NOBODY SAYS CAUCASIAN AMERICAN!

Don’t call me African American.

In the 70’s, we were Blacks

in the 50’s, we were Negros

Before that, we were coloreds.

You do not get to call me what the fuck you want to every 20 years to duck political loopholes. LET ME MAKE THIS CLEAR, I WILL NOT CHECK THE BOX!

When my daughter was born, they didn’t even bother to ask her race they simply put on her paperwork what they saw. Same thing they did with the Natives back in the day. Mark them as Negro or Mulato or Mullato, depending on who wrote it. It had many different spellings on my families’ paperwork. Then, don’t have to pay them reparations. I think it’s really sick that “the powers that be” can change people’s identities to what they would like it to be anytime it benefits them. My people are from North Carolina dating back to the 1700’s.  Guess the fuck what, I am MORE AMERICAN than those fuckers who want to change my people’s identity! They associate with their identities and where their people migrated from. Then they try to feed us this shit that everyone here was from somewhere else. A lot of people can’t find their family history because they are looking for African Roots when in fact, their roots started RIGHT HERE!

Immigration has always been a beautiful thing, as long as your skin is white. For our Brown immigrants from the beginning of time, it’s been nothing but hell. We have the power to change this and the boxes they want us to check if we start thinking, speaking up and voting. Give America the hell they been giving us for years. This time through contracts, lawsuits and paperwork. Hit them in their pockets. MONEY is all they respect!

PROOF SISTAS: MEN ARE STILL ROMANTIC, YOU JUST HAVE TO SEE IT

A beautiful gift written for me from a man I will anonymously call “LOVE”
She’s Music 🎶
She’s your mental soliloquy.
Your daily symphony.
She’s on repeat the whole day long.
She’s the melody that rides the groove.
Her kisses reminding you of love being sure and smooth.
She rocks you with zeal until your long gone.
She’s the hip-hop to your trap.
Her body finely wrapped in measured colors only God, Himself can do yet so true.
She’s your gospel and your song.
She’s the love you need to right your wrongs.
That is just what she do.
Kiss 😚 her lips 👄 4 times consistently.
Find her truth in the purest of intimacies.
So she knows you played her heart’s ♥️ serenade.
Bring peace with your mental jazz.
Make sure to play her mind,body and soul with truth and fact.
So she can taste your love’s lemonade.
Be aware of every note.
Listen to her speak from her inner dope.
Become addicted to her MUSIC. 🎶
She’s Music 🎶

 

REFLECTING ON A FACEBOOK MEMORY

My goal this week is to be a better me than I was last week! My understanding of self has elevated to another level. The more I distance myself from distraction the more I personally prosper spiritually and financially. At the end of the day no matter how anyone else feels as long as I am a good person and kind to everyone me meeting my goals and my loved one’s health is all that matters. I’m doing something I haven’t done in years…I sleep well at night now because I have learned how to let other people’s problems be just that OTHER PEOPLE’S PROBLEMS. My captain save a hoe cape is officially retired

364 days after I wrote this post, I birthed my 1st daughter. I was transitioning internally! It’s okay to change. It’s okay for life as you knew it to change. Transition can be a beautiful thing if u allow yourself to see beautiful in it. Confirmation that I am right where I need to be.

SALES EXCITE ME

Have you ever gone to the store and bought some shit just because it was on sale? I admit it, I have issues. Sales excite me, buy one get one free excites me even more. I’m not ashamed to say I don’t even care what it is. If it’s buy one get one free, I’m probably gonna buy it. If it’s not something that I can use, I don’t care. I have a family or friend who can use it.  I once bought matching hammers because they were buy one get one free. I handed it to my older brother and he just looked at me and laughed. When he called me back two weeks later and said he thought that hammer worked great, it sounds silly but it brought me joy. When I was a child, Kmart was my favorite store in the world and that’s because they had buy one get one free. Don’t forget to get excited about the little things in life because when you look back memories are all we have so I always make the best ones even if it’s just shopping a sale!

SO, I’M AN INTROVERT. I’M NOT BORED OR SAD. THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!

Yes, I am happiest alone and tend to shy away from people as much as I can.  As I grow older, I realize it’s because I am somewhat of an empath. Energy transfers and a lot of y’all have fucked up energy! Even many that I love have horrible energy and I have no desire to feel it. Even when you’re not complaining, the fact that you’re not happy in life weighs heavy on a empath’s heart.

I used 2 be the type who helped everyone and was somewhat of a fixer. If I could fix your issues, your self-esteem or help you pay your bills, I would but that shit is emotionally and financially draining. I’m over it and have divorced that part of my former self. In result, I also divorced many friendships willingly.

Now, I enjoy my peace. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you…but if you can’t share my space often, it might mean your energy just drains me. Have you ever gotten off the phone with someone and you all of a sudden were physically tired and depressed, but right before the call you were happy and energetic? I don’t mean a call that delivered bad news or a death but a regular call from the homie? That means energy transferred now you are carrying their vibe with you, until you shake it off or transfer it back to someone else. I hate that feeling. I no longer wish to take on other people’s emotions. By myself, I’m chill with no drama. Except my drama of motherhood but that’s my entertainment!

I have friends who think they are being sweet, but they get on my nerves tryna force me to be positioned in social situations. I try to explain it to them, but they don’t get it. I don’t need more friends, I don’t want nobody else calling my phone, I aint tryna hang out. I’m tryna chill at Chuck E Cheese, not a bar, a social gathering, or anywhere with these grown folks. I could be doing something with my kid! I’ve spent my entire life being social. I literally want to spend some time being left alone. I don’t see why that’s so hard to understand.

My whole point in writing this was to say preserve your mental health by guarding the energy you allow to share your personal space.

THE BEGINNING (WHAT HAPPENED WHEN A GOAT BULLIED ME)

In 1975, the Steelers won the Super Bowl 16-6 beating the Minnesota Vikings and Arthur Ashe won Wimbledon. Microsoft became a registered trademark of the Microsoft Corp. The Vietnam War ended, and a loaf of bread was $0.33. The unemployment rate was 5.6% and I was born that November.

I always knew I was different.  You see, in 1977 my mother and I got an official police escort out of the Pittsburgh Zoo. My mom thought it would be fun to take me to the petting zoo. I thought it smelled gross and there was a pesky goat that kept nipping at my shoestrings and that annoyed me to no end. I have always had a shoe fetish and didn’t appreciate that dirty little goat messing up my brand new, fresh blue suede Adidas. First, I yelled at it to stop then pushed it off of me. When the goat persisted in eating my shoelace for lunch, I did what l was taught to do, protect me and mine. I pulled my fist back as far as I could and gave it to the goat right in the dome piece. That’s right! I hit that goat as hard as I could right in the face. When I looked down, I was so upset that my shoelace was all tattered and unraveled that I felt like the goat needed to learn a lesson. I guess I went a little overboard because before I knew it, I was being picked up and kicked out. How embarrassing for my mother. I wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed. In fact, I was ready to leave because the hot dogs were nasty, it smelled bad, and the popcorn was cold. Also, I had another funny story to go home and tell my brother, Mark and my granddaddy. I skipped all the way out of the zoo while I reassured my mother that we really didn’t want to be at that stinky place anyway. She just laughed while 6 men followed behind us like we needed them to show us where the exit gate was.

Now that I am older, it’s hysterical looking back and realizing that my first real fight was with a goat. Who does that? But that fight was my foundation and stands for so much more than just a tussle over my shoestrings. Fighting is all I know. I have no problem fighting when my personal space is disrespected. I have no problem fighting for things I want. Don’t get wrong, I am not a bully nor do I cause any problems. But if you get in my way, you better watch yourself because we’ve got problems.  Fortunately, you won’t have to watch your back because I will let you know to your face that you are about to get punched in the nose! I believe in giving a warning before I cause destruction. SMH. Sorry, Momma I was hell on wheels, and you are right, I am getting it all back though my daughter! LOL.

AM I THE STRANGE ONE IN WAL-MART?

Okay, so growing up we didn’t have Wal-Mart in Southern California! Wal-Mart in my area in California opened in 2014 and there were none within 20 miles of my neighborhood so it’s still an exciting thing for me every time I go. Where I live now there is a Wal-Mart every 5 miles or so.

I’ve never had a wild time in Wal-Mart just like I’ve never had a wild time in Vegas. I don’t get it. I always see these strange Wal-Mart encounters on the internet. People doing rap videos, folks in their pajamas, just strange shit. As I’m walking down the aisles today it dawned on me, “Cherie, maybe you’re the strange one in Wal-Mart.” I looked down and I had on a summer dress and flip flops. I don’t think I look weird but who knows. I looked around at everyone else and laughed, they all look normal to me. I asked my daughter, “Babe, have you ever seen strange things while we are here?” She pointed and said, “Mom look. If you buy that you don’t have to work so hard to put icing on a cupcake. Cute, it’s only a dollar.” I laughed and in the cart it went. Yup, it’s probably me…Wal-Mart is like Disneyland. I run in for 1 little thing that I usually forget and come out with 60 other things I didn’t need and because I forgot toilet paper, I am back in there tomorrow to get 60 more things, smh.

Maybe I better watch what I ask for, huh? Cuz manifestation in my life is real. Please share with me your wild Walmart stories.

I CAN’T WRITE ON DEMAND

Yes, I love to write. It’s my favorite relaxation tool but the truth is…I can’t write on demand. I need to have inspiration and be motivated. Writer’s block is real, especially when other people try to give me subjects to write about and the pay isn’t according to my motivation.

I find my words flow easier in the middle of the night or early in the morning when everyone else is asleep. From what I’ve learned, this seems to be true for most creative beings and that’s why the 9-5 thing never works for us. It’s all about energy. Energy transfers and when others are awake, I think the energy is high, so it suppresses our true creativity. But when everyone else is asleep, we no longer are carrying the burden of others’ energy and the ambiance of creativity is abundantly ours to do what we want.

So, if you are having trouble finishing up a piece you have thought about writing for a while now, don’t be so hard on yourself. Create a space that’s all yours at a time when others’ energy has a low impact on your creativity. Spend some time day dreaming about the piece and how you want it to go. Don’t try to write it just then, just think. Sleep on it. Even if you go to bed at your normal time and set your alarm for 4:30 a.m., waking up just a little earlier than usual. You may be surprised what you are able to accomplish with just a few extra hours added onto your day. Watch the words flow…

Happy Writing!

I FAIL A LOT!

I fail a lot, but it doesn’t mean I give up! Sure, it can be discouraging but I have 2 choices.

  1. Sit around and feel sorry for myself.
  2. Get my ass up and try harder. I do not mind hard work.

1 thing entertainment taught me is to get back up. See statistics say you get 1 job outa 100 auditions. So, the world never gets to see all the no’s, the failures or the hard work, all they see are your victories! Sure, the victories are cool, but they are not what builds the character. I can’t even count how many times I have failed but I can count my wins!

As an actor I have 42 credits, 12 producer credits, 2 writer credits, 5 casting department credits and 20 TV appearance credits as myself. Not too shabby for 36 years.

Also, the failed businesses… I started a shoe line…it was cute but short lived. I opened a restaurant. Yeah, pretty much the same story. Cute ideas, neither were my ideas or my passions but I tried it. It didn’t make me any money, both actually cost me money, but they taught me great lessons! I went into business with people who had ideas but lacked passion. I have passion so I became engulfed with how to make their visions work. See you can’t want more for others than they want for themselves, it’s a waste of your time and energy. For me, it was a waste of my name and a brand I built without them. So, when the businesses failed, I was the one who took the ” L”. And that’s okay because I tried. If I never tried, I would have never learned. Never let anyone use your brand when they are lacking passion. If it’s their idea, they need to be bringing more to the table than you and working twice as hard.

The people who are most successful at business are those who are passionate about it.

Find your passion and never be afraid to fail.

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SOMETIMES I WONDER WHY MY DAUGHTER WAS BORN WITH NEGOTIATION SKILLS

School was not my thing. Kindergarten was a total drag. I didn’t understand why I had to sit in class for hours while people learned their ABCs and to count.  It all seemed like a major waste of my time. At 6 years old, I thought I had better things to do. My teacher got on my nerves. I remember this one time she wanted me to color Christopher Columbus and I refused. I thought it was stupid to spend all day talking about a man who supposedly discovered unknown land. You can’t discover anyplace where there were already people there. I chose to spend my coloring time with my head on my desk. My Grandma taught me about Native Americans, and how they were the first people here. I wasn’t about to participate in a celebration that honored the man who instigated the genocide of the indigenous peoples of North America. I got a chance to explain my view to the class and my teacher. Instead of my teacher respectfully challenging my views, all she said was, “Just color it,” in a stern tone.

I remember thinking to myself, “Talking to me like that is no way to get what you want from me.” I shut down completely. I pushed the paper to the side of my desk and put my head down. I wasn’t disruptive or rude, but I was frustrated and angry that she was teaching 16 young minds distorted facts. I mean, I had to be in that place 5 hours a day. And for what, to learn the wrong stuff?  At that moment, I didn’t care how my teacher felt, and I doubt she cared how I felt. I knew I wasn’t going to color because I didn’t want to. But I was even more peeved that she sent me home with a note.

I locked myself in the bathroom while my mother read the note. I was too scared to come out. She spoke to me through the door for a while until I felt comfortable enough to come out. When I got out, she sat me down at the kitchen table and asked me again if I wanted to color the paper the teacher sent home or get a bad grade. I told her, “Mommy, I just can’t do it. I don’t believe in it.” She said “Well, you’re never supposed to do anything you don’t believe in.” She kissed me on my head and got up out of her chair, while she was pushing it in, I said, “Mommy, I don’t want to do the Pledge of Allegiance.” “What’s wrong with the Pledge of Allegiance, Cherie?” she asked. “It’s just lame, Mommy. We are not one nation under God. If we were, people wouldn’t kill people and hurt children. I believe in God, Mom, but everyone doesn’t.” She just looked and me then finally said, “No, Cherie you do not have to say it, but you have to stand up with the rest of the class, ok.” “Ok, Mommy but I’m not putting my hand over my heart either.” “Fine, Cherie,” she said as she walked away to make dinner. I felt like I won! That is the earliest memory I have of negotiating.

Maybe some things are in your genes….