MoGal Triad Release Concert 10-22-11!

I have been singing since I was a little girl.

I can still smell the Murray’s oil soap on Beautiful Gate Missionary Baptist Church’s floor where Pastor Lewis would fill our bellies with grits, eggs, toast and a word from God. The youth choir (the best choir of the church) and organist would take the stand ready to call down fiery emotions and other manners of miracles. Though we didn’t have a drummer, that hard wood floor would become an instrument for this huge voice in this tiny little kid who wanted God to remember that he’d put a voice inside of her. A voice that I would be afraid to use outside of church for almost 20 years.

Fast forward to 2011 and I am at the dawn of realizing a dusty and deferred dream. A dream that has had so much prophesy and emotional/professional investment that it’s unreal. A dream that my recently departed friend David A. Blair never allowed age to deter him from. A new reality for myself. I am a vocalist and songwriter of my very first project Space Between the Rain.

This project has been a 6-year labor of love. At times, it seemed like I had so many insurmountable internal issues, that this album would never be birthed. At other moments, the album became a love song that I desperately needed to get out to the masses. Having successfully thrived as a poet and host, I definitely had (maybe still have) some apprehension about doing music as a full-time gig. However, the poetry has always been the gimmick for me. The music has always been my real passion.

I AM HERE! I have an arsenal of real lyrics and one of the most creative bands in the land. I have relinquished every excuse that would keep me from living my dream of singing. I am embracing the most authentic version of myself. I am ready.

I encourage each of you to stop chasing your dreams. Stop relinquishing your dreams. Stop being talked out of your dreams. Stop putting dollar signs on your dreams. Live, Dammit. Seize your dreams by the neck and refuse to let go. Allow the Universe to conspire and bend to make your deepest desires come into fruition. Take risks.

You’ve only got one life…don’t you dare waste a second of it on “what could have beens”.

See you on the 22nd for the album release concert.

See you…in my dreams.

Ya Gurl,

La Shaun phoenix Moore (professionally)
La Shaun phoenix Kotaran (for life)

About the Event (as advertised on FaceBook): http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=127092130724178

SoundThought Recordings and Dakota Avenue West Publishing presents:

Girls Aloud: The MoGal Release Concert!!

Hosted by: Khary Kimani Turner

October 22, 2011

1515 Broadway Theatre
1515 Broadway St.
Detroit, MI 48226
Doors at 7:30 PM, Show at 8:00 PM
Tickets: $15 in advance, no inflation at the door.

This evening will be filled with incredible live music, poetry and a soulful good time!

About the artists:

Andrea Daniel, the newest poet from Dakota Avenue West Publishing, is releasing her first book of poems, Like Gwendolyn. Its four chapters reveal her many layers as she explores life, death and the stuff in between, and love in its many forms. And, with an honest depth she uncovers the layer of herself as a survivor of domestic violence. She also writes from a mother’s perspective about the love she has for her son, in poems written when she was, sometimes separated from him when he was a child. Like Gwendolyn is a body of work that is refreshingly truthful, bold and sassy.

La Shaun phoenix Moore, new artist on Detroit indy label SoundThought Recordings is releasing her first vocal project, Space Between the Rain. Space Between the Rain divinely brings phoenix’s two worlds – music and poetry – together in one home. As singer/songwriter, she expresses sweet, sexy and playful romantic love, love of her people and love of the written word. The CD is filled with ballads, and a sprinkling of mid-tempo, danceable grooves.

Inohs Sivad, veteran artist on SoundThought Recordings is releasing her third album, No Goodbyes. In the years since her sophomore album Changes, Inohs cared for her mother, Deborah Orr, who battled cancer until her passing last year. After watching her mother live a purposeful life in spite of her illness, Inohs responded in the only way she knows how: through her music. No Goodbyes is a tribute to and a celebration of her mother’s life. With No Goodbyes, Inohs has further defined her crystal clear, silky voice, with music that is both reflective and joyful, following her soul alternative fusion of soul, jazz, R & B, rock and a little bit of house.

For more info on tickets click our link below

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=BAZXHGTW4JDDY

OR

check out our website at:
www.inohssivad.com
www.lashaunphoenixmoore.com

My husband and I are blessed to have a two-family income. It affords us the opportunity to take a few extra vacations a year, enjoy dinner out a couple of extra times a month, movies, gatherings – I mean we have a few things. Amen. Tony also hustles once or twice a week gathering scrap metal from the streets. The extra money from his hustle helped to pay off our wedding and will cover the expenses for our upcoming honeymoon in September. What’s the purpose of this blog then? Time. Patience. Togetherness.

In all of the great things that extra income has done for our family, I’ve been missing Tony a lot lately. Conflicting work schedules, various demands as artists, caring for our parents (especially Tony) – we miss a lot of “us” moments. A beautiful couple in our lives who mentors us, suggested date nights. We’ve been blessed to even incorporate those into our schedules, however, I find myself being a little more bratty these days. I want more than a date night. More than a really great dinner or random gatherings with friends. I want…more.

I often find myself remembering all of the extra time that magically appeared when we first started dating almost 3 years ago. Where was that time coming from? Oh, I remember! Late arrivals to work with puffy eyes from lack of sleep. Long phone conversations until we fell asleep on each other! Staying awake much later than any normal person should conversing. I remember. Why has the need for rest and rejuvenation taken over?!

Shouldn’t money be buying me a few extra hours each day?!

Sigh…

I know that with every relationship there comes a time for sacrifices and compromises. I am opening myself up to equally dividing my time between my passions and my husband (who conversely is one of my greatest passions). I like money. I love all of the things that I am involved in. I love my husband much, much more. In my quest on being a great wife, I am learning that prioritizing my life is one of my greatest tools for success. My husband does so much for me. The very least that I can do for him is be available.

Let the organizing begin.

My beautiful rock star friend.

I’ve been struggling for a few days to write about you. I haven’t even been able to clean the house to The Line this weekend (like we do every weekend). Matthew said on the night that we found out about you transitioning, that with all of your travels, you’ve taught us to get used to you leaving. I keep thinking that you’re off on another tour. I’m waiting for the email or text or phone call where we catch up on where you’ve been. I love…loved talking to you. The way that you tell stories; the way you put your whole body into the conversation, I miss that. I will miss the Sunday dinners…the late night games of Scrabble, and that stupid music game that Christina made us play when you twisted your ankle trying to act out James Brown, or you kicking my ass at Cranium. I will miss your hearty laugh, your gap-tooth smile. I will miss conversations over good beer. I will miss a thoughtful cigarette and honest conversation. I will miss you sharing new poems, newer unreleased music. I will miss my brother who always brought soda or wine or salad (which Marvin hates) to Sunday dinner.

I will miss calling you by your first and last name. David Blair. David Blair. David Blair. I will not pretend to know the mind of God. I will not clench my fists in anger and toss expletives about why I think you should still be here. I, like Marvin, am hoping that you and Michael Jackson are dancing and singing somewhere dope. You are dope, Blair. Running through my blood. You were…you are the sweetest, most beautiful addiction I’ve ever had. You are inspiration. You are why I will never believe that I’m too old to do anything. You are why I will love to the fullest – everyone that I come in contact with. I will miss you and love you for a long, long, long time.

Book club will never be the same without you. Remember when you and Matt called book club The Old Middle-Aged Women Book Club? Remember when you told me that Eat, Pray, Love was gay and your ass was the first one to read it? Do you know how much life you bring to a situation? How do I fill the bottomless hole that you’ve left here in my heart, my beautiful inspiration? I’m glad your transition was peaceful. I’m glad that you left KNOWING that you were loved and that you gave the best love to everyone you came in contact with. Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me. For sharing a drink (or three) before the show. For showcasing your new poem. For calling me an old bird at my dinner party. For rushing to make it to almost every performance I’ve had. Blair – you almost never missed a performance of me. For loving my book. For loving me. Thank you for loving me so so much.

I have too many memories over the last 9 years to process about you. I would never be able to capture them all. You were HERE. You are HERE – forever -walking the line between various worlds. Loving us. Guiding us. Thank you.

We's Married Now!

So, in exactly 2 more days Tony and I will celebrate 2 months of marriage. It has been a wonderful couple of months growing, planning, dreaming and deepening our friendship.

While sitting at a park today and watching Tony fish, taking in the sounds of the birds, the water and the sunlight, I begin to think about how so many of the things I thought I would be or wanted have change since this little round man entered my life. Ten years ago, when I first entertained how much I wanted to be married, I’d saturated myself with so many magazines and black statistics that said women who are smart, or older, or not paper thin are in the category of women who don’t get married. I realized as I looked at my husband, that I’d really thought that I was going to be one of those women.

Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the beauty of my creativity and independence and carefree lifestyle just like the next woman. But, I can’t lie. I wanted a life partner to share this journey with…like forever. Meshell Ndegeocello exclaims on her record Mass Transit “At the end of the day, nobody wants to be alone”. I realized that more honest words hadn’t been spoken than those for me. The sentence, in fact, was so piercing that I began a daily proclamation to the Universe to send me my life partner.

I didn’t think that he was going to be a little round white chef. However, I did hope that he would love a chubby singing poet who dreams a lot, cares too much and wants to save the world. I did hope that he was honest and faithful and didn’t judge and didn’t hit girls. Man, has he stunned me by meeting that criteria. I am forever grateful and richly blessed.

In that, I’d like to dedicate the rest of this year of blogging (or coming back to blogging) to my new marriage, my new music, my new book and my new businesses. I want to share the wholeness of a woman who is discovering herself through the new love in her life and the newly founded love of herself.

I hope that it’s a journey you’d like to take with me.

Attract LOVE and HOPE,

–phoenix

New Year. New Woman.

I realize that I’ve allowed too many voices to have authority over the direction of my life. I’d like to try something a little different this year. I’d like to really spend more time listening to myself and determining what I really want void of the opinions of others. I spent almost all of last year distracted. I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to fit everyone into my schedule (which left little or no time for myself). The moment I do make time for myself, I find myself troubleshooting the attitudes of others because I’m not available to them.

I’m exhausted.

Last night, I had a panic attack that lasted almost an hour (complete with hysteria, tears, snot and thinking that I was going to have a heart attack) because I was consumed with worry about how angry everyone ELSE was going to be because I need to stay goal focused.

So,

For the first two months of this year, I’m cutting everyone OFF. Cell phone (OFF after I walk into my home each night), Computer (OFF after I leave the office and off after 11 at home), Social Life (OFF until I’m able to balance the newness of being in this great adventure of marriage with Tony along with everything else)…everything OFF.

God. Me. Family. Friends.

Pray. Go to the Gym. Plan this wedding.

Finish the album. Release the Book. Prep for the tour.

Finalize the performance festival. Work on WOWps and Poetically Speaking.

I’ve got too many projects in the works to be distracted. I have to make time for ME or I’ll be no good for anyone.

I’m already off to a good start. No phone calls, no drama, no distractions. And even though I miss some of my closest friends in this walk, I’m trusting that after all I’ve given, a moment to myself can be respected.

I’ve got to get myself together. My life and health are all out of sorts right now trying to be something to everyone else.

These are my declarations.

I invite the spirit of peace to come in. I also encourage each of you to take a deep breath and moment out for yourself. Being a little selfish (with yourself) is a gift.

Talk to yawl soon,

–phoenix

Tony and I moved on our decision to live healthier lives and joined Planet Fitness two miles up the road. We’d tried Lifetime Fitness, but it was just too many gorgeous folks in there. I felt like I was not only darkening their gym (it’s in Utica), but I also felt like my not particularly fit body didn’t fit into their cookie-cutter body mold. It was tough being in the locker room feeling extremely self-conscious. So, I gave up.

Planet Fitness boasts about being a judgement free zone. You know what? They really are! All kinds of bodies, all kinds of people (from the STAFF to the patrons) come and get their fitness on. It feels like a safe place to conquer my goals. We went boldly to the gym all this week and walked an hour a day on the treadmill. What I’ve learned is that I’ve been experiencing pain in places I didn’t even know I had! I thought that walking was only supposed to strengthen my legs and help tighten my belly. I later found out that it’s a full body workout. I’ve developed an awesome relationship with Advil (LOL).

Seriously, though? After each workout, I feel pain for about 20 minutes and then I get this incredible burst of energy after I finish stretching. To my Diabetic friends, I went on the first day and drank one of those Pom juices to spike my blood sugar. I worked out (without taking insulin) and when I returned my blood sugar was down 56 points! 56 points, yawl!! Normal, without needing to take insulin. I was able to lower my dose!! Talk about encouragement.

Each hour on that treadmill, I’m watching myself kick the shit out of this disease and reclaiming control of my life. I put together an hour long playlist to keep me motivated. When I first put it together, it was only to have an hour worth of songs I enjoyed so that I wouldn’t be bored with the gym music, but then I later found out that this music has been really motivating me!

My workout playlist (which is called: Work That Ass Off Biatch) in the order its played (and why):

1. Turn It Around – The Joe Smith Project

This is an awesome warm up song. It’s gospel (which I don’t generally listen to) and the words are so powerful. It speaks on how the Creator will turn my life around. “You don’t have to worry cuz I’m in control. And in my own time I’ll turn it around.” I’m instantly uplifted.

2. Purple Pull – Peter Hadar

Still in the warm up zone. Peter’s voice is incredibly soothing after a long day of work. This songs invokes escapism for me. I transport to another realm. Ty hates this cat’s album except for one or two songs. Ty and I don’t agree on everything!

3. Maybe Now – Clara Hill

Last of the warm up songs. Clara Hill is from Germany and she does house music. This song hit me hard on the last leg of the warm up. It made me truly consider how many times I’ve started something that I haven’t finished to completion. There are very FEW of those things, but they exist. Investing time in myself has been one of those things. Clara taunts me to get my shit together:

(Tomorrow, Today)
(Tomorrow, Today)
Maybe together
(Together Today)
(Together Tomorrow)
Maybe
(Together Today)
Maybe today
Today together
Maybe… Maybe
(Tomorrow together)
Now…

Maybe NOW!

4. Bet I – B.O.B.

I’m getting into an active work out, incline the level to 2 or 3 and speed it up to 3.0 (it’s the fastest I can walk without running). This song is ghetto as hell and I love it! It makes me feel all “swoll” (not swollen – SWOLL)! “Put me on anything, yeah, I Bet I buzz. Put me anywhere on the map, I bet I buzz. This is what I does, so please don’t gas me up. Matta-fact, give me fifteen minutes and a bag of bud, I Bet I buzz!” Ghetto Anthem, it keeps me hype.

5. Paperchase – Clara Hill

I’m feeling good at this point, I’m sweating and nearing the halfway point of the workout so I keep it going with this melodic house anthem. I often look to my right and smile at Tony when this song comes on (he’s usually sweating hard, too). “If I had my way, I’d be at home chilling with you instead of working every day. Make no mistake, I’d rather be chilling with you instead of being on a paperchase.” That song mimics my daily thought!

6. Tightrope – Janelle Monae & Big Boi

My lower back is starting to hurt and I’ve paused the treadmill for less than a minute to take a healthy swig of my Gatorade G Low-Cal. I press start again and Janelle’s video of this song is racing through my head because she’s literally dancing her ass off. She’s a petite sistah, like me. She’s just got the small bones and frame to move that quickly (and look that awesome in conservative clothing). Covet her body? Nah. But, desiring to have that kind of energy all day and desperately wanting to be that energetic when I take the stage? Absolutely! “No matter how high or low, you betta tip on the tightrope!”

7. Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas

I’m now at the halfway point. My heart rate is 154 which is in the 80% American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM) target heart rate range. To be in the fat burning range, you need to be at 65%. To be in the cardio heart rate range, you need to be in the 80% range. To get any results at all from your workout, target heart rate should be 55-90%. I’m doing good. I’m holding in my stomach and squeezing my gluts. I’m sweating, but still looking cute with my loc updo (compliments of Kalimah adn the PicNap Natural Hair Care Studio). Fergie is a workout goddess! She stays in the gym. Every time she says, “I’ve got the Boom Boom Pow,” I envision tight abs (Boom), lifted ass (Boom), banging ass legs (POW). Let’s go!

8. Ring-a-ling – Black Eyed Peas

I’ve been walking on this treadmill for over 30 minutes now. Am I still alive? Yep! The Black Eyed Peas are making me laugh at this point because they actually wrote a song about booty calls. WHAT? I’m walking at about 2.5 now and I’m feeling strong, back pain is numb, legs feel like liquid, the fan is blowing, Tony is sweating and I haven’t fallen off of the treadmill yet. I can still do it. 6 more songs to go. I’m tired. I can still do it. I’m tired.

9. Pretender – Foo Fighters

Nothing gets your mind right like Dave Grohl telling you that the reason why you’re on this treadmill to begin with is because you’ve been a Pretender. Pretending like I’m cool with being in the Big & Beautiful category. Pretending like I don’t know that the longer I contain this weight, the greater the risk is to my life. Pretending like I’m okay with still taking insulin shots (even if they are lower doses). Pretending like I have more energy than I do. Pretending like I’m not out of breath after long walks. Pretending like I’m just not interested in doing stuff when my bigger fear is that I’ll be pooped if I try it. “What if I say I’m not like the others? What if I say I’m not just another one of your plays? You’re the Pretender. What if I say I will never surrender?” I won’t surrender to pretending again.

10. Lovestoned/I Think She Knows Interlude – Justin Timberlake

I’m starting to slow down, I’m at 2.3 speed and Justin’s voice is just soothing to me at this point. I’m feeling the workout all over my body now and I pause for another swig of Gatorade and a reminder that I’m only 4 songs away to completion. I think this is stupid and I decide that I absolutely hate working out.

11. Green Light – John Legend & Andre 3000

I realize at this point that I actually hate being overweight and on insulin more than I hate working out. I punch the speed back up to 3.0 and imagine the video for this song. I like the way they dance in that video. It’s a party I would want to go to. I didn’t see too many fluffy sisters in there. I don’t have low self-esteem. I’m just saying that a flufflier sister might not be able to dance all night like the chicks in the video did. I wanna dance like that. I squeeze my abs and gluts a little tighter.

12. Single Ladies – Beyonce

I am not a Single Lady. I’m about to be a married lady. I am unashamed to admit to all of my conscious fam that I love Beyonce. I LOVE Beyonce. Her music uses 5th grade language. Who cares? Her voice is wonderful, she can dance and she went from being bootylicious to trimming down nicely. She’s probably rocking a dope size 10. I’m hoping for a healthy 12 or 14. More than anything, I want to wear a short dress with tall pumps that show off my great legs and abs and arms, IN THIS LIFETIME, not in my dreams. My man put a ring on it. I’m gonna look excited in my Dereon jeans real soon. I’m amped now. Tired, but amped. I mean, I’ve been on this thing 45 minutes now. Maybe I should just stop right now and applaud myself for living through this workout.

13. Go Baby – Lupe Fiasco featuring Gemstones

Lupe tells me that I can keep going in this hood anthem. Am I really only 1 song away from finishing this workout? Seriously? Lupe ignites me with the answer, “Go Baby, Woo Woo. Go Baby, Woo Woo!”

14. Streets on Fire – Lupe Fiasco

Streets on fire? Uhmmm, No. My ass is on fire, my legs hurt, I’m turning down the speed to 1.5 to begin the cool down, Tony is smiling, I’m frowning, I’m TIRED. I. DID. IT!! I spend that 4:38 calming down and getting my heart rate back into a normal range. A whole hour. The walk for my life. A whole hour. An investment in myself. A whole hour. The Alchemist is glowing the gold she is transforming herself into. A whole hour! GET IT, PHOE!

I am GOLDEN.

Transform yourself. Ignite yourself. Encourage YOURSELF.

Be Well,

~phoenix

Paulo Coelho wrote a book I love called The Alchemist. I’ve been referencing this book for at least a year now in my quest for self improvement. One of the things that I’ve been thinking a lot about is the fact that I’m a Type 2 Insulin Dependent Diabetic. I’m only 34 and have been battling this disease since 2004. While my numbers are coming back okay, the fact that I need medicine to keep my body functioning sent me into a wild panic the other day.

I know it’s been while since I’ve written anything. Bad phoenix. I’m going to begin to chronicle my road to recovery, the challenges, and the desires to want to self improve here.

My wedding is in 146 days and things are starting to come down to the wire. One of the things I’ve really taken into consideration is the fact that I don’t want the testimony that I waited 32 years to be connected to my husband only to die on him. I want his eyes to light up at the thought of maybe having children. I want our lives filled with travel and leisure and dreams and kingdom building. I don’t want frequent doctor’s visits, pill bottles, loss of limbs, lack of interest in sex and/or depression to be what I bring to our marriage.

So, I’m going to do what I gotta do. Step 1, join the gym 2 miles up the road and walk my way to freedom. Step 2, forgive my past choices and be thankful that they led me to where I am today. Step 3, truly fall in love with myself again and again and again.

Starting…NOW.

Be well,
~phoenix

Samantha Jones is a character!

Ty and I were having lunch the other day. We spent that time reaffirming our love for each other, playing catch up, forgiving each other – you know friendship, stuff. We then got into this conversation about marriage, relationships and Samantha Jones.

Oh, Samantha. You twenty-first century rock star. You “run these men how they run us” heroine. You character, you.

You’ve got all of these sisters out here believing that they can transform into you, Girl. They think that they can duplicate your crazy ass antics in real life and they can NOT.

I’m all into women’s lib and feminism and pro-woman. Really, Samantha, I am.

I’m into naughty acts in the bedroom and every now and again, Jade (my inner freak) wants to really go THERE. But, Samantha, most women are cut from a different cloth. Screwing every available man on a whim is not how a lot of us are built. I mean, we say it on the stages when we perform our poetry. We smoke Djarums and sip cosmos and throw caution to the wind like our sexuality and choices are badges of honor. We scream out to the masses how they are way too old school for us; how they don’t understand how absolutely liberating all of this sexual revolution is. But, Samantha, they forgot the one important note that you gave us through every season of Sex and the City: You weren’t looking for LOVE. You were looking for great sex.

Most of the sisters I know who profess this very laid back attitude about themselves, can’t deny the fact that they indeed ARE looking for love.

What would be an even better admission is that sometimes women who are so desperate for a love to call their own, make some really poor choices like:

Late night booty calls just so that the other side of the bed won’t be cold.

Giving up our bodies in the hopes that we have that “golden coochie” that’s going to make him see all of the other amazing qualities that we possess and finally, FINALLY make us HIS.

Oh sisters, I’m sharing with you the stuff I know. Like up close and personal. It led to so much grief and guilt and feelings of low self esteem and loss of self and self worth. I felt so empty after every escapade. I began to put so much information about myself out in the open on FIRST dates that it merely highlighted my desperation and fatigue with the entire love process. Brothas were either racing away from my company because I needed way more than they were willing to offer or they were hopping in and out of my bed and then racing off into the sunset.

Ty became so exhausted with the emotional highs and lows of these moments. I would share each horror story with him while crying over cocktails. He, exasperated, made the ultimate suggestion: S l o w down. Spend a little time alone with myself and end my search for “Mr Right” immediately.

I know what you thinking, you fabulous diva, you! If you spend one more moment alone with yourself, you’ll go mad. But, I promise you – you won’t.

Will it be hard? Yes.

Will there be moments when you cry or sit in disbelief at what appears to be loneliness? Yes.

Will you begin to discover the things that you like about yourself, hidden talents, and dreams and goals that have been shelved (that don’t include you chasing after a man)? Yes.

Will you randomly get invited to weddings and have to resist the urge to throw up in the lap of friends who douse you with their lovey dovey happiness? Yes.

But, if you pause, celebrate some of the happiness of others, relinquish the statistics that magazines fill your head with about the ratio of men to women and all of that other bullshit and just relish in the fact that goodness belongs to you – you will actually DRAW what you truly want to yourself.

One of my very close girlfriends has been sharing with me the power of visualization. I know it sounds all metaphysical and stuff, but just go with me. Do you know how incredible that gift is? Do you realize how so many of us don’t use that divine power inside of us? We’re so afraid of success; so afraid of actually getting EXACTLY what we want, that we mentally and spiritually block it from ourselves by settling.

Settling into miscellaneous jobs that don’t highlight our talent.

Settling with miscellaneous people who don’t add anything but their drama to our lives.

Settling for far less than what we’re worth, because we don’t take a real inventory on what we’re really worth.

Samantha makes everything seem so blase because Samantha is a fucking (excuse me) character with a script. Real life IS fabulous – but not that fabulous.

You still have to take a hot shower and purge out all of those brothers that are swimming around up in there and deal with YOURSELF.

If love is truly your heart’s desire, understand that love of self is not as automatic as you think. The same love that you want to pour into someone else, you have to – HAVE TO – pour into yourself.

Then you have to visualize what you want. Not WHO you want. But, what attributes you want in a partner.

And then, I dare you – No, I double dog dare you, to watch the universe bend to bring you exactly what you want and need!

I love yawl, and I’m sharing the very secret that worked for me!

With 249 days left to my wedding day, I’m signing off!

Yo Gurl,
~phoenix

Douche Bag

So, it’s probably going to take me another week to get over it. Although, admittedly everything in me wants this particular phase to be over now so that I can get on with the business of living a fabulous life.

I’ve got that “not-so-fresh” feeling regarding my wedding. It’s probably because I’m surrounded by douche bags.

When Tony and I first started this journey, I wanted to do one of two things: Elope with 17 friends witnessing our nuptials in the Dominican Republic or go down to the court house and get it over with. In my mind, there was no real need for a wedding because my husband-to-be is an incredible gift by himself. He wanted all of this. Not wanting to deny him anything, I agreed – only if it was a small event.

Something magical began to happen to me as I considered locations, dates, colors and themes. I was actually enjoying all of this “I’m gonna be a bride and plan a wedding” shit. It was kind of hectic, super emotional, but all good. I concluded that Tony was right – we absolute SHOULD HAVE a wedding.

I called my mother to share the news with her and she was as excited as a dead possum on the side of the road. She completely loves Tony, but she’s never been Clair Huxtable. The one thing from my mother that has been souring about the wedding is the fact that even with a one year notice, she’s still able to come up with reasons why she might not be able to fly/drive into Detroit to see her first born get married. Then when you add my stepfather into the mix it’s a whole ‘notha Oprah and incredibly painful.

Downer? It gets better. Yeah, right.

Between the two of us, Tony and I probably know or are related to a small country. The stress over our guest list is STILL an ongoing issue for us. We feel like there is no way that we shouldn’t invite such and such and so and so – which extends the list WAAAY too far. And takes away from small and intimate and sacred.

What’s worse is that folks that we haven’t seen or heard from or even know very well have already sat their rude asses in a seat to see how “phoenix” is gonna get it done. They completely push aside how sacred and very serious all of this is to me, to tell me OFF when I let them know that my budget and my desires for my day won’t allow for their presence – though I’d be thrilled to have them continue to be a part of my life. Attitudes and noses turned up like someone ate a pound of greens and farted so hard that they should’ve taken a dump. Incredibly painful and insensitive.

I thought this was supposed to be about me and Tony. I guess it’s truly about all of our family and friends who barely call to check on us or come and see us, but demand our time and attention when they are going through a crisis. Don’t I get to have one day where it’s not about me being your friend or relative, but it’s just about me? Shaun. Finally getting her due – happiness. How about the idea that I’m marrying a white cat that I couldn’t love more? Who thought that would ever happen?

Thank you for your fucking selflessness. I soooo appreciate you.

Oh, it gets so much better!

I’ve had two friends during the course of this journey blurt out (not tell me politely over the phone, or invite me out so that we could set a different tone and soften the blow) how they were hurt or offended or bothered or unnerved or whatever the fuck they were that they weren’t playing a starring role in the wedding. And let me say this, I totally get it. I completely understand where both of these folks were coming from considering how much they mean to me. What bothered me was two things: the way they both gave me the information and how they acted towards me when I was completely unaware that they’d been offended. Had the info been given to me a different way – trusting the strength of our relationship – I would have been more than willing to find alternatives or create alternatives or at least acknowledge their feelings and explain why I chose to plan my wedding the way that I did. Instead, I’ve been avoiding their phone calls and emails because I need a moment to recover from the blow and to remember that 1) we’re friends, 2) all of our feelings are valid, and 3)there’s a whole lot of life ahead of us to share. They’ll get over it and so will I. But, I’m not over it yet. I’m really, really pissed and seriously hurt.

All of this led to a lengthy conversation with my husband-to-be. I revisited the subject of an elopement to find out that he was all too ready to concede that it was a good idea. He’s been catching hell from his friends and family also. Douches.

Both of us shared battle scars on how we’re both stunned at how insensitive some folks are being about OUR day.

It should be an honor just to be there. Nothing more. We want you THERE for the biggest moment of our lives.

My friend, James said that we can’t be mad at the sense of entitlement that some folks feel towards us. We feel it towards them. James said what we should be salty about (if anything) is the timing of folks’ behavior. He acknowledged that he’s felt some kind of way about his other friends tying the knot, but he would never say it to them before they walked down the aisle and would only consider saying it at some point after the wedding. He looked at Tony with an apologetic smile and said, “There is just some shit you keep to yourself and never say to the bride. Weddings are stressful enough without the added stress of friends and family.” I couldn’t agree more.

I’ve bounced back a little, though. I’m stepping into forgiveness. Stepping – not all the way there yet. I’m still staring at the walls in disbelief thinking about the shit people feel comfortable saying to me.

Un-fucking-believable.

Yep, still stepping.

CLEARLY not there yet.

This mess has kept me up – like literally sobbing – for days and may have contributed to the bad reaction I got from my medicine this week. Crying over some shit that has NOTHING to do with why I’m getting married in the first place.

My baby sister and husband-to-be told me that I’ve spent more time putting out the fires of other people’s angst than I’ve actually put into planning my wedding that is only 8 months away. In my boy David Earle’s voice, “DREADFUL.”

Absolutely DREADFUL.

NO MORE.

Tony and I have decided that we’re not going to halt having the dream wedding that we want, but we ARE cutting the guest list completely in half. With all of the drama, we’ve been able to immediately decide who should be in attendance for our day and who really should not. I had a chance to try on some gowns with my girls, found one, had lunch, took pictures and went to a craft store dream of centerpieces.

That’s what I should be focusing on.
Centerpieces and dresses and my man’s face when he sees me radiant and happy to be marrying the most consistent person in my life right now.

I should be focusing on all types of girlie stuff like Henna and jewelry and to wear/not to wear heels.

I should be remembering that if no one shows up and if no one gets over themselves, that I’m building what’s looking to be an incredible new life with a man who I said “yes” to and who said “yes” to me.

When I think of those things, I feel a little less sour and a lot more like a bride. I remember that my friends and family actually love me. I remember that I love them.

When this whole ordeal blows over – I still will.

I just had to get this hurt and disappointment off of my chest. For a minute, my wedding experience was completely ruined. Then I thought about my husband-to-be and checked myself.

I’m gonna take this medicine, hope it doesn’t wear me out, and maybe get a real night’s sleep – even though it’s already after two in the morning.

Love yawl. Thanks for reading.

Soon-to-be-Mrs. Kotaran,

~phoenix

Green with Envy

When you’re in love with someone, you accept everything that comes with them.

The good.
The bad.
The ugly.
The baby momma.

Eh, poor English, but what can I say?

Before I came along and brought beauty to his life, Tony was previously married. The young woman had been a part of his life since they were children. They were best friends, grew up together, fell in love and eventually decided that marriage was a good choice for them. Later, Tony decided that marriage and family was an incredibly good choice for HIM, but that his wife had different ideas. From lying and cheating, to bamboozling him about the daughter he’d grown to love, to changing her sexual preference altogether, the uproot to Tony’s life and heart and perspective on marriage and honest relationships was in ruins. He never thought that he’d be divorced. He expected to grow old with someone, but the mistrust and downright sinister behavior of his now ex-wife closed him off for a while.

During our earlier dating stages, Tony shared with me that he believed the Creator heard his prayer when I came along into his life. He recalled standing at a bus stop, waiting to get home and being overcome with so much emotion about losing the life he thought he was building, that he cried out “Please, God. Just take this pain and burden from me!” About a year later, I showed up to his doorstep.

Since our connection, we’ve built an incredible and respectful life together. We’ve experienced traveling to other countries with friends, purchased vehicles, dreamed large, watched the universe conspire with us to make our dreams come true. Finally, we’ve decided to get married. Above all things, we’ve been richly blessed with a circle of friends that are open-minded, adventurous, excellent planners, travel junkies and AMBITIOUS. On any given week, I’m surrounded by folks that have activated the “Yes, I can and WILL” button in their lives. Tony and I have activated that button in our lives as well.

Now that all of that background subtext has been exposed (with permission), let me bring you up to speed. Let me briefly interject by saying that I think it’s incredibly important to share REAL LIFE, human stories with folks. Being a local figure, folks get the erroneous idea that my life is void of drama. Moreover, folks project their own insecurities on to me to make themselves feel better. No judgement. Just telling it like it is. I think there is a valuable lesson in sharing our personal and authentic experiences. It provides us all an opportunity to grow and see the humanity in each other.

Tangent over, here’s the story:

Tony and I spent quite a bit of time in prayer determining if we should file a paternity suit against the ex-wife so that he’d no longer have to pay child support on a daughter he truly loves, but who was visably NOT his child. We came to the decision that since he’d been in her life the entire 9 years, we’d pay the support and seek out visitation (the ex-wife kept Tony from his daughter for over 2 years, despite his active and painful pursuit to see her). The courts agreed and we were rewarded visitation every other weekend. The first 3 weekends have been incredible. Our daughter is a bright spot in a shadowed world. She is girlie and has a zeal and zest for life that’s infectious. She’s in tune with the world around her, with Guardian spirits. She is a dreamer with a smile that melts the stoniest hearts. She is madly in love with her Father and was thrilled to be reconnected with him.

We’ve exposed our daughter to many facsinating things and people. Culture and community. Beach dates and positive-energied folks. Poetry and music. Things that her mother has not had the opportunity or, in some cases, inclination to provide. Make no mistake about it, I’m not being rude or malicious. Our daughter’s mother has done a fabulous job raising her. But, she (the ex-wife), lacks ambition from anything other than hood shit. Some of that is upbringing. However, Tony speaks often of how he wanted to expose his ex-wife to the world and he often found his dreams crushed/told they were too lofty/told they were rich-folks dreams to the point that he’d stopped dreaming for a minute. Anyway, our daughter has been so excited about these rich new experiences that she runs home every other weekend to share these stories with her mother and her partner. Beautiful, right?

We thought so.

Glad we don’t get paid to think.

The ex-wife/baby momma has become so envious of the life that we’re exposing our daughter to that she literally calls to cuss Tony out about it. Words, like daggers, dig into him as she spews her hatred of him because he “thinks he’s better than her.” “You want to buy her stuff? Buy your child everything.” “You want visitation? Let me inconvenience your entire schedule so that you can feel what I feel.”

No lie, we’d love to spend more time with our daughter. We love the ground she walks on. However, all four adults (Tony & me; The ex-wife and her girlfriend) need to get an honest and working schedule going when visits are going to be extended. The ex-wife is blurred by envy and lack of ambition. She’s refused (wish I had that luxury) to get a job or to further her education. While married to Tony, she TOLD him she wasn’t going to work; that she wanted to be a stay at home mother. My question is this: How can you be a stay at home momma in the hood? Further, how can you be a stay at home momma with no diploma or degree or skills? Is that what you want for yourself? Why waste the energy being angry with Tony for seeking to improve his quality of life, and being noble enough to raise a child that is NOT his seed, instead of getting up, getting out and doing something with your own life?

The harbored resentment that she has because Tony upgraded to the Phoenix model, has now got us wondering why we ever even agreed to this. My husband-to-be is pained with the idea that doing the noble thing may not always be the right thing and I am left wondering why folks are cool with mediocrity.

The one Kryptonite for me is the notion of being ordinary. It brings bile to my throat. It makes me start to shapeshift. It drives me insane.

I won’t judge the ex-wife for being cool with being envious, for lacking ambition, for being a stereotypical baby momma. I will say that there is a precious 9 year old girl who has the opportunity to lead an advantaged life that is caught in the crossfire of all of that drama.

The one prayer the ex-wife had was to get some relief. Tony and I came bearing gifts. The ex-wife had NOTHING and ridicules and rips our gifts to shreds. The child suffers.

Somebody needs to be praying.

Grown folks need to stop counting their disappointments and learn that every time we wake up on this side of life, that we’re being given an opportnity to change and do better. Change and do better. Don’t hate. Don’t stop the children from getting exposed to better. Want more and better for the future leaders than what you had growing up. Pursue better than what you had to make your parents proud.

More importantly, Sis – stop hurting the folks that want to provide you with the very relief that you need.

Grow up, folks if you are also falling into this riculous pattern.

That’s all I’ve got to say about that.

Yo Gurl,

~phoenix