Some kind of fool never knows when to keep his or her mouth shut. This is because he or she does not think prior to speaking. Didn’t your mother always tell you to do so? Well mine did. She scolds me for a lot of things, my Ma. Mold man, othe other hand, is the type that’ll let you say all you want to say until you are out of breath,yet with so much to say.
One night this past summer, I had a mad fight with my mother.i’m sure she was feeling just fine, having had the last word, which was “Now shut up or you’ll be sorry.” Mommy decided to meet a couple girlfriends at some Chinese jointto sip a glass a wine or something. If you know me, I was wired, and not in a good way. I was angry at my Ma, she said some nasty things out of anger. I knew right then and there. They were not true, therefore she didn’t mean them. I would’ve been some kind of fool to just sit in my room that Friday night and be angry, just like I was some kind of fool to keep arguing an issue my mother and I, believe both agree on. Growing up in a tight-knit Sicilian family, arguing can become a habit. You’d think I would go to law school to become a lawyer or something.
So I paced back and fourth in my room, kicked my dresser, ripped out a few hairs from head, tore up a magazine, bit my fists, and cried hysterically, all within about ten minutes. If you know me, you could picture the entire scene from this episode of my life. The reason why my breakdown lasted so short, was because of my pure stubbornness I learned from the best. Putting my mentality to use (not sure if it was good or bad), I refused to give Ma and any satisfaction by spoiling my evening. I would not sit in my room and cry. I would not sit in my room with Michael Jackson’s “Leave Me Alone” blasting. Instead, I gave every cool cat I knew a ring, planning to meet with someone, somewhere. “Just get me outta here,” I kept telling myself.
But no one was around. Every person I know in my neck of the woods, was either not picking up the phone (which sets me off big time), or busy elsewhere. I don’t know too many people around where I’m from that I can go out with for kicks. I’m a family girl that follows her folks wherever they go, because that’s just the way it is. Whatever other friends I do spend time with every now and then, live in New York, including my cousins. I don’t drive, nor do my parents allow me to take the bus anywhere, or commute with anyone other than themselves for that matter. So I decided to rebel. I thought, “I’m good, and it’s all good.” I put on my make-up, fitted denim jumpsuit that hugged my curves, teased my hair, grabbed lip gloss and a couple of bucks and through it all in a wristlet. I picked up my cell, and dialed my cousin Livia’s number.
“Hello?” she said. In the background, I could hear her three little rascals messing around.
“Yeah Liv? It’s Leen Lee,” she calls me that sometimes. “I’m telling Chubby [my Pops] I’m meeting some girlies at café 360 in town. But really it’s only me going. I ain’t sticking around here. This place is beat. Just thought I’d let you know in case anything goes I know who to call right?”
she laughed so loud my eardrum nearly broke. She told me I was bringing back memories from her adolescence. They were all too familiar, She said to be careful, and to call if I needed her. I’ll always love old Liv.
I told my Daddy to take me. He had no problem. A billion question is what he did have. The once in a while I do meet someone I know some place this is what goes on, thus I’m used to it. Nothing was stopping me on this July night. I would get dropped at the café where all the people of my town go to grab a cappuccino and gelato.
Once I got there, ordered a double espresso, and I was waiting to pay. Who walks in with a Gatorade in hand, my girl Jazmine, “Ja-Ja”, Quinones. She asked me what in the world I was doing alone at the café. She told me to tag along with her and Brittany Philips, Shontia Tate, and few other cats I had been acquainted with at school. I would’ve been some kind of fool to stay if the crowd headed toward an ally where I would never want to be. But I know Ja, she’s a good girl. Pretty soon I’d get picked up anyway. So I grabbed my coffee to go, and followed Ja-Ja.
We crossed the street to meet Brittany and the rest of the gang at the pizzaria, where Brittany was munching on a fresh slice. I had already had some Chinese for dinner. It was pretty late.
I made the girls laugh a little with my story about how my night was going so far. Before you knew it, Jazmine and this kid Ja-ree started beat boxing. So I started harmonizing and snapping. We all walked out of the pizzaria jamming different hip-hop classics, like “Karma”, by Alicia Keys.
After Pops picked me up, Ma had been home waiting. She was sitting at the table.
“Hey Leen, who was at the café?” she was already trying to make-up.
I told her Jazmine, Brittany, and the girls say hello. I didn’t mention the guys that were there. I’ll save that for ten from now, when we reflect on nights like this, when we both laughed, smiled, and cried all in one night
Ma and I were talking over tea a few days ago. There was a piece of paper and pen in front of me, so I started doodling while we spoke to one another (those who know me can say I don't know how to sit still). After a few days of improvisation and implementation of fluorescent hues from a Sharpie highlighter and a few Crayola crayons, the fluorescent translation of my inhibitions was born. I plan to make Sal a T-shirt with it.
Last Saturday evening my cousin Vincent, "Cente" performed in a dance battle competition. So proud of him.
If you visited my room frequently you'd find that approximately every week the arrangement of the furniture, pictures, posters, and trinkets on my shelves is slightly altered in a way that creates a refreshed effect of optimism. I guess you could say it represents my way of life as I've known it for the past 9 months or so teehee...I love myself...and my mom, my dad, Salvo (bro), and everyone else for that matter.
To me a friend is more valuable than any amount of money there is. This sketch was at first ready to be thrown out, for its birth was merely an attempt to create a figure of the female shape that I would use to sketch clothes...which is something I like to do, if ya haven't picked that up lol.
My imagination gave birth to this gown I picture made of a light aqua silk, during my 8th grade Spanish class. The clingy but not too clingy would flow, with the black beads creating an illusion of a fishscale pattern swimming through the aquamarine silk as the dress moves against the model's figure.
My current manicure symbolic of me being one to stand out with my distracted persona, I guess.
"
Some kind of fool never knows when to keep his or her mouth shut. This is because he or she does not think prior to speaking. Didn’t your mother always tell you to do so? Well mine did. She scolds me for a lot of things, my Ma. Mold man, othe other hand, is the type that’ll let you say all you want to say until you are out of breath,yet with so much to say.
One night this past summer, I had a mad fight with my mother.i’m sure she was feeling just fine, having had the last word, which was “Now shut up or you’ll be sorry.” Mommy decided to meet a couple girlfriends at some Chinese jointto sip a glass a wine or something. If you know me, I was wired, and not in a good way. I was angry at my Ma, she said some nasty things out of anger. I knew right then and there. They were not true, therefore she didn’t mean them. I would’ve been some kind of fool to just sit in my room that Friday night and be angry, just like I was some kind of fool to keep arguing an issue my mother and I, believe both agree on. Growing up in a tight-knit Sicilian family, arguing can become a habit. You’d think I would go to law school to become a lawyer or something.
So I paced back and fourth in my room, kicked my dresser, ripped out a few hairs from head, tore up a magazine, bit my fists, and cried hysterically, all within about ten minutes. If you know me, you could picture the entire scene from this episode of my life. The reason why my breakdown lasted so short, was because of my pure stubbornness I learned from the best. Putting my mentality to use (not sure if it was good or bad), I refused to give Ma and any satisfaction by spoiling my evening. I would not sit in my room and cry. I would not sit in my room with Michael Jackson’s “Leave Me Alone” blasting. Instead, I gave every cool cat I knew a ring, planning to meet with someone, somewhere. “Just get me outta here,” I kept telling myself.
But no one was around. Every person I know in my neck of the woods, was either not picking up the phone (which sets me off big time), or busy elsewhere. I don’t know too many people around where I’m from that I can go out with for kicks. I’m a family girl that follows her folks wherever they go, because that’s just the way it is. Whatever other friends I do spend time with every now and then, live in New York, including my cousins. I don’t drive, nor do my parents allow me to take the bus anywhere, or commute with anyone other than themselves for that matter. So I decided to rebel. I thought, “I’m good, and it’s all good.” I put on my make-up, fitted denim jumpsuit that hugged my curves, teased my hair, grabbed lip gloss and a couple of bucks and through it all in a wristlet. I picked up my cell, and dialed my cousin Livia’s number.
“Hello?” she said. In the background, I could hear her three little rascals messing around.
“Yeah Liv? It’s Leen Lee,” she calls me that sometimes. “I’m telling Chubby [my Pops] I’m meeting some girlies at café 360 in town. But really it’s only me going. I ain’t sticking around here. This place is beat. Just thought I’d let you know in case anything goes I know who to call right?”
she laughed so loud my eardrum nearly broke. She told me I was bringing back memories from her adolescence. They were all too familiar, She said to be careful, and to call if I needed her. I’ll always love old Liv.
I told my Daddy to take me. He had no problem. A billion question is what he did have. The once in a while I do meet someone I know some place this is what goes on, thus I’m used to it. Nothing was stopping me on this July night. I would get dropped at the café where all the people of my town go to grab a cappuccino and gelato.
Once I got there, ordered a double espresso, and I was waiting to pay. Who walks in with a Gatorade in hand, my girl Jazmine, “Ja-Ja”, Quinones. She asked me what in the world I was doing alone at the café. She told me to tag along with her and Brittany Philips, Shontia Tate, and few other cats I had been acquainted with at school. I would’ve been some kind of fool to stay if the crowd headed toward an ally where I would never want to be. But I know Ja, she’s a good girl. Pretty soon I’d get picked up anyway. So I grabbed my coffee to go, and followed Ja-Ja.
We crossed the street to meet Brittany and the rest of the gang at the pizzaria, where Brittany was munching on a fresh slice. I had already had some Chinese for dinner. It was pretty late.
I made the girls laugh a little with my story about how my night was going so far. Before you knew it, Jazmine and this kid Ja-ree started beat boxing. So I started harmonizing and snapping. We all walked out of the pizzaria jamming different hip-hop classics, like “Karma”, by Alicia Keys.
After Pops picked me up, Ma had been home waiting. She was sitting at the table.
“Hey Leen, who was at the café?” she was already trying to make-up.
I told her Jazmine, Brittany, and the girls say hello. I didn’t mention the guys that were there. I’ll save that for ten from now, when we reflect on nights like this, when we both laughed, smiled, and cried all in one night
