Hot & Sticky

Aloha!

Had a long practice for “What it Means to Speak Life”, the play that I’m in this coming Tues, Wed & Thurs.

Tamika asked me to come over at 9 before I drove to the rehearsal.
She had been very moody the night before, and wanted a hug and to apologize.
I don’t mind it, and honestly I feel bad for girls since they had to deal with that once a month. And no, I’m not being sarcastic. It’s a little rough when I’ve had a crummy day myself, but working together is what it’s all about, right?

The play went smoothly, and I packed the back of my rockin’ Corolla FX (snicker) with my costumes. I brought my beret for the Black Panther scene. I’m glad I saved it, it was from when I was in Cadets in Canada.

We practiced in a church that used to be a school next to Harambee (my church) and fortunately they had air conditioning. It was HOT today.

I’m really bonding with a lot of the cast members, most of whom are neo black nationalists. They are such deep and passionate people, and are making great friends.

I finished rehearsal at around 4:30 (we started at 10) and rushed to Home Depot to meet Tamika on her supper break.
She apologized again, and I took her out to Wendy’s. We talked about stuff that was bugging her and worked out plans to pick up her car.

She’s getting a mint condition red 1997 VW Jetta from Philly, and she’s letting me have her old 86 VW Golf.

Her friend Joy is coming tomorrow, and Tamika is inviting her to church with us (Tamika got Sunday off for the first time in a long time). I told Tamika I might go down to Berte’s house, and she asked if I would take the Golf so I could get it vacuumed out with Berte’s shop vac.
I dropped her off and went down to Berte’s.
Greg has pneumonia and so I just vegged with him for a while, and he ordered some gaskets for the fuel-stop on my motorcycle.
I already got it insured, retitled, and registered, so it’s about ready to go. All I have to do is do the finishing touches (getting the tank back on and the horn connected) and I’ll be ready for inspection.

I vacuumed out her car and watched some of the “Blue Collar Comedy” with them on TV. Some of it was funny, but a lot of it was stinkin’ offensive.
At one point, the “Cable Guy” sang a Christmas song about “illegal aliens getting green cards, learning how to drive, and then learning some !@#$ english.”
The crowd went wild. They gave him a standing ovation.

I mean, bloody hell.
Every bloody white person on this continent is an illegal alien. They just KILLED OFF the original inhabitants.

Maybe that’s one of my biggest problems with a president like Bush. He caters to people like that. People who are oppressive to other people.
While Americans get treated like royalty in other countries. What a bunch of crap.
People have told me to my face: “If you don’t like it, leave.”
No problem. Get me a ticket, and be on the next flight. The only reason I’m here is because I was suckered into taking out a Student Loan.
There’s nothing that could convince me to stay on this sinking ship.

I bit my tongue. Berte & Greg are wonderfully nice people. Berte and I are the best of friends, but we dissagree on some politics. Berte & Greg were in the Navy for a long time, which gives one a lot of pride in their homeland.

I drove home, and Tamika came by to drop off my car.
She seemed abrasive, but I was probably just tired and sensitive.
I think I’ll call her.

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