tell you:  like how someone almost shot a snot rocket on me the other day, the death that’s rotting in my apartment building, about when my grandmother tried to choke me out in the grocery store, and how I’m horribly failing at online dating, about my recent heartache, my fears of homeless people, and my quest to lose weight.  I have a lot in store for you all this year! Aren't you just excited? 

And while we’re at it, I mean, we may as well explore this happiness phenomenon, yes?

I mean happy is as happy does right? ;-)

HAPPY, HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!  HERE’S TO 2013!

DEAR SANTA CLAUS...

“I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe. “ Miracle on 34^th Street

Dear Santy,

Let me first start by saying, I don’t believe in you.  I haven’t since I was a kid. My sister ruined it for me as most older siblings tend to do.  Every Christmas she would make me plot on how we would catch my grandfather putting out gifts, and although the group plan was fun, it clued me in very early on that the gift giving ghost in fact was not you. 

I believed this up until the other day.  Let me explain, it’s not that I now magically believe, but I have started to question my stanch stance on this topic.  The other day I was on the train and there was a little kid soooo very excited about you.  And although in my heart of hearts I know he was excited about simply the thought of you, I couldn't help but to get lured in.  This kid was just so damn sure, that  not only do you deliver gifts, but that you somehow managed to shimmy your fat ass full figured self down his chimney, that for a second…for an itty bitty witty second, I started to waver on my belief.  Hey, we’re all allowed second chances no?

So, I’m writing you not to prove that I believe, but because if I was a gambling woman ( I am not), I don’t think I would put all my money on one horse.  I believe I should in fact diversify. I mean, hey what if this kid was on to something, yes?  So dear old St. Nick, here’s my list, see I must send it to you because yesterday I advised everyone not to give gifts.  Smart for them, but not so much for me, right??!! And well, San, if I may call you San, I do in fact want a gift or 5. I mean it is the season of receivn’, how would I feel if I didn't like...receive anything?  Santa, please reference the below list, I know it’s a little late for the elves to make these from scratch so you can tell ol’ Alabaster to check google, it’s his friend and it should prove to be veeeeerry helpful.

MY VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS LIST:

Cosby DVD Set: Listen, this is and will be forever on the list until I get it.  COME ON SANTA!!!! I know you have back stock! This wouldn't even weigh your sleigh down.  I've been incredibly sad these few weeks, and if you want me to have a happy Christmas, this will do the trick. Nothing makes me happier than my extended family, The Cosby’s.   

Insurance:  Can this be a gift? Really? Like can you give me medical, dental, and vision?  It’s more like a necessity than a gift, but between you and me San *whispers* for some reason the people down here don’t believe it’s a necessity.  Can you imagine?! And since I know you give the elves insurance, I thought you know maybe you can add one more to the plan? Until Obamacare kicks in? just a thought…think on it.  

Urban dictionary:  I was recently told I needed this.  It’s odd that I would need it because it seems like I would be hustling backwards but you know my people and their dialect.  Wooo chile, it can be a doozy.  I recall a conversation I had with a friend of mine who was coming to visit me in NYC.  He mentioned he usually “rolls heavy” and asked me if that was ok.  My response:  “you should really pack light, you’ll be taking the train if you can’t hail a cab and heavy suitcases would not be ideal.”Siggggh,  let’s put it like this, that was NOT the heavy he was talking about.  Eh? Win some, lose some? Hey, man I’m from Shaker Heights, Ohio, what do you want from me? 

A Car: Now, Now, Now Santa….YOU saaaaid YOU bring gifts…you didn't say what gift.  And I want a brand new car! I don’t care if it won’t fit on the sled, its 2012, have that baby shipped! Thank you in advance!

The Clapper: Yooooooooooo the clapper is making a comeback! And I want in! I want to lie in the bed and shut the whole house down in one clap! Like that’s some lazy mofo isht no?  A gift after my own heart, now if I can find something to bring my wine to me with a clap…..

RBD (Robotic Beer Delivery): Oh snap Santy! Pleeeeeaaaaase???? Pretty pahleeeeaaassse???? Yes, I know it delivers beer not wine.  Sooooooo? Close enough! 

An Engagement Ring...Husband...Boyfriend: Hehehehe…juuuuust kidding…you know me, San, always a jokester! Gotta keep you on your toes! Hehehe….  I mean unless you…. can….deliver….. *looks directly at the computer*

I know, I know Santy, you’re making your list and checking it twice.  So I may as well tell you now, I waaaaas a weee bit naughty,  but  the good kind of naughty if you know what I mean! Hell Yayer! *hi fives*, but in the end San, I’m always nice….ALWAYS! And its the nice that counts right? Riiiiigggggght?

Now let’s cover logistics, I live in Brooklyn (for now), just follow the gunshots, the West Indian Music and the sound of the Panamanian’s playing dominoes on the corner, it will lead you right to me! Oh, and don’t waste your time looking for said chimney, use the fire escape like everyone else! Tah, tah! I’ll be waiting,

Auspiciously yours,

Nika

HOLIDAY SURVIVAL TIPS: STEP TWO-THE ART OF GIVING

“Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.

Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!”  -Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Alrighty folks, we’re in the home stretch, Christmas is near and now is the time to start talking gifts. Well, that is of course if you’re that lame person, who bought gifts last month then, never mind, but if you’re a Late Lucy like most, well this is your prime shopping week and you most likely need some help.

Now before I get into this blog, I must urge you all to implement a “No Gift” policy such as I did this Christmas.  It’s not like I won’t give a gift, but people are more likely to appreciate the handmade ornaments when they don’t expect they're getting a gift,  than expecting a big gift and get some handmade isht. Word. Up!

Hey, we can all sit here and act like Christmas is about something bigger than gifts (which it is, but never mind that religious posts aren't my thing, I’ll let y’all judgmental ones duke it out on Facebook Christmas day)  With that said, I have one tip and one tip only:

Don’t be a hero. 

Yup, I’m talking to YOU!

What does that mean?  Listen, you are not the modern day St. Nicholas.  Kids and family members don’t even know what sugar plums look like let alone have visions of them! So, it is not your job to turn their “visions” into fruition.  Not to be the Grinch that stole your Christmas, but let me give you this little nugget, you can drop $1,000 on your kids and family members and a month from now they won’t even remember it.  Trust me! So, tuck your cape away, your gift isn't going to save Christmas, there will be Christmas next year and my dear Captain what will you do then? Mortgage your house? Because that’s the direction you’re headed!

Let me be clear, the goal of gift giving is set up a level of progression.   Oh silly you, you thought it was to give and give freely. Uhhhh No!  When you give gifts, you have to be able to top each gift each year following it.  It’s an unspoken rule that no one tells you about.  And the only way you can survive a life time of giving gifts is if you ration that shit out! That’s the only way you can do this gift giving thing, IF you choose to do it.  Again, I advise you opt out. But if you stay in, you must, must, must, must temper expectations.  Buy your girlfriend some diamonds your first Christmas together or your kid every American Girl product in the store and homie, you have nowhere to go but down.  DOOOOOWWWWWN!

Let me tell you, for years, I was known as the person that blessed people with my presence. LOL Don’t you roll your eyes, my presence is special…a gift if you will,  one day I’ll bless you with it too! LOL  But It was known, no gifts from Nika and in return, you didn't have to give me a gift either.  Well sort of, this applied to everyone except my father.  Don’t get me wrong he didn't get a gift either, but I ALWAYS expect a gift from that dude.  Yes, I said it.  It’s called payback. I spend 365 days a year as his secretary, personal google, living GPS, phone programmer, cable provider, computer tech…that Negro OWES me!

But I digress.  So no one got gifts, it was expected. And then one Christmas, the spirit of giving was in my heart and I showed up with a few items, a couple of George Foreman grills for the family (I worked for Target), a sweater for my brother in law, a purse for my grandmother etc.   Man listen, it was like they saw the resurrection of Christ with their very own eyes, talk about Glory!  I could have come with glittered covered coal and gotten the same reaction! See that…tempered expectations! Trust me, there’s an art to this!

So what I’m trying to tell you is this, we all wish gift giving was easier.  But people expect you to gift them gifts they never even thought for themselves like somehow you secretly always knew what they wanted and decide to be the great Christmas Savior coming to save Christmas like it’s never been saved before.   Ummm…NO. 

And the reality is, give a bad gift on Christmas and see if you don’t hear about it for the next year! Seriously, just ask my father.   One year this man gave me a ream of paper….a REAM OF PAPER…yes I was in grad school and yes, I was writing paper after paper, but I was getting paper free from my sister’s job! Wouldn't say , I don’t know, CASH have been a better gift than paper?  Paper that I’m still using 8 years later by the way?!?!  I can’t even create reasons to use it! And lord I won’t go into the time him and his wife bought me this sweater with the matching gloves…JESUS! Nope…I won’t do that, I’m too good of a person to go there. (Hit me on the side for that story hehehe) So check this out, my father was on to something, nooo, no, no , no not the sweater that almost got him excommunicated but the ream of paper was an act of a pure genius.  After two years of just ridiculously bad gifts, I never really had any gift expectations of him again.  That needs to be you! <<<See there's a lesson buried in here somewhere, trust me!

Anywho, that wasn't really what I was trying to tell you. HAHAHA! What I’m trying to say is give wisely, give deliberately and most importantly give to be able to give tomorrow (that last one makes sense really).  

Good luck and God speed!

Now inbox me for my address so you simps can send me a gift too!

Tis the season y’all…Tis the season….

HOLIDAY SURVIVAL TIPS: STEP ONE

“Christmas isn't just a day; it's a frame of mind.” Kris Kringle Miracle on 34th Street

When most people think of the holidays they think of joyous occasions, family, fun, love, warmth and any other overly sappy adjective, I do not. HAHAHA Don’t get me wrong, I love the holidays but my views are different based on my experiences.  I’m from a divorced family where my parents literally despised each other, so yeah you can go ahead and delete “family, warmth, and joyous” and add “complicated, angry, delicate”.  I worked in retail as a manager when I was first out of college so you can delete “joyous and fun” and add “exhausting and superficial”. 

Yeah, so that’s the holidays.  LOL Just kidding…not really…but it wasn’t aaaaall bad there were some fun times, but you had to prep for them!  Like most, I looked forward to the holidays but it was with apprehension as you never knew what you would get so you had to attack each holiday like it was the survival of the fittest and your life depended on surviving. 

So with that said, I’m about to hip y’all to a few of my survival tips.  I’ve made it through 30 some odd holidays unscathed WITH my family so I will deem myself as an expert of sorts.  I’ve been in happy situations and in sad, so I have you covered.  Trust me kid, stick with me and not only will you survive the perils of the holiday, but this Christmas will be THEE best you’ve ever had!  So hold on to your Santa hats and put on your Christmas sweaters, this is our series on Holiday Survival Tips.  First up:  mode of transportation.

For some this is easy breezy, fly to your destination.  Easy, you’re done. So, if that’s you, rock on rock star! However some of us are either procrastinators, scared of flying, have too many kids to fly, or simply broke and therefore are forced to find alternate ways of traveling.  Now when you pick these alternative ways to travel you must…I repeat MUST be realistic about your time, your experience, and your temperament.  The last is very important.  What are the alternatives you ask?

      Drive:  This is a no brainer right?  If you can’t afford to fly, you then just drive.  Well, unless you live in New York and well…knowing people with cars is like an anomaly.  There are things that are extremely rare to New Yorkers 1) a person that has a license 2) a person that has a car 3) a friend that’s married 4) a friend that’s married and met her mate in NYC .  Yes, I know points 3 and 4 have nothing to do with this post, but they’re rare and I feel some kind of way about them so I wanted to add them. My blog, my thoughts…BOOM!

So, driving isn’t always so easy. There are tolls out the wazoo, to rent a car is pricey, and gas (from what I hear) is the price of a small child (oh wait, that’s not the saying huh?) But if you choose to drive, there’s one thing you will definitely need, a properly stocked IPOD playlist.  Yes, I know I know…somewhere  there’s a person like, I have my IPOD stocked with Christmas music, Stevie Wonder,  and The Chi-lites (okay maybe I’m the only one with the Chi-lites on my pod…it’s the Cleveland in me…I’m a victim). But hear me when I say, the Chi-lites ain’t gonna get you through a 12 hour drive.  Stevie is great but when “I Never Dreamed You’d Leave in Summer” comes on, you will want to dive right off the road. Listen, at 3 am, when nothing is left awake but you and Bambi, when the fog starts rolling in, when your eyes are as dry as the Sahara Desert and you’re yawning faster than you can breathe, the ONLY thing you can play is what I call the 1/2 whammy!

What’s the 1/2 whammy?  You have to play a cd that makes you sing at the top of your lungs with no holds barred coupled with a cd that makes you want to dance your socks off- back to back. You save these two albums for this moment, and you don’t play them a second earlier.  It’s like breaking the emergency glass.  My go to 1/2 whammy is Bobby Brown’s “Don’t Be Cruel” followed by Prince’s “Purple Rain”.  You have not seen a concert until you’ve seen me perform these albums! Word. Up.   Play your 1/2 whammy and you’ll extend the lifespan of your trip tremendously.

Car survival tip: Invest in a good play list, do not take this lightly or you’ll be crying in your redbull, all 3 of them.  This is all fact. 

     Train:  This only works if you’re in the Northeast area of this country.  Do not take the train from NYC to Chicago that shit is like 28 hours and soooo not worth it!  And unless you have the stamina for bullshit I wouldn’t suggest doing this past 4 hours.  The further you go, the more the train’s clientele is less Wall Street and more….well…more…street? Seriously, after 5 hours the train becomes the Greyhound.  Trust me on this, this is a proven fact! The price is cheap but don’t let that fool you. 

But if you insist here’s your survival tip on the train:  Ladies, wait until it comes to a full stop to use the bathroom.  There’s no amount of skills that allow you to squat and pee in motion. Sadly, this TOO is a proven fact.

     The bus: Sigggghhhh do you all know my bus woes?  Oh man, I loathe the bus, like hate the bus…sadly, I’m always on the bus! But all buses are not created equal.  Do you hear me? ALL BUSES ARE NOT CREATED EQUAL! Remember that, that could spare you pain and tears, and I mean REAL TEARS!

**Bolt Bus/Mega bus: These buses are lifesavers for those of us that like to shoot down 95 for some escapery (yes, I tooootally made that word up lol).  They like to call these luxury buses; please do not be fooled luxury they are not! But occasionally they come with wifi and outlets (when they work) and cost about a third of what the train costs so eh, it could be worth it.

**Chinatown Express:  Don’t play yourself.  Period. IF you choose to take this method of transpo you’re on your own, it was lovely knowing you.  I’ll write a poem and eulogize your funeral.  It will be something like.

Fool, Fool, Fool

I told him no

Fool Fool Fool

He still chose to go.

The end *curtsy*

**Greyhound:  Listen…there’s so much I can say about the Greyhound. Seriously, save this method for longer than 5 hours IF you must take it.  Here’s the reason why, often times Greyhound runs a special, 5 bucks to Philly or DC.  And here’s what I’ve noticed, (yes I’ve tried it too because well…hey…5 bucks is hard for anyone to turn down) even a homeless person can muster up 5 dollars.  TRUE EFFIN STORY!  I saw a family of four MOVE on the greyhound 5 dollar special. MOVE THEIR STUFF! It was like 30 suitcases. True story, I can’t make this up!

The other thing about the Greyhound is this. Let me be just frank about it, you are not about that life, and if you are taking it you better make damn sure you are! When I was younger me and my sister were pro’s at riding the greyhound. We were often shuttled back and forth from Tennessee to Cleveland and that was ALWAYS our mode of transportation.  We had some serious rules to that joint mainly because this was in the late 80’s/90’s and shit was real on that bus.

1)      No two people could sleep at the same time. One must stay up and watch the surroundings.  We once both went to sleep and some tried to steal our sandwiches my grandmother made us, hence the rule.

2)      Hoodies only and your hair MUST be tucked in it! We were buying tickets at the counter and saw a flea or some flea like substance jump off a person and from that point on we never ever ever ever ever left any skin exposed.  NEVER EVER EVER EVER!

3)      If you are separated because two seats aren’t together. NO ONE SLEEPS and you have to check on each other periodically.  IF you are forced to sit next to someone unfavorable, you will take turns switching seats. I once was next to a man that smelled like open raw onions. It was so tragic that I can remember exactly how it smelled to this very day as if it happened yesterday. This happened well over 25 years ago. 

Bus Survival tip: Be about that life.

Listen, half of the battle of surviving the Holidays is getting to your destination.  You have to be mentally and physically prepared for such an excursion especially since your route can determine how the trip goes.  And yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…somebody flying on Airtran will comment like “I fly everywhere I go” *sucks teeth* Airtran and Southwest don’t count. Period. 

For those of us that need to be slightly creative about how to travel, here’s my bottom line tip.   Wait for it….the distance to and from your destination when added together shouldn’t be longer than your actual stay.  Don’t get so creative that you spend all of your time traveling and none of your time visiting! LOL.  I took the train from NYC to Cleveland once, tricked by my father saying it would be fun.  It was a 24 hour ride TO Cleveland, I stayed one day and had to head back, THEE dumbest decision of my life.  It happened, you learn, and you move on.

Hey man, I’m trying to put you up on game (no this doesn’t fit here, but it sounds good.  Yes?) Don’t say you haven’t been warned.  Cheers and happy traveling to you! Next up, gift giving…

*Nik smirk and ice sickle toss*

POWERBALLIN'

I'm so bossy, b*tch get off me

Trick get off me, you can't get sh*t off me

I'm so flossy, no 6's on Sprees

Laid back, Maybachs, don't even talk to me ~Jay-Z “Ignorant Sh*t”

Dear friends,

Please allow me this moment in time to apologize.  Yes, Yes, Yes to apologize.  To whom? Well…to you.  Yes, to you my friends.  For what you may ask? For what is to come when I win the Powerball tonight.  Ooooh, yes and then there’s that!  Because my loves, please believe I will be winning at least in my mind, at this very moment, at this very time, right here right now…I WILL BE WINNING! Okay, okay, okay….well maybe it’s not so certain, but please give me a moment to just dream about winning, is that alright with you?

Now back to my apology, I apologize for the pure D’ ignorance that will ensue right after my number is called and I have to tell you, because I feel it lurking on the surface, it won’t be pretty.   It’s not that it’s my intention on embarrassing you as my friend, or shaming you, or to be braggadocios (just kidding, this one I probably really mean…I mean coooome on, it would be too easy!), it’s just that IF I win the Powerball, I’m certain another being will take hold of me and I’m not sure I could control it.  I’m not sure I would want to control it.  Hell, I might like it, now wouldn't THAT be something!  I don’t know how I’ll act because, I've never been an ummm...millionaire? A thousandaire? LOLOL Shi…beyotch I’m a freelancer…you don’t have to see my bank account to do my math! Lol So, I don’t know much, but what I DO know is IF I won, I would do the following things:

1) Quit my job.  Yes, I know the payout isn't immediate. No I don’t care.  Hell, I wouldn't even call and       quit, I would be a straight up no show.  I might even send a text saying “Has anyone seen Nika?” followed by a picture of me drinking a bottle of champagne straight out the bottle.  Ignorant? Uh huh.  Rude? Sure. Satisfying? Fuck yeah!

2)  Since NYC requires you to have a conference.  I will straight DIVA out on them.   I’ll send notice by   Jeffro (yes I will hire me a runner strictly off of an IOU) and in this notice it will have my Rider. In my Rider it will state, in order to see me I must be addressed by my ENTIRE name, if you don’t know it…figure it out…if you can’t figure it out, you can’t address me.  (hehehe)  No one can look me directly in the eye.  It must be catered by Red Lobster (ultimate feast only with extra butter and extra Cheddar Bay biscuits) Man listen….when I’m done this “conference mandate” will be amended. Please believe!  Hahahaha

No seriously, wtf? How are you going to MAKE me have a conference about MY money?! Where they do that at? If that’s the case, let’s have a conference now?  

“Attention great people of NYC: I, Nika, am broke as fuuuuuuuuuck.  Send me some money?”

3)  Okay back to my Lottopallozza, before I get to the conference I will take the money out of my account that I currently have.....umm hmmm…in ones…and make it rain whilst playing "Bands a Make Her Dance" from my iPhone .  And you know what?  Eff it,while I’m at it…I might…Yo…juuussst I might…do this all while wearing a full length fur, wife beater, stilettos, with doorknockers. I mean if I’m going to be a stereotype, I may as well deliver, you feel me?!?! *hi fives* 

4)  Now, the first thing I will do AFTER said conference, is call all my creditors and tell them to kiss my a** annnnnd   &%$*# a payment plan. I will do this 3 times a day even on Sundays. It’s called karma, and I believe I’m owed my 40 acres and a muthaeffin mule! Word!

5)  I will then secure a portion of my money for post-trick off, living fund.  Oh yes….post trick off living fund.   LOLOL (ohhhh this is fun) 

6)  A few ways I will trick off the remainder of my money:

• Travel to every 3rd world country………………………in search for a child to adopt.  Hahahahahaha Y'all thought I was going to be on some humanitarian isht huh? Nope.  When I make it big I’m going to be big like Hollywood big, and everyone knows the path to Hollywood is a little 3rd world baby?!  I will need me one. It will take money to find one. Don’t blame me, blame the system. I’m a victim. 
• Why would I need to adopt a child? Well, I’m a writer.  I work in television. I could do movies….with my money I could produce my own movies.  I could be better than Tyler Perry.  But I need in the inner circle and since I can’t go Scientology rigggght? Hey man, save a kid, make it big. What?

You know what….let me stop here. I feel the more I write the further away from winning I get LOL.  I don’t want God to think I can’t win because I don’t know how to act. LOL

I mean, I knoooow how to act…kind of….I mean I totaaally act properly while I’m broke…buuutt...siggggh I’m just saying…..

Okaaaay…..Sorry???

I mean what would you do if you won?

A VERY NIKA THANKSGIVING

“Nobody loves me, nobody cares,

Nobody picks me peaches and pears.
Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,
Nobody listens and laughs at me jokes.
Nobody helps when I get into a fight,
Nobody does all my homework at night.
Nobody misses me,
Nobody cries,
Nobody thinks I'm a wonderful guy.
So, if you ask me who's my best friend, in a whiz,
I'll stand up and tell you NOBODY is!
But yesterday night I got quite a scare
I woke up and Nobody just WASN'T there!
I called out and reached for Nobody's hand,
In the darkness where Nobody usually stands,
Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,
But I found SOMEBODY each place that I looked.
I searched till I'm tired, and now with the dawn,
There's no doubt about it-
NOBODY'S GONE!!” ― Shel Silverstein

***Oh my, like don’t you just loooooooooove Shel Silverstein!!!! ***

All of last week I kept trying to remind myself to write a Thanksgiving post and in typical Thanksgiving fashion, I decided the post should be about all the things I was thankful for.  But to be honest and completely transparent (as if I wasn’t going to be) I was having a hard time coming up with a list, hence the delay in the post.   

Don’t get me wrong, yes I’m grateful for the usual suspects: To be breathing-because who wants to be dead? To have my parents: because where would I be without them blah blah blah, those are given, and I thank God for them every day (sorry you’re not privy to my prayers).  However, let’s be honest those don’t reeeeaaally make for good reading. So In my effort to reach past my lust for air, and I was coming up short...like waaaay short.  I just couldn't think of more things to be thankful for…period.

Now, if I divulge more, I must tell you that I’m having a really, really, really rough month like incredibly tough and because of that I've been very mopey and just blaaaaah.  Basically, I've been hosting one helluva pity party all by my lonesome!  With that said, whilst tossing glitter at my soiree of one, it was really bothering me that I couldn't come up with one thing to be thankful for… Crazy right???  As crazy and self-consumed as that sounds (yes I know it’s waaaay me, me, me), I was supes intrigued by it, I mean word Nik? Nothing? It made me WANT to come up with a list like I NEEDED to come up with a list. 

So one morning afternoon, while lying in the bed sitting at the table with my bottle glass of wine... Hell, you know the deal. We’re grown here and well…when in doubt, drink it out. *hi-fives*   But I digress, as I was saying while sitting at the table with my wine about 1/4 in *ahem*…1/2 in….*ahem*…oh hell 3/4 in…it came to me! A list of things I’m thankful for:

Nik’s Thankful Thanksgiving of 2012:

Living a scabie free life:

Why not starts this list off with a bang?! Y’all know I’m a freelancer right? And as a freelancer one of the things I pride myself is being a woman of many trades, yes *nods head in excitement* much like an umm….renaissance woman! Let me explain, as a freelancer not only are you well versed in your skill set because you're constantly hustling for a job but most freelancers lack insurance. So you need to be a Homeopathologist, a M.D., a Psychiatrist, and a Nurse.  You have to be creative about your diagnosis, ingenious about your treatments, and sparing with your doctor’s appointments. So with that said, my faaaaavorite website is webMD.com.  Yes, yes, yes I know it’s my gift and my curse BUT sometimes it’s helped me.  NOOOOOO, not the time when I thought I had and diagnosed myself with a brain tumor but that time I had the sinus infection I was dead on!!!!  Hey, you win some you lose some...

Yo the other day, I was perusing the site trying to find a symptom that matched my current problem *side eye*. And I ran across scabies.  Dear God!  Do…you…know…what…scabies…are? Like have you ever….googled it?  Do it right now.  I’ll wait……..

What THEE entire fuck right????? It’s like having your own personal parasite or 10! Oh and lord don’t let it be of the crusty species….*looks to the heavens* I mean it's called "The seven-year itch" for Christ's sake!!! Today, tomorrow, and for any day to come, I am grateful for living a scabie free life.  The End!

Bacon:

I mean need I write about this?  When God made the heavens, earth, Adam and Eve…we were blessed with bacon! It’s in the hidden chapters trust me (or not) on this.  I mean yeah yeah yeah, there’s something in there about casting a demon or two into the swine….never mind that.  It’s of God, this I know, you know why?? Because happiness lives there. Period, the end, don’t even question it.  I mean why would something so good...be like….not good?! (Don’t answer that)

Footies on sale at target: 

Yo this seems like a simple thing. But it is not. Imagine this: 

*me

*walking around NYC

*already feeling down and rejected

*low and lonely

*cast out…an outcast if you will

You get the point…

*an hour into my excursion the elastic gives out on my only pair of footies left with no hole in the heel (that shit’s real!)

*it doesn't just give out, it creeps to the most sensitive part of my foot… the arch

*no matter how I try, the tricks I pull, no safety pin is enough, I cannot get the footie to stay…

*I try and I try

*I try and I try

*my foot is starting to chafe and I want to cry (you know i never miss a good rhyme)

*walk into target and glory be to God! A footie sale….

I.Am.Thankful.

My local winery:

Listen….okay…hey…sooooo….yeah….ummmmm….this speaks for itself right???

Bacon:

Swine so fine, its good fo my mind.  Thank you sweet baby Jesus!

Heat:

So I live in NYC, and no one does project, Sahara desert, burn you to a crisp, dehydrating to your soul, kill your plants and your sinuses, dry your eye sockets, wilt your lettuce, seal your containers, steam your clothes, evaporate your water- heat like an NYC apartment building.  How-some-ever, the other day it was like 30 degrees and I decided that maaaaybe I should be grateful for it.  I mean, I’m sure there’s someone out in the cold that would want to suck the luster out of their skin and perspire through their night clothes, bed sheets, and fresh blowout…..I’ve just never encountered them. So yeah, I"m thankful....I guess. 

Bacon:

The other white meat…made so sweet. Hallelu!

Hair to actually wash:

I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate like hate, hate, hate to wash my own hair.  I just recently cut it off for hopes that I will want to do it more and more often. I mean less hair has to mean less pain? No?  Yet as much as I hate it, I mean I could have alopecia rigggggght?  And that would just totally suck.  So I maybe I should hate it less, and thank it more.  Thank you hair for being on my head.

Ummm……wheeeewww….this is harder than I thought…..

Soooo Bacon? No? Not again? 

See what I mean??????   *Nika shrug….makes mental note to get more wine* Sigggghhhh ……

Well, at least I don’t have scabies….

A POEM BY NIKA

"Those who do not weep, do not see.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

Once upon a time there was a young lady who cried,

She cried so much people thought certainly someone died!

It wasn't that she cried because she was sad…

It wasn't that she cried because she was mad…

She wasn't in pain…

And she certainly didn't cry in vain

Yet this young lady cried and she cried very much.

She cried over big things and some little things too

People who've wronged her and wronged also you.

But then she cried because she was happy and joyous as well,

See why this young lady cried no one could really tell.

People were confused and found it quite bizarre

Some would offer their condolences, regrets from afar.

‘Cause people were afraid of getting close for fear of repercussions,

Afraid of coming near, afraid to spark a discussion.

In return the young lady masked her tears

She hid them from her loved ones… she hid them from her peers.

She felt ashamed of her leaking tear ducts.

They were sensitive and confused people, which totally fucking sucked.

Then one day she was thinking as she was wiping her tears,

Some things are what they are, and she certainly IS who she is.

And if you can’t be who you are, around your family or peers

Then you should reconsider your company or at least have some that endear.

Because in the end if a tear runs them away

Or even makes them stray…

Friends they were not;

They just weren't meant to be, so no need to be fraught.

Alas the young lady embraced her tears, ready to shed them another day.

Be it joyous occasions, or gloom or even in dismay.

She was ready to be the EMO girl she was called to be.

She’s a crier DAMN IT….and that girl is me.

The End….