MRI, PTC, BL.A.M.s (The Week In Letters)

Last week was a bit crazy, in a good way. It provided the kind of stimulation I’ve been so used to the past few years, minus much of the stress that made me leave New York. A routine haircut become something a bit more as I sat in the barber’s chair and saw something odd reflected in the mirror (I was about to write “through the mirror,” but for the first time, I realized how incorrect and creepy that sounds).

This is what my family imagines
my barbershop looking like, I bet

Anytime a black dude comes into the barbershop I take notice, for obvious reasons. But this time was different – this guy had the markings of a blamerican (read back through the blog to my post on black American males to understand what those markings are, and how a bl.a.m. is distinguishable from an African). Once I heard him speak on his cell I was 99% sure that dude was American. Not wanting to let the opportunity to let him know that there are more of us here pass by (I know, it sounds like I’m making this out to be an alien planet, but sometimes that’s what it feels like), I decided I’d holla at him. Only, my barber then decided to do a long, drawn-out manscaping of my chin and ‘stace area, which is of course, ironic because I barely have facial hair. This made it uncomfortable to speak so I just waited until he was finished. The dude ended up sitting in the chair next to me, and at the first chance I got I said “You from the States?” He replied in a kind of disinterested, curt manner, which only let me know for sure that I was talking to a brother from America. “Yea” he said, not really looking up from his phone. That was exciting news to me – finally I can say I met my first confirmed black American male in Qatar after living here for 17 months. I asked him what part, and then we exchanged some info about each other before settling into convo about (what else?) sports. 7,000 miles from home and barbershop talk is still the same, I guess. He’s working at a military base. We exchanged cell numbers, ‘cause like he said, “You never know” (interesting what just a few words can mean when you’re talking to someone who speaks your language - "You never know" as in "You never know when having another black person's contact will work out for you somehow, some way, some day"). The barbers, mostly Sri Lankan as far as I can tell, seemed pretty interested in this impromptu bl.a.m. meeting. I was grateful to have a cool convo with a cool cat from back home (even if Florida is nowhere near NY, it’s damn near in the neighborhood compared to Qatar), and maybe we’ll chill someday.

I got my life-hack on and made one of these because transporting my dock to the bathroom to hear my iPod is a hassle (y'all don't even know the struggle of needing an adapter for half of your electronics). 

I also made it because it looked fun, easy and I got a crapload (ha, get it? "crapload?") of tissue rolls laying around.

Another first was me attending parent teacher conference for the first time since 2008 as something other than a teacher (well, and a big brother). The child I tutor hasn’t been doing so hot (thus, the need for me), so I attended his conference to see what kind of support he needs.

 It was your typical conference, if not a bit tangential as the dad decided to tell us about the pressures of building a new house (dad is mad cool though), but the best part was going back and talking to my old colleagues. That kind of thing is always a lot more fun when you’re not in the trenches stressed out with them. I was asked if I’m thinking of coming back, and that answer is the same as it always was – no, because it’s not the right fit for me. However, there’s another opportunity that’s arisen, an opportunity that would take up the next coupla paragraphs…if only I could talk about it at this time. Sorry to be so secretive, but at the moment I have way too much incentive to NOT talk about it, even though I really really want to.

So I took an MRI on my shoulder, which is something I should have done 20 years ago. It was my first MRI – why didn’t anyone tell me what an MRI was like?? Sonuvagun, that thing was not pleasant. I mean, I didn’t expect it to feel like a massage, and it wasn’t painful. But I think I’d almost prefer pain to the boredom of lying very still inside of an empty toothpaste tube for 30 minutes, with only elevator music in headphones to keep me entertained. I wanted to be like, "I'd like the option that doesn't make me feel like I'm being euthanized." It was all to the good though, even with that 30 minutes feeling like 30 hours. (I did find myself freestyling over the sounds of the scanner. Nothing else to do in there besides trying not to pop off boners here and there.) I’m one step closer to getting this shoulder repaired, at which point I will be the bionic, supersonic, ironic, ionic, iconic, slightly moronic StarPower. The Indian technician walked up to me and started a conversation about Barack Obama, which happens about as much as you’d expect. He said that he’d like Barry to take a crack at India in 2 years, and I was like, “Barack is having a devil of a time with 300 million people; 1.3 billion people trying to figure out Obamacare might be slightly problematic.” 

I’m talking about Obamacare like I know ANYTHING about how it works. Social networking provides the bulk of my “what’s going on back home” info, the delivery of which can be anything from surprisingly sophisticated to hilariously inept. Kinda like me.

I had my first conference call for my health coaching program, and it was nice and painless. I’m horrible over the phone but having 6 people to share the load made things much easier. I set a goal this week of incorporating a new, unfamiliar green into my diet and using a new recipe. I’ve been a rock star in the kitchen lately, if I may say so myself (and I do), and although the food will humble you, I’m anxious to see what I can do with these leeks I bought. My health coaching class has affected my life positively thus far, particularly in the way of what we call “primary foods,” things like spirituality, relationships, joy, finances, creativity and social life. It’s made me really focus on becoming balanced in all areas of my life. Living here has provided me the understated luxury of peace. I’ve been able to become more grounded and strip away ego in places I didn’t think I had any. But it’s also enabled me to accept that I’m exceptional and start to not shrink from the brightness I give off.

We’re going to Oman this week, because the lady has a conference. This will be the 7th country we’ve visited in the 17 months we’ve been here, which is dope. Honestly, I don’t reaaally feel like going (plus we’re taking separate planes, grrr), but I know that I’ll be excited once we arrive. My next blog post’ll probably happen sometime around then, but if something fresh happens beforehand, then I’ll jump right back in. Otherwise, y’all be cool like how y’all be cool, and if you feel the blog, share it with your human friends. Peace.