that has really affected me....
like for real for real...
it was the blog of a friend...younger than I am...
who has done in her life all the things ive wanted to do...
and i realize that I've lived my life.....guided by Fear..
Not the irrational kind..
Ive done the right reasonable things based on careful painstaking THOUGHT!
decisions thought through to the very end....to make the best rational decision.
Theres nothing wrong with that...
but Ive denied myself...the opportunity to do EXACTLY what i want...
there's always been a reason to NOT be the emotional, do things on a fancy part of my self...
In fact the last thing i did on a whim was pierce my navel umpteen years ago...
In light of the economy and all the other things up in the air in this life...
this is probably not the best time...to give care to the wind...
and live the life not planned...
Ive been relying on JUST myself for so long...that I felt that I had to be consistent to make sure that I...me Clivia....would be my own safety net..
Cause LORD knows...i cant count on anyone else...
i still feel like that...

So I've been thinking through my worst case scenarios recently.....
and....

Listen to what it is...
I would go back home to Tobago...to live...get this...with my parents ...who are the coolest ever. I would start dancing again, and pan...and writing. Help my mom with her event planning business. Go with my dad to dj at events, go the beach, re-connect with my best friends. Be a part of my sister's life and have a real relationship with my nieces and nephews.


WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???

No really?
that's the WORST CASE!!!

really?

it's obliterated my fear....OBLITERATED!

a fearless Clivia is Entirely Powerful....

I love it.

I let people steal my energy...
I submit....and don't even realize that I'm doing it?
The very thing...that drew them to me....i give over cause I believe i should compromise for those i love.

FUCK

THAT

SHIT!!

I'm pretty awesome.....i'm not being cocky...lol. I am ...:)

and loving you doesn't mean I let you treat me like I'm way LESS awesome than I am...:)

I carry you in my heart,

genuine laughter, straight from the soul and carried by the belly,
the smell of clean washed earth by rain as mysterious as the sunshine it conquered,
the imagery of pouii, strong and stately, the harbinger of days indoors, and imagined stories come full to life…
I carry you in my skin,
the KNOWING of where I am,
To be known, to be connected eternally, organically,
i remember you in my smile, my very voice..
a call to the altar of remembrance,
i hope it shines from me , shines like a warm tropical light…
i hope it floats from me…
like a perfume, identifying me…and claiming others,
I miss you today„,
I feel you on my skin
Ill see you soon …
Tobago..

Can somebody play some parang??? SomeSignal Hill Alumni..."christmas coming yeah yeah yeah yeahhhh yeahhhhhhh "....

Im longing to hear bamboo bursting in the cool afternoons...When the days cleaning would finally slow down and the smell of lemon pledge and wood varnish would float out on the night air...

Im longing to smell fresh bread baking in the mornings...and see loaves of bread and sweetbread covered with towels and cooling on the counter. The days when pans of fruit sit soaking in rum....when the press for the pastels become the most prized possession and a day is dedicated to oiling it just right.... When the big decisions become...Olives or no...??

Im longing to walk into the market and smell the apples and grapes and pears on sale and KNOW...yes its Christmas in Trinidad... With vendors harassing you to buy their wares....when one just down the street would be selling the same thing...

I want to hear the box base and guitars playing in the neighbours house and know that soon it will be our turn to be the host.....When the rum in abundance in the cupboard will emerge...and the bucket of ice filled and the nuts and walnuts laid out....Its not Christmas without the cheese snacks for the kids...and the black cake for the adults.

OOOh that black cake....the recipes guarded like a honored possession...where sisters can tell the difference in who made the "batch" that were eating now....

I want to smell the ham baking in the oven...where children and adults alike keep turning the light on to peep at the skin...caramelizing in the oven...knowing that still there would be a wait while it cooled....but hoping that you were lucky enough to be around for the sample...

Can you remember the batter?? The left over goodness from the cakes?? who cared that the ingredients were raw?? The vanilla essence in that creamy batter was more than enough. Who can forget the smell of varnish and lemon pledge everywhere, the smell of fresh paint and linens brought out and left in the sun ....so that the very smell of them was island warmth. 

This is the time of polishing silverware, or removing louvres, and cleaning cabinets. This was the time of lime on the cement outside the house, of polishing mahogany until you could see your face in it...Chores were aplenty...but it also meant opportunities to be good were too....

Press Play

I get Homesick..often

In spite of the horror stories I read and hear about in Trinidad..

because as always Being home is a colored memory for me that may not always tie into the REALITY

I rely on my bloggers living in Trinidad to reconcile the Rose Colored Memory with the TRUTH of life at home..

But still i know in part that I live in illusion...

But some days I almost cry,

There is vice and evil everywhere..

Why not be in a place that requires no explanation of my needs and loves,

Of what is innate to me..?

That i can find joy in Just hearing a voice speak in a tone or say a phrase that can make my spirit warm ...?

Still some days I cry...

I miss the sounds of rain...

Somehow its different at home

I miss the smell of a temporarily clean world after the rain..

I love to hear men call out to each other in passing..

and unlike the sisters that Live there now..

I miss the little hail up from a random man in the street...

In our trini cadence...

"Ey Sweetness...."

[they might not be saying that now]

But Rudder Helps...in particular today

Song for a Lonely Soul...[how apropos]

Song For a Lonely Soul

Soca music take me back to my island [x 4]

Oh how I long for island breezes and to see..

My woman roll like a steel drum solo ringing through a calypso night

Don’t get me wrong, this big city really made a man of me

But a concrete jungle drum can’t play no calypso

No no no

Soca music take me back to my island.

A mind excursion it can take me

To a far off country road

Sticky mango juice, running down my naked chest

And sturdy people who can still smile a mile into their pain

Put their shoulders to the wheel

And their Gods will do the rest

And in the end, they will pass the test

Soca music take me back to my island.

Trinity mountains, Trinity mountains calling me home

Making me high, calling me home, making me high

Sing a soca melody, you can sing it and be free

Sing a happy soca melody my friend, sing a soca melody

You can sing it and be free

And in this freedom, there will be no end

Soca music take me back to my island.

In particular for me...

growing up in Tobago, Signal Hill Alumni Choir was a pride and joy

To hear them sing , all genres, was a pore raising, awe inspiring , pride inducing thing.

My Mom worked with them when I was growing up...so I got to see the inner workings of the choir. Rehearsal was a treat..I would sit on the floor of the stage while they surrounded the piano..and John Arnold the director then would piece together the Complex melodies..and then the MOVES! Perfect! 

I was lucky to perform with them , either in joint productions with my steelband, or with the dance company [Children's Academy of Dance...now TAPA and the now defunct NDTC] or representing Tobago in the Inter Island Cultural Shows..[haha..i remember dancing in a number, changing to play pan, and then changing back to go dance again..anyways ah Rambling..lol...follow the ramble]

The chorus behind Rudder is ALWAYS the Alumni Choir...regardless of who it really is..i think I heard them do this song once...it brought me to Tears..[I cry too damn much .maybe cause I'm Pisces..hahaha]. I see faces I know..and know me..And the music just seems Elevated here..

Anyways...Rudder
Ever Rudder..
More than Music and Melody..
Its like a Psalm..
Cooling to the senses..
He refers DIRECTLY to me..
Reverence to all the things that make MY Existence important and beautiful, My TRIN-BAGONIAN existence..
Thank you Rudder..
You restore me..


----------------
Now playing: David Rudder - Song for a Lonely Soul
via FoxyTunes

its just coincidence and happen stance?
glass and mirrors...
flash no substance...??
what does that make me?

ive been tagged,.,,,

1) Mention the name of the blogger who tagged you - its a private blog...sorry guys so i cant
2) List 6 things people won’t know about you when they first meet you. So in other words 6 secrets.
3) Tag 3 more bloggers!

OK so let’s start ..

1) __________ tagged me! :D

2) Six things people don’t know about me .. hmmm:

- I hate taking pictures. It started since I was 2. My eyes are always closed. Maybe I'm trying to stop the camera from stealing my soul...

- My smile doesn't mean i like you...or I'm happy...or I agree... I have six million variations of a smile...but its still my first reaction to most things...

- I can't ride a bike. Daddy never took of the training wheels. It's not my fault.

- I'm afraid of midgets. Serious. DON'T JUDGE ME!! I know im four foot nine Dammit!!!

- I read three books at a time....almost every day..

- I can sing....but I don't anymore...only in the shower.

- I’m not attracted to short men. The Taller the guy...the hotter he is..

done.
SOOOOOOOOOOO.....now im tagging..Sweet 7, Chatty Patty and Nicky Nix...
[disclaimer- they dont have to respond....:)]

An Email IN my INBOX, NON JUNK... Addressed to me..heading...I've Been Trying to Reach You

I have been waiting for you since to contact me for your Confirmable Bank Draft of $850,000 United States Dollars, but I did not hear from you since for a couple of weeks now. Then I went to the bank to confirm if the draft has expired or getting near to the date of expire and Dr.Wilson the Director Bank of Africa told me that before the draft will get to your hand that it will expire.

So I told him to cash the $850,000 USD UNITED STATES DOLLARS to cash payment to avoid losing this funds under expiration as I will be out of the country for a 3 Months Course and I will not come back till ending of November 2008.

What you have to do now is to contact FEDEX COURIER COMPANY as soon as possible to know when they will deliver your Consignment to you because of the expiring date. For your information, I have paid for the delivering Charge, Insurance premium.

The only money you will send to the Fedex Courier Company to deliver your Consignment direct to your postal Address in your country is ($290 .00 USD) Three Hundred United States Dollars only being Security Keeping Fee of the Courier Company so far.Again, don't be deceived by anybody to pay any other money except $290 .00 US Dollars.

I would have paid that but they said no because they don't know when you will contact them and in case of demurrage. You have to contact Trans FedEx Courier Company Servecis now, for the delivery of your Draft with this information bellow;

1Your Full Name:
2, Your Delivery Address:
3, Your Cell Phone Number:
4,Your Age:
5,Your Country:
6,Your OCUPATION:
7,Your Sex:

Directors Name: Chika Nwachukwu

Companys Name: FEDEX Courier Company

Cell : +234-805-996-9221 or 011-234-805-996-9221

Email Address: fedex.courier@sbcglobal.net

Finally, make sure that you reconfirm your Postal address and Direct telephone number to them again to avoid any mistake on the Delivery and ask them to give you the tracking number to enable you track your package over there and know when it will get to your door step so that you can sign on it. Let me repeat again,Try to contact them as soon as you receive this mail and ask them how you will make the security fee of $290 usd to them to avoid any further delay and remember to pay them their Security Keeping fee of $290 .00 US Dollars for their immediate action.

Note this. The FEDEX COURIER COMPANY don't know the contents of the Box.

I registered it as a BOX of Africa cloths. They did not know the contents was money. this is to avoid them delaying with the BOX. Don?t let them know that box contents is money ok

Yours Faithfully,
Mr Scott Williams.

Ain't Technology a Bitch? I wish I could remember how I met Mr. Williams though.

People deal with grief in different ways..
I'm realizing that I do mine privately..
I don't think its a good thing...
I feel like me breaking down in front of people is just adding to their own grief..
Magnifying it kinda..
i Don't know if its healthy..Maybe its not..
I don't cry where people can see me..
so i soldier..
I try my best to act as if I'm just fine...
..i think my mom knows this though...
she continues to ask me if I'm ok..
and I continue to say ...I'm alright..
I'm glad that she asks though..
I feel like she understand that i will ALWAYS say I'm ok..
so she continues to ask...
These days have been hard for me...
i think it made worse by seeing my sister in so much pain..but not being strong enough to even talk to her about it....
I wil lbreak...and I CANNOT!!!

My Uncle Claude died a few days ago..
The last I saw him was when i went home for Christmas two years ago..
Strangely he was Still as I remember him..
A GIANT!!
Uncle Claude was so tall that when he entered a door way you would expect him to bend to enter.
I think it was even more magnified for me..
I was a small child...and to me..he seemed as Big as Big could be..
The times when he would lift me...
I swear i was at the top of the world looking down..
He was a Giant ..
But a Jolly Giant..
He had a laugh that would carry for miles..
You wouldn't even know what he was laughing about ...
But when you heard him..you had to smile..

Just as powerful was when he raised his voice at you to boof you way..
Lord...it was Like Moses on the Mountain to me..
But that rarely happened..
Well..kinda Rare..
Try to deal with 7 million daughters and nieces under the age of 12 alltogether all at once with personalities as diverse as you could possible imagine..
The independent bossy ones, the quiet creative ones that would get bullied, the one crying for her mother, the one who would make up stories and convince everyone else it was real, the nervous one...sigh..characters all of us..

But Uncle Claude took it all in stride..
Even when we would sit in his favorite chair...haha..
That Chair..
He would sit in that chair after work..and watch his westerns...
John Wayne was his favorite...
and listen to either Classic calypso or big band music...
and lecture us on that is what real music is..

But that chair called to us..
I think it was just because we knew it was his..
and he was coming soon to sit in it..
we would pile into it...
when there were other couches..and stools and floors everywhere..
But we would all go into that chair..
AND BREAK OUR NECKS running when we heard the wrecker pulling up...

Uncle clause was a mechanic..
He had his own Garage and of course bright shiny red Wreckers..
we would crawl on them like they were a new toy...
And wave when we saw him pass on the street with it..
The garage itself was a wonderland..

I will always remember walking around down there and imaging a secret world in between the rusting cars...and discarded parts in the yard.
They used a lift to raise the cars..and Uncle Claude would indulgently give us rides in it up and down up and down, shrieking girl screams, patient and smiling...ALWAYS.

I remember too when him and my aunt would take part in these dancing events..
They would get all gussied up and go ballroom dancing..
The man could dance...
he would put us on his feet and WHIRL away...

I think he was entirely responsible for my obsession with meat..
Garage FOOD.
The best
you would ask me what my favorite food was as a little girl and it would always be Garage food.
Uncle Claude would cook from Turtle to 'guana to Mutton..
in a bubbling pot on stones at the Garage
The dumplings would be cooked in with whatever meat was in the pot..
Tender and flavored with whatever was bubbling gt the time..
Nothing has tasted better..
Being able to eat with you hands made it soo much better...
it was amazing..
I would be in complete delight waiting for it to finish..
i didn't care WHAT was in that pot...
as long as he made it..

He was such a family man...
Dedicated to my Aunty Claudia...[Claude and Claudia - destined huh?]
and his kids who were so like him..but still not him..
You couldn't miss him in their faces..
I think they all got stronger parts of his personality...
One - more his strength,
One - his easy going and helpful nature
One - his openness and honesty..

He helped form my life..
he loved me as his own...
He was always happy to see me..
I reverted to the little girl that could fit in his hand whenever i saw him...
the girl that would have fits of giggling and excitement when he swung me in the air...
So i could see the top of the world..

I grieve for him...
I grieve for his loss
for the laughter he brought to our lives..
to the joy he brought to his wife and kids and to our family..
to that niche of security that you can only have when the people you love and love you are there ..where they always are, where they're always supposed to be...

I PRAY that i can go home to honor his memory
Once again i feel like the absentee relative..
absent in happy, absent in sad
Just absent

I'm failing them again..
I mourn that as much as I mourn him
I hope he and them can forgive me

Absent..
Im a second hand relative...
someone you remember fondly...but you don't see in day to day terms..
Absent..
the relative where if something happens to them you go ..
oh no that's so awful...
but it doesn't affect your day to day life..
i Hate that...
I feel like im the one that misses everything..
that's markedly missing..
i have no memories...as an adult...
i just rely on the ones that were in my childhood..
i guess it's my fault...
and i hope i have time to fix that..
the guilt gnaws at me.,..
I try to change it..
it breaks me when i can't..
thank god my sister hasn't given up on me..
at least her life can be mine too....
i don't want to be absent..
the forgotten..
no one to share my moments..
i hope they forgive me..