Monthly Archives: August 2012

Put your big boy pants on

~Put your big boy pants on

I read in People Magazine the other day Jack Osborne was diagnosed with MS.  Yes, Ozzy and Sharon’s boy.  I couldn’t STAND that kid back in the day on their reality show.  He was a rich disrespectful brat!  Well different day my friend, different day indeed.  He is handsome, a new father and engaged.  Been sober for like ten or more years.   Well done Jack.  Well done indeed!

The article said he’s mad and the family is horribly upset.  I understand also being recipient of MS.  So I get it I really do.  When I was diagnosed I felt like I just took a baseball to the chest thrown by Clemmons.  My breath was GONE.

So get your breath Jack, you’re gonna need it.  Then shake off the disappointment and get in the game.

First rule of play- it ain’t the end of the world.  Sharon and the fam were KILLING me.  All the talk and cry’n about him being a good person and blaming God.  Please!  God didn’t give you MS Jack, life did.  Is a person who happens to be turned into a paraplegic because of a car accident a bad person? NO, just time and unforeseen Occurrences Jack.  They happen to all of us.  You ain’t special kid.

I’m not try’n to be insensitive, but it is what it is.  I myself am female, black and handicap.  That’s right a triple threat. A Tipple minority.  WHAT WHAAAT! So I can talk and I will talk.  (I think I need my own gang finger sign).  I digress…

So if I knew then what know now I wouldn’t just listen to doctors.  I lost valuable time.  Remember it’s the “practice” of medicine.  Let me know when they Perfect that mess.

I would have taken inventory of everything I could currently do like running, jumping, walking backwards everything.  Then create an exercises program including all of that.  Perform the exercises several times a week.  Change my eating habits.  Cut out process foods, sugar and bead as much as possible.  Stay on top of it.  I can’t tell you when I couldn’t skip any more.  It just seems like one day I needed a cane then a walker the next thing I knew I was in a wheelchair.

Oh and find hyperbaric chambers in your area.  I honestly feel if I would have found out about this therapy before I lost the ability to walk.  I seriously think I still would be walking.  Better yet ask Ozzy and Sharon to buy you a chamber.  Who new Michael Jackson had it right all long…

Remember MS isn’t a life threatening disease like Cancer, Heart disease, or Leukemia.  Even if it were, your parents are celebrities.  You have AWESOME resources.  Think about us poor suckers that have these illnesses no money or connections.  Chin up brother I’m sure you can get face time with Ann Romney and get her secret.  Chic looks good and is still walking for as long as she’s had it.  Get some of her MAGIC juice!

Pull up your pants Jack!  You all-ight




You are NOT going to believe THIS! So this past Tuesday I took Access like normal to my OT appointment.  The driver rolled me onto the lift and latched the emergency belt behind me. Then activated the lift, raising me up to the same level as the van and as I rolled in we had the normal cordial banter.  As I paid my fare he looked at me and said you don’t recognize me arrogantly as he open handily touched his chest.  He touched his chest as to indicate he was hurt.

I hadn’t recognized him. He didn’t have the silver foe diamond earrings or silver bracelet on.  The only silver that remained was his oversized silver chain with a cross dangling around his neck. Oh and the oversized sunglasses. Yes it was PEANUT head.  Allow me to explain how CREAPY this was.  I have been riding Access again for about three months.  In that time this is the FIRST time I’ve ever had the same driver twice!!!  I do have to say when I realized it was him a few drops of pee came out.

As he locks my chair in and harnesses my seat belt he talks about my complaint.  Not to apologize.   Rather he proceeded to talk down to me saying you weren’t talking about me were you?  He even said you must have meant someone else.  Suddenly my disability was very apparent to me.  There were no other riders on the bus.  I began to feel trapped.  What was on this FOOLS mind?

Have you ever been in a relationship with a JERK?  You know he’s cheating, lying or just treating you bad.  But he tries to get in your head and confuse you.  He tells you the sky is green when it’s clearly blue.  HE was that guy. Maybe the sky is green after all.  He was seeping into my mind. I felt a little scared.

Then I remembered a documentary I saw about another type of predator, a lion.  Even though he is the top of the food chain a man making LOUD noises and holding a staff above his head yelling made the lion stop his charge.  I sat up as straight as I could.  No it was YOU!  I told YOU that fast irritate turn made me hit my HEAD!  I gave Access customer the date, time, route and bus number so they could find you.  YES I raised my voice.  IF HE WANTED TO ACT LIKE THAT JERK  I WILL TREAT HIM AS SUCH!

The ride was quite the rest of the way.  He NEVER apologized.  I stuck by my story. He was not my friend.  I was determined not to stroke his ego.  I couldn’t wait to get OFF that buss.  I would be civil and mind my manners.  However NO eyes contact.  I rolled away from the bus and didn’t look back.

Albert was couldn’t believe it when I told him what happened.  The driver committed the BIGEST pho paw in customer service.  Once you’ve been talked to by your supervisor you don’t push back on the customer.  When I worked for Nordstrom you would have been fired for less.  Albert said I should call Accesses and complain again.

Friday after sleeping on the experience a few days I called to complain.  I started recounting the event to the customer service agent and she stopped me mid-sentence.  I was thinking, RUDE!  Then she excitedly said I talked to you last week.  He confronted you?!  I told her everything.  She repeatedly apologized on behave of the company and said they DO NOT support the drivers behavior!  She told me after my initial complaint his supervisor talked to him and a mandatory drive along assessment was scheduled.  RIGHT ON ACCSSES!  So many companies don’t take customers complaint serious.  She said she would not only make a new infraction towards the driver but talk to supervisor about what else can be done.

Apparently I forgot to nail one side of the coffin.  I think we’re good now. Wooo! Make a sista wanna DRINK!

Its Like That?!

Ok, so I began writing this on Saturday and it’s taken me this long to finish! I originally wanted to write a couple times a week but can you do right.

~It’s like That?!~

I just gotta tell you what happened to me this past Thursday.  I had an Occupational therapy appointment.  I took the Access bus aka the “short bus” to it.  So the driver was a late twenty’s early thirty’s African man.  How did I know this?  Well first off all he was “Bling’n” silver with a big silver chain around his neck, silver encased foe diamond earrings and lastly silver chain around his wrist.  Oh and YES his shirt was unbutton 70’s style.  I almost forgot sunglasses too big for his little peanut head.

Before he had even opened his mouth so I could hear his accent I knew he wasn’t from the US.  You don’t “Bling” silver.  You wear silver.  Oh but most definatly he thought he was “Bling’n” it.   So I should have known right there before he even touched my wheelchair this wasn’t going to be like other rides.

After you’ve rode access a few times you can figure out the rules drivers are supposed to follow.   Some follow them all, others some he followed none.  He was really feeling himself and drove the bus with no regard for the people in the back.  I usually sit back and relax on the bus.  Sometimes I catch up with phone calls, text and put on my lip gloss.  I’m pretty solid with my sitting balance.  No, this FOOL took a corner so SHARP and FAST I hit my head and almost slipped out of my chair because YES he didn’t adjust my seatbelt right!

Oh but wait there’s MORE.  So we stop to pick up another rider.  He goes into the building to get them.  Shorty he walks out with an elderly gentleman.  The man is wobbly and slowly walks with a cane.  Now drivers normally offer a hand and help riders.  Did dude do this?  OF COURSE NOT!  There is a safety belt that goes behind people that need the lift.  Once again he didn’t use it.  I wanted to SMACK HIM UP SIDE HIS HEAD!  Oh and in between stops he told me back home in Ethiopia he was an accountant.  He missed his family and didn’t like driving a bus.  One bad thing about coming to the States is they don’t recognize most countries schooling so he couldn’t work as an accountant here.  I actually felt sorry for him.  But then he started talking down to me.  After all I was only a woman and a broken one at that.

I remembered what my girl Nic had said about immigrants once.   She said to the affect they shouldn’t be treated special.  If they want to reap the benefits of living here they should observe our rules and respect the American way of life.  That SNAPPED me back.  Ok driver grab a pad and pencil and Sit UP STRAIGT!  SCHOOL’S FINNA BE IN SESSION!

FIRST of all this ain’t THE 70’S, 80’S or Even the 90’s! BUTTON your SHIRT, TAKE OF THE SILVER, SAVE for GOLD and BUY some glasses that FIT your LITTLE PEANUT HEAD.  Baby you in the new MILLENIUM and you AIN’T in Ethiopia SON!   Oh and women are not smart?!  Clinton is the Secretary of State and Oprah is well Oprah.  YES respect that.  We talk LOUD when and where we want to!  Did I actually say these things to him no.  I said it in my head though.  I didn’t want to meet bad behavior with bad behavior.  If I did that he could blow me off and think I fit his stereo type of black people in America.  I will school him in the “Land of the Free Way”.  Because in truth this more than just me at stake.  You know he drives and treats everyone this ways this isn’t a one time insident.  We may be mentally challenged, blind, elderly or have MS but we are members of Society.   Living here affords us to have a voice and the freedom to make a complaint.  When I complain I’m doing so for everyone who rides.

Friday I called Access Customer Service to make an official complaint.  Oh and yes I made sure to use my BEST Nordstrom Vernacular to appear vanilla.  It always works.  The woman I spoke to was very kind and apologetic and said she would forward it straight to his manager with a note saying he needed more training. How did she know who his manager is?  Because I peep’d his bus ID number and told her my pick-up and drop off time with the route info.  I started looking around and collecting after I hit my head before the conversation went south.  Just in case I wanted to report him.

Am I done yet?  No!  A letter will be written to the higher ups. That is what living here affords us.  If we are willing to take the time to research contacts NO one is unreachable. I figured I better put a NAIL in his coffin for good measure.  Did I say I was gonna make a complaint to him. No!  That will be a gift his boss can give him. That way he will be off balanced and unsettled. Maybe he will not look at us as “broken” people but just people. People smart enough to put your job in jeopardy if you don’t follow the rules.   WELCOM TO AMERICA KID!



Ok, you’re not going to believe this.  Today my Mom and I were leaving my physical therapy appointment and went to get in the elevator at the same time two women were getting out.  When we realize they were there we apologized because it was our bad.  The women graciously laughed and as the 75 plus one walked off she patted me on my head.  YES SHE PATTED MY HEAD!  Why do people think that’s ok?  It happened so fast my Mom and I just looked at each other IN SHOCK as the old bag shuffled off!  Let me take a deep breath and center myself.  I wanted to talk about something else. But you know she probably thinks it’s ok to pat midgets on the head to.  OK I’ll stop.


Albert is on a two week business trip to Minneapolis.  NO I’m not crying.  Miss him yeah but YOU know I’m a big girl.  I keep it move’n and handle my business while he handles his.

In his absence my Mom is staying with me for part of the time.  Lil sis, my Mom and I got to do something I haven’t done in I don’t know when. Walker shopping! We walk into Nordstrom cosmetics and shop like it was meant to be done. I love Albert and he does take me shopping, but it’s very aim shoot and get out of there when it comes to girly stuff.   I have to know what I need and get it.  It’s not like I don’t know what I want when I go with Mom and AG but they know the process.

First, go to the cosmetic line to get what you are out of grab it but don’t shoot yet.  Next, glance over all the glosses and lipsticks to see if there is something better than the gloss you are out of.  Then stripe possible replacements and or additions on the space of skin between the bottom of your thumb and start of your wrist.   I’m checking for texture, is it sheer, matte and does it have a scent or is it sticky? I HATE sticky gloss.  The people in black clothes gloss is sticky. YUCK!  Is the color the same on your skin as it is when you twist the tube up?

Then you need input and let’s just face it you need your girl, a good sales consultant (not one that is just trying to sell something) or a girl family member.  Do you shoot then?  NO!  Of course you now ask whoever “listed above” with you do they see anything else.  Of my crew AG fills this roll and takes a quick look around the cosmetic dept. and hunts to see if a rival exists.   I mean, how can I truly make an educated decision until all options have been explored?  Am I just idle twiddling my thumbs awaiting her return?  Oh contrer monfrer I’m hunting, looking at lipsticks I’ve never worn before, NARS.  I found my perfect RED!  See if I was shopping with Albie and neglected this process, that lipstick would have never made it in my bag nonetheless my big lips.  It still scares me to think of it.  My sis was unable to find a better gloss so I got a replacement of the one I already had with MY NEW perfect red.

My love would say this was CRAZY to go through all that to Only get what you already had.  Truth be told I was almost convinced I was crazy.  Then it occurred to me that for my friend Callahan cooking is her passion. She makes the best hot wings and cheese cake I’ve ever had.  Forget about putting just her foot in it she puts her who LEG in it.  MERCY they are so good.  She shop’s like a fat kid eats cake!  If one store is good 10 must be better.  She will go through countless stores, websites or whatever to find the perfect spice, pan, or cooking utensil before buying.   My friend’s mom from Ecuador uses a smooth stone to crush garlic.  She gets the stones from the rocky see shore.  Do you really think she just grabs the first rock she sees?  NO it’s a process.  She picks the stone up and checks its smoothness, its weight, size, how it fits in her hand.  To see her 5’ petit self, smash garlic into submission.  It’s no joke!  Pampered Chef who?  Pampered Chef what?

The more I write and think about this I realize it’s not my honeys fault that he doesn’t understand.  How could he?  We are from different packs.  I’m from a pack where we all have a passion, processes, loves.  Mom and AG thank you for helping me remember I AM still a woman.

OK we’ll give this a try, if it dont work i’m goin back to the open arms of Suckerberg

So i’ve been told that embedding music in a blog is frowned upon. And since this is my first post I dont want to offend. If you will, if you wont, if you do, if you dont, its not my call. But you’ll get to know this chic betta if you watch the video above that inspired my introduction.

Who’s that girl la la la la la (Rapper Eve reference)

One of my friends asked me why I am making a blog.   I didn’t know how to express why at that moment.  Now that I’ve had time to think about I will try.

I thought I should do a disclaimer.  I’m not the best speller or a queen at grammar in general.  Without notice I can switch English, Ebonics, pop culture, sports references to hip hop quotes, to plane Allison talk.  Please hang in there but know that sometimes the ride gets bumpy.

When my lil sister and friends told me I should start a blog I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough to talk about.  Then it occurred to me I’m a black, in a wheelchair, with a chronic illness (MS), married to a white man with two poodles, pushing up on 40.

These days I try to take life has it comes.    I’m not who I was, not who I’m gonna be, I’m who I am now and I’m fine with that.  Better than that I’m GOOD!  I’m married to the LOVE of my LIFE that happens to be my BEST friend.  Does it get to be better than that?  I’m good. I’m good.

Some people see me and they don’t see ME, they see the wheelchair first or see what I was. Better yet what they think they should see.  Friends, family and whoever think they are treating me like everyone else but even if their words don’t say it their energy does. You ain’t sly.  PLEASE its’ written all over your face.

Yo PEEP this.  I know who I am.  Like I said I’m a 39 yr old, in a wheel chair, have MS, a black woman, married to a white man.  I got me, so get you.  It’s amazing how some people treat people in wheelchairs.  Don’t touch my hair, rudely interrupt my conversation by leaning down grabbing my shoulders and kissing my check or stand to my left or right side talking to me so I have to WRENCH my neck straight to talk to you.  Forget about grabbing the chair next to you and sitting and chat with me eye to eye.

I love Bartholomew, she isn’t hung up on the past.  She sees me and just me, always has.  Whether walking with a cane, four wheel walker, or a wheelchair she’s my, ”Ride or Die Chic”.  Just gets it!  Just a quick how ya doin, how ya feelin and then keeps it mov’n.  Don’t get your panties in a bunch if I’d say you and you get it to.  Just know that I appreciate you.

I’m 5’7 and weigh 140 pounds.  In the heels heffers wear today I’d be 5’10 or 5’11, a black woman, weighting 140 pound 39 years old.  Would you step to me like you do now?  Would you give me more respect and my personal space?

My point is please respect me and handicap people, whatever their disability is. BACK up off me!

The thing I appreciate the most about being in the chair is seeing a different vantage point than I’d ever have the chance to see.  There is a four year old boy, bright blue eyed, toe head and 25% deaf in my congregation.  He came up to me and asked for a kiss, so I bent over, turned my head and gave him my cheek to kiss.  He reached up grabbed my face abruptly turned my head and laid one dead on my lips.  Thought to myself all righty then and looked at his Mom for direction.  She smiled and laughed.  She told me Gav always tells her I am his friend because I listen to him.  Being hearing impaired his speech isn’t perfect.  I have to look at him dead in the face and see his words while I hear them.  If I was 5’10 in heals would I have thought of or been patient enough to bend down and look into Gav’s eyes and hear his words?  Or see the beautiful things I’ve seen waiting for Albert at the bottom of the stairs out in service?

Truth be said, I know I would have been the person who stands in their 3 or 4’ heels and talk to a person in a wheelchair while they turned straining their neck. Never stopping to smell the roses, let alone counting their petals.  Note! I’m proud of that and don’t like being continually reminded about that era of Allison.

I would have however stopped going to clubs and bars with people who drink too much and needing to stay out past midnight.  Moms were right, nothing good happens after midnight. Don’t get it TWISTED.  I don’t miss that life one single bit, it’s not the wheelchair!  Can’t quite afford the top shelf but I’m out of the “well”.  I enjoy a good glass of vino and am getting better at recognizing a good bottle.  Occasionally think of the past but live in the present….I’m just say’n