Sweat, Bruises and Sand, an Unexpected Weekend

I had a list of things I wanted to do this weekend, ask me if  I did any of it.

There was a huge flower festival, a concert featuring Ginuwine, Kid n Play, Mack Wild and DJ Camilo that I was eager to see. That did not happen. Not even a little bit.

Sometimes the things you don’t plan,end up being greater than you expected. This weekend was  both great and terrible, all at the same time.

Let’s begin with Friday, After spending an evening listening to poetry, trying to do my best to bond with someone I truly care about. I came to the realization, that maybe I just need to stop forcing things. The universe throws signs at us in many different ways, ways that we tend to ignore. That day just happened to be my wake up call, if something is meant to happen, it takes more than one person to make it work. I just walked away, as much I knew I didn’t want to, I had to.
Time for me.

Saturday was a little better, that turned into way better. My not so baby cousin is 21 now. That only means he can do everything he was already doing, legally. Raymond and I are close, though we don’t get to spend much time together, he’s one of my favorite people to hug.
Instead of taking public transportation I decide that a 35 minute bike ride wasn’t that bad. It was about 10pm and I’ll admit, I was a little scared biking around some areas. Especially when men want to whistle at you, screaming “oooh, can I get ride?” I’ve even had a ” damn mami, how much?”
Sorry buddy, not for sale, and I’m not talking about the bike. I had a little detour on the count that I got lost. Keeping my phone, that acts like a GPS in my pocket isn’t very convenient. (I just purchased a a handle bar phone holder..much needed!)
I stopped by Titi Margaret’s house and caught up on bochinche. I miss my godmother, I have to remember to make more time for her. Especially since now I know how to get there on my 2 little wheels.
The party was loud, in a basement, that have me flashbacks from when I was in high school and friends used to throw hooky parties. The fact that everyone was younger helped that feeling as well. Non the less. I poured myself a drink and started to dance. To my surprise my baby cousin Denise was in town for the weekend. She came all the way from Massachusetts to spend time with Raymond on his day. So sweet. She was looking at beautiful as ever, and I couldn’t help but to tell her, that every single time she posts a new picture online, she resembles her late sister Jasmine, more and more.

We danced the night away, along with sweating the night away. That space felt like a sweat box, everyone was dripping, dancing, removing clothed little by little. Even my brother Kiki and Taimane came to show love. They were sitting most of the time and still managed to break a sweat. They made my night when they told me they want me to be the baby’s godmother. I wanted to cry! It’s all I seem to think about now.
I danced until I couldn’t dance any longer. By 3am the last song was played and everyone started to leave. The floor full of grit and black water. That’s going to be fun to clean up.
Alberto decided to hang around and be amazing with us. We were all sleeping over a Raymond’s, and everyone was either drunk, tipsy or had some form of hype in their system. They set up the hookah, and we kept cracking up at all the snaps from the night. All the twerking, kareoking, sipping, ratchetness that happened throughout the night.
Sunday, my plans for that concert were out the window. We were going to make it a beach day, but first we all had a few errands to run, especially since most of us didn’t plan on spending the night, and little old me had my bike. We headed to my house, Alberto, Denise and I. I was their map letting them know which bus to take where, while I rode home. It’s only a 15 minutes bike ride, something that’s light work compared to how much I can actually bike.

At an instance, all I felt was a car leaning towards the right hand side, where I was riding push me off and slam me into a parked car. I fell hard. The left side of my body was in pain, my bicycle flat on the floor underneath the parked car. I tried to wiggle it out but the rim was tucked into the car’s tire. The white Nissan slowed down, whoever was inside was obviously debating if they should stop. When it did, it took longer for someone to even come out. He didn’t even say a word, I asked him his name and he went in full defense mode. He didn’t even ask if I was okay. I’m up, there’s no sign of anything teared or scraped. Again, I ask him his name and I get nothing. If he doesn’t want to tell me, I’ll find out another way. I start taking pictures of his license plate, the registration on his window and he’s screaming “so call the cops then”
How ignorant. How unsympathetic. Reminded me of someone else I know… is that just all men?
I didn’t want to get the cops involved, I think i was fine, I felt a bruise forming on my left butt check, my right elbow throbbing, and a scrape burning on my right calf. I think I was okay, brushed up my okay… he starts screaming at me, “you didn’t fall, what do you want to do then,call the cops!” I’m telling him, without raising my voice, “I did fall, I fell hard, you can’t see it, but I’m in pain.” “You didn’t fall he says”
How can someone else tell you what you’re feeling, what happened to you or didn’t happen to you? Reminds me of another man of a dilemma I know.
I practically had to beg for an apology, that’s all I wanted. He wouldn’t give it to me. Another guy across the street comes over and asks me if I’m okay, I say yes I guess, but I’m hurting. Guy number 2 hears all the screaming Guy who hit me is saying and corrects him. “She did fall, I saw her, you hit her.” Only then is when he apologized.
Why does it take an outside person to validate what should of happened naturally? I tell him, I’m a human being, I know you’re scared, but look at the bigger picture. You didn’t see me fall but that doesn’t mean I didn’t. Just because I’m not bleeding, it doesn’t mean I’m not hurt. It did hurt. Badly.

What is it with men? The lack of communication and empathy. I’m sick of it.I trooped it home anyway. I had way too much adrenaline in my system, alongside a huge bruise on my ass. We had plans to head to the beach and how could I disappoint? I threw on my bathing suit, at least the ones I have left at home. Seems like they’re all disappearing  now a days. The trip to Far Rockaway was a little longer than expected. I’ve actually never gone by train before, I tried once a long time ago and got terribly lost. This time I found my way, even with a dying phone.

Raymond and friends were already on the sand. Some were making out, some were sipping on drinks. Denise and  I jumped into the water as soon as we got there. My curls needed some salt water. I just love how they look when it’s drench in it. D was telling me that I can actually buy salt water for my hair in beauty supplies stores. I never knew that. I’m sure it should probably be used in moderation. I don’t need my hair falling out.

We stayed the whole night at the beach, and let me tell you, the stars were beautiful. So much is going on with me right now, and it was the perfect time for me to relax and just take it all in. I have a lot of decisions to make soon and I don’t even know where to begin.

Hanging out with my two baby cousins (who are now full grown!) was way too much fun. I’ve been trying to convince Denise to spend more time in New York, now that she’s on break from college. Let’s see if it works.

As for now, it’s time for a long ride back home, and for me to soak in a nice hot bath. My body is too sore from that hit.love, m