I'm a Bit Afraid to Move On

But I'm tired of fear getting the best of me- so I will!

After thinking long and hard about my decision to attend culinary school, I finally went to the campus to finish my paperwork and start the financial aid process.

Moving forward is so scary for me, because I haven't done it in a long time.

I'm not at all worried that going to school is something that I won't like or be able to finish, but I am worried about the hefty tuition costs. I've got a couple of months before I start school, and I'm going to try to cram as many scholarship applications into that time as I possibly can. I'm going to be able to apply for and if awarded, use scholarship monies toward tuition costs until the day I graduate, but it's a ball that I can't wait to get rolling. Thinking about money sucks major ass and I just don't want to do it anymore.

Hopefully, around this time next year, I will be well on my way to considering money a small part of life.

My son is always tuned into the Food Network Channel and claims that he wants to be a cook when he grows up. I asked him if he already knows how to do it, he replied 'yeah, but I have to grow up some more before I actually CAN'.

He loves producing edible splendors as much as I do. When ever we make a batch of cookies, or he has done anything as little as helping to stir a bowl of what ever we're going to eat later, he makes sure to let every one know that he helped!

My son is a video came fanatic.

I am not.

So, we don't connect there, but discovering that he loves to bake has given me a new way of getting together with him for a little one on one time. And no matter what the end result is, (whether it be tough cookies or flat cakes) I absolutely love smiling with him as a bit of flour escapes the bowl, or as the end of the knife dives into measurement that he's supposed to be leveling.

I just love to bake and there is a swing in my hip and a pep in my step when I do so. Part of the reason that I've chosen to focus on sweets as opposed to full meals is that, I think, when ever people do decide to go out to eat, most of time it's because they're hungry. They're going to eat anyway, but that little part at the end when they decide that they've saved room for the dessert that they've been eyeballing on the menu, or that they'll 'reward' them self with a sweet treat - I just want to be a part of that.

I've blogged about my latest adventure in baking here on my other blog http://crochetlanee.blogspot.com Check it out for a few recipes and pictures of sweet stuff!

I am lovin life!

Yes, that's actually an original though from Moi!
Lately it's been seeming like my recently refresh outlook on life is finally making a ripple in my world.
That's an awesome thing for the stagnant pond that I am.
Over the past week, I've made a couple things according to other people's specifications (custom orders) and they've loved them, I've taken my 'Just Get It Done' way of looking at things more seriously and have actually been getting shit done!

Even though my mounds of progress look like baby steps, when I take a step outside myself to look at what's really going on from an outsider's view, it's big to me and I feel great!
My son turned 6 a couple weeks ago, my little brother 19 the week after. My mom's birthday is today, and while she's away hopefully enjoying a nice relaxing couple of days away from home, I'm still baking her a cake for her day.
And I'm making it from scratch!

If it turns out ok, I'll share with you where I got the recipe, If not, i'm probably going to forget I ever said anything, throw the whole thing away and reconsider my choice to go to culinary school for baking. I've already messed up a batch of cookies, but I blame that on my measuring spoons and unwillingness to bake them in the first place. peanut butter cookies just are not my thing.

I have so much more to ramble about, but I just feel like I'm missing something, so I'm going to bounce for now...

BBL fer sure! lol

You know it's good when it makes you cry

I'm sure that you can think of a few things that the title of this blog could apply to, but, get your mind out of the gutter- I was talking about books! (this time).

Last week, I took Dominic to the library to pick out a few books, and decided to get one for myself as well. While strolling down the fiction section, looking for books with muted colors and ladies in Victorian attire on the cover, I couldn't find what I thought I was looking for, but came upon a novel called

Until That Good Day, by Marjorie Kemper.

This book is set in Louisiana during the depression era and is about a traveling sales man's lives. (Yeah- lives- he seems to have folds of them)

I've found myself looking over at my son , curled up and sleeping next to me while I read, and wondering what his fair in the winter, olive in the summer skin would have allowed him to get away with back in that day. (Assuming that he w ould have even been around)

I am, to this day, a bit perplexed by his fine brown hair and ever changing eye color. While I feel like he looks a lot like me, I still run my fingers through his hair and hold his face to see his eyes from time to time.

It's so silly now that I'm thinking of it, but before he was born. I was very worried about the looks and questions I would have to face while being out in public with him. I was sure that he would have to pay for being different from me. I even joined a few online groups to see consoling words from other mothers of bi-racial children. I was 19 back then, and it seems so long ago now, but there are times when I look at him and the way he does things and the way he interacts with other kids and wonder if he will ever have to chose. Or if he ever will.

He's a pretty laid back and somewhat oblivious child.

I like to think that my what others would consider liberal style of parenting may take some credit for that.

There was one time we he and I were on a bus. He was a baby with just a tuft of hair and big blue eyes and I was 19, looking like I was going on 2 myself, I suppose, because people looked at me with reassuring smiles although I wasn't worried about a thing.

After exchanging smiles with Dominic for a few stops, the lady who was sitting next to us up and asked me if I was babysitting. I must have looked at her like she was the hottest, most steaming pile of shit I had ever seen while I replied, "No.", because she had a look on her face that you would expect some one to have right after some one pulls on their tongue so much so as to stretch it aaaaalll the way out, then let it snap back and roll up into their face. (think Tom and Jerry)

Perhaps she thought she was asking one of those questions that people ask, even though they already know the answer to it like, 'nice day out, isn't it?' or 'you waiting for the bus?' when they see you standing directly next to a sign with a route number on it.

She told me that she asked because I looked so young- but really?

That experience pissed me off so much that I learned to smile back at the odd looks thatI got when Dominic called me mama, or when I would inadvertently put his pacifier in my mouth while digging something out of his diaper bag. You know, things only Mothers do.

When I went to register him for school this year. I had forgotten to fill one section of it and then there was the question, what race is he?

It's summer and I'm a few shades darker than normal, but certainly, you can see that I'm black. When I said he is both black and white equally, I was told that there could only be one choice, I was asked what color the father was and the guy behind the counter put that.

I was almost hurt, thinking, I carried this kid for 9 months, take food out of my mouth for him, and so on and I don't even count to the Clark County school district???

Then I realized that battles are to be picked, and I remembered the values that I'm instilling in Dominic and decided that it didn't matter what some guy with make up, a weave, and a beard behind some counter thought.

My big brother, who was with me noted that that was a fucked up thing to do. I do love him.

Anyway,

Dominic is who he is and will be who he will be. The end.

I do believe I've gone off on a tangent...

My bad.

I think this book, Until That Good Day, is pretty decent. And while most would think that the main charachter wouldn't deserve a tear, I found myself shedding a few. Perhaps because of my little story up there, or maybe it's just that good.

If you like reading books that are set in an earlier era, you might want to check this one out.

Such is life

There should have been several posts before this one.  But there aren't.

Such is life.

I'll make a long story short anyway, just so you'll see where I'm coming from tonight.

In june, my little brother graduated high school.  In August, WE decided to move away to go to college.  To california.  He wants to be a probation officer, My goal is to become a social worker.

He went first (because he was fresh out of high school, and for some reason, they went first). My mother and went out to california to check on him and to set things up for me.  While out there, we learned that things weren't going positively for him.. my set up plans fell through, and here I am today.

Still in Las Vegas, but now with the mind set of 'I will Do SOMETHING!'.

While I've sat on my ass for about 7 (gasp) years now, It's pretty obvious to me that the only way to change that part of me is to get rid of it altogether.

Go to school, start living again!

I don't know if it was the voyage to California and back home that kicked things into high gear, or something else, but in high gear, I am.

I am determined to do something. Determined to make a way.

Right now, my mind is set on getting my son ready for his life.  He started school this year (and is doing quite well).  Perhaps that's what gave me a little kick as well.

I'm realizing that video games, bouncy toys, and cuddles galore aren't going to get my boy to where he needs to be.  It just won't cut it anymore, and I'm in no position right now to do much for his future( and subsequently, our future).

So. My mind is swimming with options.  It seems like I'll be in this shit hole of a town for at least 2 more years if i'm not able to help it.

It seems like with this more positive outlook, with this new found spark, great things are happening around me and i don't want to fall back into the sedentary mentality and miss out on them.

I've declared that it is only I that can determine what path to go down, what mood to be in, which desired outcome I'll go with.

But under it all, I am still Nisha.  The Nisha that has become accustomed to easy doing it.  I never was very competitive; rather I take an 'If you really want it, you can have it, GOSH!' stance on a lot of things.

Sadly, from sports, to jobs, to worth, happiness, love, attention, devotion, and so many other things that, if given too freely can be detrimental to self.

damn you guys, that was a long story short long!

Pretty much, I'm up blogging right now because I can't sleep.  I'm thinking about my visit to CSN and how it left me even more confused than before i went, a chat  with a friend who tried to break it down, but really didn't.

I'm afraid to commit to a program because in my dream world, I'm not living in nevada even 1 year from now.  (yes, this is the same chick who just a few years ago was ready to commit to marriage and what not).

That shit is done with though, Nisha is like, screw a marriage, if you want to stay, stay, if you want to leave, good luck and don't take my big screen.

I'm feeling slightly confused, but headed in the right direction.

I'm feeling lonely with the weakness that feeling like I need some one to hold my hand and tell me that things will be ok, that things will work out is.  Because I don't have that right now.  So, I just wish I didn't want it.

I'm feeling like a middle school aged girl on the inside who likes some one, but is afraid to like them, but does none the less.  I think i come off as confident, but really I'm so unsure of it all.  So unsure that when I realize that this person is creeping into my dreams, I wake myself up.  So as not to become too attatched to the image and idea when the real subject is outside of arm's reach.

Maybe I just love Robin Thicke too much and should remember to turn my music player off before I fall too deep into sleep.

A Snippet of Conversation

While in the bathroom finishing my hair, my son comes in with a small dumbbell and asks"

'hey mama, wanna exercise your muscles?'

I was like, no.

'it'll help you lose weight'

I replied, 'I don't need to lose weight.'

his response: "Well, it looks like you do."

My Little Dracula Baby

Before I could post pics and brag about how my son's snaggle tooth finally fell out last week, the other one came out too!

Now that I can actually see the changes in my son, I feel like time is flying by faster than ever.

I was kind of hoping for a toothless school picture, and if they do it soon enough, I just may get it!

And What Are You Going to Do for ME?

I've come to the point where I'm expecting things in return. Simply giving is not enough in most cases.
I think this epiphany was reached when I realized not too long ago that while I was giving so much of myself to make sure that the people around me's needs were met, I found myself feeling empty and wishing some one would notice or care that I was in need myself.

But for real, that shit's getting old.

I'm 25 now- I figure; I'm at the point in life where, after every waking morning, I've had to put someone else before me, get up out of bed when i REALLY didn't want to, and have for way too long neglected improving on the quality of my life.

I'm not totally to the 'fuck every one else' point, and I hope that i will never get there, but I'm finding it easier to ask- 'If I do this for you, what are you going to do for me?'

My theory is that a person who never or rarely asks this question always or almost always is getting screwed.

It's not too much to ask that I be considered. In fact, It's a rule!