A Smile with Hidden Truth

I type this thru a blurry of tears.

I’ve been here before …I’ve made this trek, this journey before. …I’ve experienced this at least two other times in my mid-length life, but it never fails to get easier.  You never become so experienced that the pain is lessened or that the tears are able to be kept at bay…..it always feels the same in some way: hurtful, scary and somehow, thru it all, beautiful at the same time. 

I type this thru less tears than what I started with.
Sentimental Mood is playing thru the headphones into my ears and the tapping of the keys makes one wonder if the piano player knew that every key he was hitting would sound like a memory to woman with more than a handful of them.  The horns will slowly bring this song back to the origin of its beat and again the sentiments will come back in a blurry of tears……

Ahhhhh

Yes, there it is….

The original melody returning near the ending

And the blurry of tears is less than what started but still just as prominent….yes, indeed I have been down this road before….i have loved and let go before….one of the my hardest things to do…but when given no other option but do so, I do.  With ease and a smile…..at least in front of those I’m letting go of. ...but at home, behind the smile, comes the sadness....but not a sadness that lingers....just a sadness for all that will change for us.

The first time,

I will never forget the day she left.  I had one a white shirt that came past my hips into a flare.  I had bought it from NY&Co….one of our favorite stores at the time.  That morning, we went out for Ocharley’s and I thought of all the times we would save NY&Co coupons and then go piddling thru the store looking for something to buy with our $25 off $100.  We were both fools for sales, coupons and anything that offered clothing at a discounted price or with free shipping….or both.  Lol…..at our Ocharley’s lunch date, we ate up rolls and laughed and talked and never really discussed how much things would change from that day forward.  I remember  as we got closer to my house, the reality set in and I kept having to remind myself not to let her see me cry. I have a thing about people seeing tears from me…..i’ve read its an Aquarius trait and that may or may not be true, but for me, in my life, it is very much so.  I don’t like to let people see me get to that level of emotion.  Its too vulnerable perhaps…..once we pulled into the driveway, the goodbye was rather swift.  We spoke about missing each other already and how we would not let distance kill a friendship that was so priceless.  And we both meant it well.  We got out the car and had her brother snap one last photo of us together.  She in her Race for the Cure shirt and me in my NY&Co. shirt.  We stood there with smiles that hid facts.  Fact was, we were sisters and one of us was embarking on a different journey.  A new journey.  And all the love and friendship in the world couldn’t stop that journey from happening.  And it needed not….for the truth about love is no matter where time and travel take us, true love exists beyond any earthly boundaries.  It is the ultimate gift to a person if treated correctly by all parties.  Love is love…if that makes any sense…..and between the  two of us, we had formed a bond, a lasting friendship and a true sisterhood unlike anything else for either of us with anyone else.  We had reached a level of mature understanding with each other that gifted us to not so much as have a small argument.  We had proved to ourselves that there were good people out there, us being two of them, that will treat you with respect and love at all times, minus judgement.  That is my sister.  And as I watched her car drive away to drop off her brother and hit the hwy to her new life, the tears started falling before I could get good in the house and although they would stop soon afterwards, because how dare I be sad that my best friend in the world was providing me with a new getaway ;)  , they wouldn’t be too far behind….i would tear up at different times remembering the facts that our smiles had hidden so well in our last Indy picture…..that life is a constant change.  And we as humans have to adapt to the change or die from it.  This change in my life and that of my sister’s would no longer allow us to come to opposite sides of town for late brunches or meet ups at OCharley’s for soft bread and honey butter.  But all in all, we never lost our spirit.  We never lost our comfort with each other and dare I say we grew closer together further apart.  We don’t talk every day as we are both such busy women.  But …that’s my sis. That is my sister.  I don’t even refer to her as a friend. She is my sister.  How we went thru life for so long not having known each other was out here is amazing.  Because all in all, we both needed each other very much. And not even  hundreds of road miles can change the fact that our love for each other stands right next to each other at all times.

The second time…..

another sister……..her move was more quickly executed.  She lived right around the corner from me and had only been there for less than a year when her life’s journey took her East bound.  I’ve always been a supportive friend.  In my mind I might be screaming at the top of my lungs PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME HERE WITH THE REST OF THESE PEOPLE, but aloud, all I will say is I will miss you.  We had become so used to the living room, the music and TheHealingClass…..nights of spontaneous laughter and dancing….dogs barking…..phone calls where we are looking at each other eye rolling the person on the other end…..we had partied, celebrated, cried, introduced each other and grown up together in my living room that was just big enough to contain all of our love without the house combusting.  She too was my sister.  She IS my sister.  She has a special place in my heart that will never cease to exist.  I will never fight for her attention or call attention towards myself and my undying ultimate love for her because we both already know it without speaking it.  Our inboxes reflect it. Our cyber laughter tells us how much we miss our living room chill sessions.  Girl talk…..laughs that just keep going on and on and on and us not knowing why we are even still laughing…..yeah.  That last day was another one just like the first.  A day that I was being told by the universe to let go of another sister without fuss or fight.  Another internal warfare of tears and melancholy but I take pleasure in seeing my loved ones make life choices and execute them….at least try it.  If it doesn’t work, plan B. …I’ll be there regardless.  So for all the sadness in the world, I was UBER happy for her because I felt she was not just leaving this state….she was entering a new state of mind.  A new journey towards self.  I felt like the opportunity for her to remember how well she smiles and how beautiful she is was not here.  I knew it.  She knew it.  God knew it.  So on she went.  I didn’t hug her nearly as tight as I should’ve.  I never do.  My hugs suck, but its not on purpose. It’s a part of me, that part of me that doesn’t like to let ppl see me cry, that tries to keep me from showing just how much X-moment means to me. I want to get better with that.  But I didn’t hug her tight enough….i didn’t want her to cry.  I didn’t want her to see me crying.  Surely I was a semi-pro at this right ? When she left and there was no car in sight and her house was empty, I drove up the street one good time and kissed her goodbye without her knowledge.  I blew one towards her old house and prayed her safe travels just as I did the prior time I journeyed down this type of road.   She had a much longer travel than my other sis.  But she was going somewhere to find something. Herself, love, life…..one of those….all of those….and who was I to hinder it in anyway with my sadness.  Once it had all settled and set in and I realized yet again in life, my person was gone, it was mind blowing…..how do I manage to keep sane when my CLOSEST people keep leaving me??? Is this God’s way of telling me to leave too ??? Surely it is…..i never told her how much it hurt me to know she was leaving.  I kept trying to be a pillar of strength for what I knew was already a hard but necessary decision.  She was gone.  She arrived safely in her new destination and all I could do was truly be happy for her.  She would come visit.  Just like my other sis.  And once again, I had another place to visit !!! J  On the side of the country I love the mostest !! J  Sooooo dare I complain ?  Why should I? Truth is, her move may be the main factor behind the reason we were able to share my favorite city together at least once! Her move brought us closer to a moment we both had only talked about millions of times in my living room with the music playing and the dogs barking.  We still create memories.   Our sisterhood never let up for a minute.  That love I tell you….it will never. Leave. You. …..unless you let it.

Today is happening.

We are in the throws of it right now.  We can’t turn back the clocks, we can’t undo the damage or change the past.  We can’t make those who were once here but are now far away reappear and we can’t become complacent on being hurt.  We can’t linger too long in the fact that people move and leave and friendships change and seasons change and shit happens.  Right now, we are 13 or so days way from spring.  A new growth season is upon all of us. Pretty soon , the cold snowy days will be a memory.  The trees will begin producing new buds of flowers and leaves and the birds will come out earlier and earlier as the mornings brighten sooner and sooner.  On this day, a woman I met and found myself in a really healthy friendship with, is in the midst of a life changing decision.  This woman also became my sister. And its funny because for so long, I thought people only have a handful of friends (real ones) and an even lesser amount of people they would actually consider family, much less call fam.  I don’t know how true or false that statement is in life in general, but speaking from my life and my experiences, I have found myself to finally be surrounded with goooooood people.  People who are so good that they defy the logic of friendship and become true sisters without intent.  It just happens.  You just look and realize “hey, this person is truly my sis…she would have to be to do xyz”…… I am making the walk down the plank of life with another sister.  A Queen who simply put is a DOPE ASS PERSON!! Like, in real life.  And in real life, we are slow strolling down this plank together.  But its not a plank of death and/or destruction….this plank is LIFE.  At the end, there is not a jump for water.  There is a liftoff towards the skies.  I stand next to another sister who is about to spread her wings and find herself in flight.  When I helped her clean her house up for showing, it felt like the scene out of Sex in the City when the girls helped Carrie pack up her house and at the end, they all stood there and laughed that laugh that hid the truth…..the truth being, things are changing. 

  Yes things are changing.  And I couldn’t be more proud or more honored to watch another sister take flight. ….she’s experienced a lot.  As did my other two sisters.  Indy holds so much intense pain from various outlets for all of us.  When I think about all four of us as a whole,  its hard for me to fathom how I’ve stayed here within the confines of my pain for so long but I’m looking  for my out.  Its just not my time yet.  When it is, I trust that I will know.  In the meantime, I will keep working towards that liftoff for me personally so that someone else may hold in tears behind smiles that hid the truth.   But my sisters, all three of them, found this place to be a place of pain and love, hurt and happiness and time and space.  They’ve spent their time here….now its time for space.  Distance….this sister of mine still has a some months left before she opens those wings out completely and I watch her flight while pretending the wind is what is making my eyes tear up.  But this is the countdown.  That countdown I’ve experienced two other times.  And I’m not a pro…..and although my eyes are not blurry at this moment, bits and pieces of it coming together do make me tear up. …but again, not in a bad way. ….not even in a selfish way….almost in a melancholy-joyful way.  Another sister I will hate to see leave but will love to watch her fly.  She deserves it.  So did my other two.  As I see her get closer and closer to the end of this plank, as much as the grand finale will pain me internally, I would be a lie if I said I am not inspired.  Not just by her leaving, but by her fearlessness….all one needs is a drop of it, kinda like melanin, and you can overcome anything that makes you want to turn around and run.  She is not running.  She is walking, in her own pace, towards the lift off….and her wings are not at her sides…..they are opening…..as a matter a fact, they are moving…..finding their footing out here…..and pretty soon, she will be another teaching moment for me…..a moment that dares me to say enough already, I want in on that ! Another moment for me to reflect and ask myself am I am too scared ??? Another moment of inspiring sisterhood.

I have three women that I look at like direct family.  Closeknit sisters.  Kin.  Beyond friendships.  These women have already made or are about to make a new life decision.  A huge one.  A sometimes lonely one, a hard one, a fun one and albeit, a BEAUTIFUL one. 
This IS TheScaryBeautiful. 

This is life.

This is not loss.  This is not ending friendships or sisterhoods or losing touch with each other.

This is a new beginning…..

This is LIFE.  …..a new chapter.  A new blossom on the tree just in time for spring. 

A new place on another side of the country that I get to run too sometimes ;)  

This IS sisterhood.   
Its selfish to wish  they would stay or come back or to wish I was going to.  But I’d be a lie if I said those things weren’t true.  Its hard to get close to people and then have to let them go.  But this isn’t letting go as in cutting ties.  This is letting go and letting live. Indy simply isn't big enough to hold all four of these personalities together.  The light that emits from the four of us individually is enough to rival Times Square. 

  Thru love, true love indeed, none of these bonds will ever be broken.  Space is just room for love to grow right ?  I believe so. 

So on this day, while I am no one’s professional at seeing off my sisters,

I look at it with a tear….a glossy, blurry tear that is welled up behind my retina…..and even tho this blog is sorta tell all-ish, she will likely never see that tear when it falls.  I want her to be wished well and from the heart.  I want her to grow.  I want her to LIVE….and be FREE.

Just like I wanted for my other sisters.

So I guess the only thing I am truly a pro at, is putting on this smile to hide the truth. The truth being, although my love will never change, I will (or already do) miss the hell out of my sisters...but i am SOOOO fucking inspired by you ladies....your fearlessness and your belief in you!

I love you ladies.

#ToTheMoon.

#jY

The Scary Beautiful.

Coming Soon.......................

Graphics done by The AIDG.  Photos done by TheBeautifulStruggle(NYC) & Cheria Caldwell & jY. Gifts given by God.

ShotsFired: Everyone Ducks Except Love.

I can’t make you love me

If you don’t

You can’t make your heart feel

Something it won’t………………..

So truth….it doesn’t matter what kind of beautiful black and proud woman I proclaim to be….it doesn’t matter how awesome of a writer I may be or how great my show’s turn out was…..it doesn’t matter how good I cook in the kitchen, and I do cook goooooood……but that doesn’t matter…..the size of my bedroom, the amount of shoes in my closet room or the thickness of my thighs and how sexy they might look in a summer dress does not matter….

When its all said and done

I can’t make you love me if you don’t. 

I can’t force feed myself to turn interesting in your eyes, I can’t make the clock speed up to a possibility….all I can do is accept reality and figure out a way to  deal with it.  Reciprocity has alluded me most of my life in many different situations.  Its not secret that I have a mild obsession with love and obtaining and holding onto a feeling that is almost overpowering but in a healthy way….but i can’t share my mind or my heart with someone who does not want it…..

And even if he does

I can’t make that be ENOUGH for me…..

Ain’t I so much better than a tape dispenser……a faux mechanical flower in a breakable flower pot that doesn’t even come with the batteries so I can see how it works ???? Ain’t I better than love that isn’t really there ???? Course-ran love ??? Haven’t  I finally, after all of this time, bloomed into a least somewhat of the woman that I want to be and that is just enough, if not more, for the perfect imperfect opposite to my cold bed ???  Surely I jest…….

But I can’t make that be.

In one of my new poems, I wrote about loneliness and how my biggest problem with it is that I can’t make it go away at my beckoning call……I can’t just twitch my bewitch nose and watch Prince Michael or Tall Larry or Thick Anthony come barreling thru the door with an arm full of hugs and a fistful of kisses……that is the problem with being lonely….its not that I don’t like to be alone…I love it…..but it’s the fact that sharing space with someone who makes me feel more alone than I would be if I really were [alone], makes loneliness feel like a car accident …..of which the car is about to blow

And I’m stuck behind the wheel

Legs immobile, door locked and waiting ….

Just waiting on the end to happen.

I can’t make you love me……

I can only be me, do me and see me for what I am worth….and if I know anything about any ounce of my worth, then I know I am worth more than a Walgreen’s thought….

I don’t have a broken heart

I have a numb heart

My ex, who somehow still manages to keep up with my number (thanks mommy) called from Jail to apologize FINALLY, for all the things that happened…..we were both guilty of a lot of shit….in a perfect world, I would have apologized to him too for my part…..look here, I used to threw them bows, do you hear me ???? I mean ,I would let off an eye shot with the right push of the wrong button, I didn’t have no shame……

Until the fight was over…..and the reality of how I looked and/or felt set in.

But I digress…..the least of our worries were physical fighting….

Or maybe some of it I just don’t even remember….when I read the journal from that era, I am greeted with shit I must have put in my repressed memory file… *shrug *  

But he apologized…..for the first time….its been almost ten years ago…..a tumultuous four years of my life that ended with a broken woman who had NO IDEA who the hell she was…..she wasn’t Butter no more…..and hadn’t really nurtured Kendria……nsaychable was still forming outside for the world to see, but imagine the lost individual inside of me…i accepted his apology because i had forgiven him years ago....his karma is whooping that ass right now and there is nothing i could say, do or wish that would be colder revenge, although i'm not vengeful and i actually feel sorry for him.…want to know something honest??? The  first dude I dated after that ex,..i remember he wouldn’t answer the phone one day……

And then the next

And then I started leaving messages…..and couldn’t stop….i went from hurt to angry to hurt to angry….this little fucktard was barely the same height as me and had the audacity to act like he was the shit…..and I was too vulnerable to think otherwise…..i begged him to just call me back over his voicemail…..you know what he did ???? 

He let a mutual friend, who I had known much longer than him ( I think they were cousins or some silly shit….small indy town shit) listen to all of those messages……all of my business, my vulnerabilities out there for what felt like the world to listen to….me begging ???? A short fucktard of a nigga ?????   Kiss and tell bitch ass shit is what it was but the embarrassment set me straight and I realized I was setting a bad example for my reflection, so that relationshit ended. 

You can’t make someone see the beautiful you…..the internal light that you hold or the torch that you carry means little if reciprocity is something that cannot be reached…..sometimes the common denominator is too damned divisible and suddenly the numbers become different

Or there is some hanger on, clinging to the cliff of your fraction yet somehow considering itself a whole number…..sometimes…..

It just aint meant to be…..

And I can’t make you love me, if indeed you don’t.

Aint I better than a tape dispenser…..???

Aint I better than some sticky shit that depending on what you are trying to bond together, may or may not do the job correctly???? Scotch tape ????

Aint I better than Scotch ??? Couldn’t I at least have the strength of Duct Tape ??? LOL

Shit.

I can’t make you see me

I can’t make you be the poem in my eyes or to receive all that is me…..and I am by far no one’s perfection princess but oh yeah, I am so much more and better than what I have been and what I used to be…..and as the world around me moves ….

In rapid, constant motion…..

It becomes more and more clear to me that sticking around for the wrapping to loosen because the tape is too thin, is just not what I was meant for. 

Experiencing a new crush will do that to you…
you will either get crushed 
or 
crush a lot together…..

But for me, in this case, just the simple reminder of what it feels like to be smitten with someone, even if only briefly and un-acted upon,  is a smooth groove remembrance of how fun and flirtatiously aware that can make you.....its a fun thing....i'll take an unanswered flirt over a lifelong confusing pattern of back back, forth and back anyday!

aint i better than a ten dollar dispenser ??? 
yeah...i am....
and no matter how high the heel,

If what keeps us together

Is only Scotch tape

Then we are bound to drizzown.  LMAO! I had to say that.

Nope…I can’t make you love me….i can’t even make you be interested in me…..but I can make myself disappear from your peripheral views…..and I can easily become a memory…..and if history shows me correctly, there will likely come a time where one realizes the mistakes made on their part and wonders if the puzzle is still sitting on the table, waiting for them to come put the appropriate pieces in the right places…..but here at this table of fractions, whole numbers and mutual possibilities,

There is no puzzle…..

There is only rhythm

The rhythm is the bass

And the bass is the treble

And I aint got time for nothing or no one that doesn’t make me want to bob my head. #ShotsFired #DoubleEnten

Now….i need a feel up on pump 2. ;)

jY.

Fast Forward

Let me tell you a story about a little girl in a house on a hill who decided to answer the calling of something she’d never done before: 

Hosting.

*****Hosting is not something I have ever put much thought into.  Actually, I did host part of a show me and a friend of mine did at Write On some years ago…..the show was called Black Hollywood and I played host for all of about ten minutes……it was so outside my comfort zone that when I got on stage, as host, I felt like crickets were going off in my head…..i had NO IDEA what to say or how to proceed, so I generically said a couple non-funny jokes and immediately called the next person up and decided that would be my only attempt at hosting….FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m a writer. And sometimes I perform poetry…..but hosting….yeah, I aint nobody’s dangon host. Leave that for the professionals.

^^^^Its like I could hear those words as I was exiting the yin yang stage. 

***Fast forward some years and I was approached by two women who for whatever reason thought it a good idea to ask me to host a spot they had come up with.  I reluctantly said yeah, not knowing what in the world to expect.  And within two weeks, I started hosting. 

***Fast forward ten months. ….as we count down to (a total of 6 shows until) our year anniversary, I had to take a moment to reflect on the last ten months I have spent enjoying/complaining and loving every moment of hosting….it has been one helluva experience, I will tell you that. ….. since I had no expectations out the gate, it became a situation where I took creative control and said “Ok Ken, you have a venue and an opp to do whatever you want…..do it!!!” 

And the story is written…..i can only hope that DPoM goes up in history as a goooooood spot….not for my name….my name will be written in the perfect stone just the way it should be.  Hosting for me, is not about my name….its not about claiming fame or coming up with fancy events so that ppl can say Januarie York is the shit…..truth is, as much as I care about what people think, I don’t.  I care because any real person with a sense of drive and ambition knows that to a certain degree, it absolutely DOES matter what other people think.  But the rebellious Aquarian within me does not care whether or not a person thinks/thought I have done a good job.  I don’t care if you say jY is a dope poet, or jY puts together great events……because what I am is a good writer. I will embrace that.  I am a big dreamer…..and my dreams come true with great help from other people.  Nothing I do comes easy and nothing I do is done alone.   As I started outlining 2012 (for tax purposes) last night, I couldn’t help but smile at the successes, win/lose/draw, of DPoM…….i have a team of strong black women on each of my sides and together, the three of us laid out an initial vision to be DIFFERENT and to create an environment that was welcoming to all people, of all races.  Everything we’ve done has been open to the public to partake in, directly or indirectly.  What we have wanted more than anything was to create an environment of unified energies having a good ass time on a early week work night.  And I think these last ten months have done a good job of all of that.  

I mean this from my heart, when I look out into the audience and see smiles or looks that show someone is thinking or relating to what is being said…..when I hear the audience talking back, when the room goes dead silent and when the people are chanting fuck it, feel it together, there is a spirit that comes over me that is almost unable to be described.  I only wish life was as good as those moments ALL THE TIME…..i could almost say I live for every other Tuesday night.  But with hosting, comes a lot.  To whom much is given, much is required.

Fast Forward to the trials*:

With hosting comes responsibility.  Having tried my hand at this for the last ten months, and I am by far full of no one’s seniority, I have been able to see a different side of poetry.  Hosting has given me empathy for situations hosts sometimes end up in; where as the artist in me might not have understood so easily.  I have dropped the ball as a host a few different times.  I have failed to promote correctly, I have made flyers late, I have forgot tip buckets and more.  I have done my fair share of ball dropping as a host, so I have come to have not only a greater understanding of this position, but also a newfound respect for hosts……

……….some hosts.

Some just don’t give a fuck.  They don’t try, they don’t care and it’s an anything goes situation.  I have been fortunate to not have worked hands on with many of those types of hosts, but if this were an honest blog, which it is, I would admit that those kinds do exist.  And for those, I don’t have empathy or understand for.  You know why????

Because I’m just a different kind of person.  I think there is a way to make shit right if & when it goes wrong and if you choose to do nothing, then I can’t empathize w/that because I CANNOT understand it.

*Fast forward to Responsibility.*

With hosting comes a level of responsibility that if you don’t know what all it entails, you will surely learn thru trial and error, as I have, depending on how long you continue to do it.  As hosts, we are charged with unspoken responsibilities to keep our people happy.  Who are our people???

*the audience

*the venue

*the features

*anyone I didn’t mention who is in the building

It is our job to keep the crowd engaged, to entertain in between poets, to see to it that our features for the evening are in the city, well taken care of and ready to perform.  We have to market, we have to shop, we have to be accommodating.  Hosting does not equal “I get to do a lot of poems” …..sometimes, I don’t even think about doing a poem because I’m so engulfed in whatever is going on around me.  Passing the bucket, making sure people are putting in (not taking out), making sure the people of the night are paid, making sure the audience is listening, making sure if someone wants on the list, they make it if there is time…..its a very “accommodating” job.  

And then there are the finances. …..#TheScaryBeautiful.

As I mentioned, I forgot to pass the tip bucket for a feature from out of town…..This is when the “host” in me leaves and the artist/human in me reminds herself to get it together dammit……I ain’t gonna lie….i stressed myself out for the next two months about it….you know why??? Because I told my feature that I would make up the difference out of my own pocket……not because I wanted him to go back spread the good word that “if jY forgets your tip bucket, she will cover it” …..but because I am an artist…..and a human.   I have worked as a full time, part time & featured poet before…. so there is no excuse available for me to say “I don’t understand where they are coming from” in regards to wanting that tip $$…..we as artists, esp as full time artist, COUNT on all possibilities of $$$ …..the longer we are in the business, we know what is feasible to “count” and what could go “either way”……we know not to count on a certain amount in the tip bucket, but we also know that if the venue says they are “passing it” that we can expect SOMETHING.  I would say I start off with $30, depending on the crowd…in my head, as an artist featuring, I might consider myself able to collect $30, give or take a few ends and again, depending on the crowd size (and how the show itself goes).  I figure if I expect low, it won’t be a bad thing if I look up and its $60 bucks in there….but if I expect $60 and I end up w/$25, I might be up shit creek….at least thinking-wise. Lol…..so I stay low. But that’s just me….But the point is, we count that money…….poets don’t hit the pavement featuring around so they can take the money and go buy shoes and shit.  I can count on my hand how many shoes I have bought with poetry funds…. 0_o  Which could contribute as to why I don’t want to be a full time poet…..LMAO!

But featuring poets are counting on the money they are promised….they are counting on the tip bucket being passed if that’s what you said as well as CD/book/Merch Sales, at least to some degree……so it almost goes like an arithmetic poetic equation:  x+y+1/2 + 50=$$ + merchX-CostOfTravelZ.  

Yeah its like that.  When we go out somewhere, we are COUNTING on a whole figure when we leave that may not be exactly what we predict, but we hope it will come very close to it.  So when we leave and part of that equation turns to negative zero, we leave out in a deficit, no matter what we ended up with.  Why the deficit ? Did we self-sabotage by expecting too much?  

Well the deficit is because we were expecting to have “around about” X amount of dollars.  Did we self sabotage by thinking this way ??? NO…..this is survival of the fittest.  When you are full time, you are paying bills, making it to the next stop and eating off of what you do.  Imagine if you are traveling out of town ??? Do you have somewhere to stay ? Do you have gas money ? How are you traveling ? Who paid for your travel ? The list of check off questions can go on and on, so rewinding back to me promising to recover those lost tip dollars for my much deserving feature, it was the RIGHT thing to do.  I have a job.  I might end up taking a loss, I might end up needing to figure out how to stay afloat from the missing money from my check, but at the end of the day, if I am in the wrong, I have to make it right.  So that lack of tip bucket passing, became my new bill.  A bill that I didn’t get to pay until 30+ days and three checks later.  But I paid it and prayed that it came right on time for him.  It was my hosting responsibility to correct that mistake on my behalf.  It wasn’t the people’s fault who brought me as a host…it wasn’t the venue….it wasn’t the audience or the DJ’s fault and it surely wasn’t the poet’s fault.  It was my mistake, my correction and while the correction took a minute to make good on, I tried to stay in touch with him to let him know he wasn’t forgotten but not “So in touch” that I kept making faulty excuses that would fall thru.  The problem with over-communicating is sometimes you try so hard and so much that you think (or hope) that you can make something work by a certain day and it turns out impossible.  So I tried to keep distance and stay close at the same time until the issue was resolved.  

I say that story for reason.  Not in attempts to tip my hat or to down anyone but possibly to make my fellow hosts question their actions:

Again, we have a responsibility that sometimes we don’t sign up for.  A responsibility that sometimes we may not want or that will cause interference with our regular, non-hosting lives……you think I didn’t need that money I sent him ??? Mannnn I missed it as soon as it was gone…….but that’s been months ago AND I never went below water. I’m still breathing.   I made it thru that and possibly kept my hosting rep in some kind of decent order.   And that is the for real point of this blog.

Fast forward to final thought:

We as hosts have to operate in a different mindset sometimes that we were not necessarily signing up for when we said “I wanna host or I’m gonna do this”.  Maybe this blog will shine light into the silent job of hosting and give someone something to think about if they are considering it.  Its not meant to turn anyone  away from the job or make anyone fearsome of hosting.  I honestly can’t think of anything I’d rather do every other Tuesday (but not more than that, shit…lololol) other than hosting.  I have a great team behind me, a cute DJ w/dimples and a black owned venue.  My audience is live, they let me ramble about everything from my dogs to my mom and overall and we support each other….which does not equate to asses in chairs, for me. ….in my mind, supporting me is as simple as telling someone about us. ….sharing a flyer…..coming out….staying late, leaving early, dropping off  someone…..man the list goes on.  I am proud.  I am ecstatic and I am happy to have been asked to be apart of something this beautiful and inspiring. I have been inspired and amazed in more ways than I can count in the last 10 months.

As we approach our first year anniversary, with the next six shows already accounted for, I tip my hat, at all of us hosts out here doing our jobs……our unspoken jobs that are not always patted on the back……people don’t always come up to us and say “thank you for doing that” …..folks don’t always look at you and be like “do you need some help???” …….and that is ok….i am NOT complaining about that. ….a lot of the times, folks have no idea what all hosting REALLY entails….What I AM saying is sometimes hosting is a thankful thankless job.  Sometimes we are tasked with shit we weren’t expecting.  Sometimes we drop the ball.  Sometimes we go overboard and sometimes we don’t go in deep enough.   But if your HEART is in the right place and you align your head up w/your heart, you will succeed….in whatever you do but in this case, hosting : )

You will leave a legacy. 

You will trailblaze and start new traditions.  Hosting,  in my opinion, is a stressful, fun job that allows creativity to BLOOM in full…..take advantage of it.  Love it. Embrace it all.  But most importantly, take care of your people.  Take care of your features. If you have to take an L in order to make sure your rep is intact or that your featured artists leave out happy and WILLING TO RETURN, then so be it.  Sometime’s that L is finances….sometimes you have to take it out your pay for the night, out of your paycheck for two weeks or hell, out of your Bill Me Later thru paypal.  But that dedication to the arts will be rewarded.  Have the faith in yourself and your people and your God that it will all work out for the good.  Don’t leave your people out here in the dark.

Don’t leave them clueless and don’t leave them mad. 

You will end up on the receiving end of a poem that you will likely fall in love with……

………………and won’t even know its about you.

So if you are a host

And have not already done so

Its time to Fast Forward to giving a fuck. 

With love to us all,

~jY

Sunshine & Pee

People:



People make me want to piss in their fucking eyeballs and call it Sunshine.  

#ThatIsAll


jY