A Year Ago This Weekend...

This time last year I made it back to Chicago after trying to re-establish myself in Houston, Texas.

Things didn't work out like I wanted them to.

I just wanted to get on my feet and find a way to fall in love with the new, Southwestern me, but I realized after struggling to find my place, working as an insider in Uncle Tom's Cabin (Shell Oil, damn big oil), and trying to avoid a relationship I wasn't trying to have because I didn't know who I was or what my role was... Was a lot of work.

I broke a promise and never looked back weeks after getting back here to Chicago, but I had no clue I'd be here, right now.

Happy.

And married.

What the fuck? I got married back in December.


I heard the stories. I read the complaints. I heard my name in the mouths of many a brown blogger that I was some man whore, hell bent on screwing at least one third of the female population via my big rig. That I traveled to Houston under false pretenses and broke some young woman's heart when I abruptly left her high and dry... Wow, I wish I could have had the heart to have been half that dude because it seemed like he was having fun.

That dude wasn't me, and I never complained about that. Still ain't gonna'.

I wish I was getting the ass some said I was getting on my escapades. I would have had some great tales of conquest to tell, but... It didn't go down like that for me in Houston, in Salt Lake City or while I was on the road.

I made mistakes in 2007, I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be and I corrected that mistake a year ago this weekend.

I never knew that the woman who would be my wife would be in Chicago and that we would have the adventures we had that led up to us falling in love and getting married in Vegas. She had been someone that I had flirted with since 2005 and someone I could call friend. All of that friend shit went out of the window when she just so happened to be in Chicago when I was coming off the road. That weekend, those moments and that first kiss...

Yeah, I was sold on dating her from that point, but never did I know that we would be all up in Home Depot a year later looking at paint swatches for the bedrooms and moving furniture into our second living room (it's a compound, I tell ya, just enough space to get away from each other when we ain't in love).

I left Houston pretty much the way I came: confused and directionless. Even though I got an incredible offer of employment that came out of nowhere (because the job I wanted called me at the last minute and told me they didn't want me) I still had no clue what would be in store for me when I got back to Chicago.

The person I had confidence in straight flipped on me and opened up to me after I left and then a few weeks later spoke to the folks investigating me for the job I got in Chicago last year. Did you know that prevented me from getting the security clearance I needed for the job and I lost out on a shitload of salary and bonuses that I was going to use to compensate that person, and I ended up not getting that position and ended up with a lesser paying one and damn near lost that one because I needed that damn security clearance?

I'm not angry about that anymore, but that did cause me to get as angry as I have been since my drinking days in the Army. I even plotted to go back to Texas and confront folks over that but my money was funny and then I decided to break my promise to them and with the help of my brother, best friend and dad I just walked away and left that shit alone.

And a few weeks later I was running around Chicago with... My wife.

And it kept happening. And then we created the patented (pending) Hassan Traveling/Shacking System

Midwest
West Coast
Midwest
West Coast

Labor Day came, and then She was with the fam at Thanksgiving, and we were driving down I-5 to places unknown in Southern Oregon for Sunday Brunch and then days later we were on Michigan Avenue downtown Chicago...

And now a year later and damn near a year married here I am.

In the time that I traveled back to Chicago I thought I was falling back in love with the city because I missed all of the events, people and atmosphere it had to offer but that wasn't it.

I was falling in love with myself.

And then I was able to fall in love with her.

And then we brought it together here in Chicago. She surprised me when she found a job here and said to me: "Let's go home"

I never thought it was possible for me to find myself, find my love and find a home here in this place, all in the span of one year. I thought it was impossible.

Now I know that nothing is impossible.


Husband, Homeowner and Hunter-Gatherer

I never knew that could be me. What a year.

What the Fcuk is a Caucus and No, You Can't Use it to Seal Your Shower Tile

The political process in America is simple.

They express what they can do, we investigate and then we act based on facts, service record and action.

There is a caucus today.

Iowa is smaller than most states, and there are few minorities living there. We must be observant with this evening's process. There is a HUGE difference between a caucus and an election. With a caucus:

• They gather (around 6pm central tonight I believe) And discuss each candidate.
• Arguments are made for each candidate. Spirited ones, so this should be good.
• If a candidate does not get 15% support, he/she is dropped from discussion.
• After the lower tier candidates are dropped, reshuffling of top tier ones occur.
• The REAL arguments begin and some folk will change their stance (via group vote)
• Final arguments are had, then (about 200,000 from what I believe) there is a final vote.
• The votes are hand counted, and a winner is declared.

Now see, that's some serious Parliament-type old school stuff right there. I hope us folk in the brown blogosphere are aware because my state and others just have straight elections. At lease the good folk in Iowa get down with it.

I hope that folks take this electoral process seriously and remember that the American political process is one that requires active participation from both sides. The politician isn't the only one who is required to put in work. We have an unalienable right to question folk on their shit and I hope we do so. We also have what's called required rights to question, investigate, veto, impeach and form a militia when things aren't going our way because we are constituents. Don't ever forget that.

Our last president did not have the required electoral votes or popular vote to be qualified to hold office and the supreme court appointed him amidst election nigh chaos.

And we sat there and watched.

The wife and I saw Katt Williams in concert over the weekend and brother man was calling Bush an idiot. I love and respect Katt and all of y'all but I must say that we are the idiots because we sat there and did nothing when we could have been just as scandalous as the various administrations over the years. Note that I said administrations instead of G. Dubya. All he did was delegate authority, took credit and give most of his people work during his two terms. One man (or woman) can't fuck all of this up.

Especially when 30 million registered voters with unalienable rights are watching.

It makes no sense to me how someone could sit there and watch and complain and never question his or her senator or congressman. Some of these cats have been in office for years, so how does the previous administrations get away with anything when congress outnumbers the executive branch and can strike down a veto with a two thirds vote?

We don't hold any one's foot to the fire. From precinct captians to the supreme court if a person made a phone call, wrote a letter, marched, got on TV or used this incredible medium called the intetrnet to do some work and not spread rumors, lies and gossip, we would be free in some respects.

Pakistani folk can't vote like this - Candidates get shot an blown up.
Over 2000 Kenyans came to a church and killed more than 400 folks because of an election.
Our current administration refused to intervene with oil prices by releasing reserves, keeping it near $100 a barrel instead of down near $60. Would have meant gas going near $2. Remember a fill-up under 40 bux??

Funny how text messages in 2007 surpassed emails and telephone calls as the preferred method of communication in the US. Funny how I got more hits with my post on an anonymous blogger than any post I've had in the past couple of months. The internet, viral videos, texting and chat could be used to get that next revolution off the ground, but...

I'm sure we have better things to do than to watch or pay attention to a caucus. From Iowa. With limited brown skinned participation.

If the reincarnation of Adolph Hitler gets in this November, remember... No participation, no complaining.

You have been warned.

Now, back to trifling bullshit, internet scandal and pics of stuff you would never hang on your cubicle walls.

Seacrest, out.

Whatchu Know About It?

Hustling bus transfers
smoking shorted squares

ordering deli meat by the dollar, not by the pound
food stamp cards with PIN's that don't work right
coupon hustling

leaving expensive, hard to carry ish at the bottom of the shopping cart
stretching that kool aid... with more water and sugar
pushing pop bottles
letting go of your favorite CDs to cover that pawn ticket

in the lobby of the courthouse praying that the arresting officer no-shows

getting thru the line at county hospital in less than 4 hours
getting that extra chicken wing in your order
irregular sized joints... special priced to move
display models

the cable not being cut off
finding the right customer service rep that'll extend your due date

not getting that scrilla in the mail when you promised everybody...
traffic moving too damn slow on the way to that sure bet interview
seeing your old classmates at your worst...

not being able to get popcorn at the movies
spending your kicking it money to keep the lights on because...
getting sick and not getting the rest you need because the kids need you
missing the last slot in that pre req you need next fall
financial aid check short

not enough gas the day before payday
going to church just to get a hot meal at someone's house
hog head cheese
potted meat
hot dogs on sale for 99 cents... you know, breakfast, lunch and dinner?

hitting the back door at the back of the bus
hustling dubbed mix tapes
boosting for resale to make rent
getting a payday loan to pay off that other payday loan

celly getting cut off the week you're waiting for that call
merching your vicodin ($10 a pop... sheeeyit!)
moving all of your DVDs

giving plasma
your futon/bed/couch/table/bookcase

calling that spot to get in on that medical research ish
scalping your cousin's tickets to the game
coming home in the stealth of night to avoid the landlord

sitting with the lights off so no one knows you're home
using your overdraft protection

Bor.ders being your library
free internet at the public library... that lasts 45 minutes

or just bouncing that check because you have to

spending your last dollar on that lotto ticket

standing in the free cheese line
and actually using that powdered milk
and that cheese

the 99 cent menu
foam rollers masquerading as a mattress

scooping all of the free coupons BK and KFC outta the building vestibule
dark meat - 3 pieces for $1.99
the 10 cent sale
Buy one get one...

getting over on them cee-lo and craps cats on the corner
messing with the blackjack table with your last $100
copping wears from the goodwill and salvation army spots

not being able to express your frustration properly
crying because it hurts to be isolated and alone in partial poverty

being able to afford bullshit off the dollar menu but not the healthy shit
younger cats with ice, rims and fat pockets vs you and your degree(s) and being broke

washing the same 3 shirts over by hand, rotating them in the same workweek
stealing from the school cafeteria
getting drunk to forget your troubles
window shopping at the dollar store

getting your cousin to 'flip' your tax return
selling Sam's Club candy bars to get car fare...


no AC in July, sweating it out at 2am... on the floor
loosing the joints you put in lay away
that old-ass radio that can't get the station

sleeping thru the gunshots


not calling your mama when you know you need to, but just can't