Peachy...peachy apples

Have you ever cooked naked over grease???

Well… yes, I burnt my penis. But RomiE went to the store this past weekend and bought fruit. I’m just not too sure what kind of fruit it is. They look like peaches but taste similar to apples…Papples, maybe?—peachy apples.

The very next day after swearing off Jamba Juice for LIFE, I Had another smoothie; a Power SiZe Peanut Butter Mood with a double shot of Protein, no bananas, thank you. Deeeeelishhh!

—Kimora what was meant by referencing RomiE’s and my finances as “ours” is simply that. One plus one has always equaled two.

—Capt’n, thank you for your suggestion. That is something I shall slowly put into practice, but put into practice nevertheless.

—and Jason B, it was OUR pleasure. Thank you for inviting lil ol’ us. What should be in the works is a plan for us to someday, soon, do it again.

Other than that I’m speechless. I feel really blasé today—like vanilla. Last night I prepped a 191 at work, and did I mention that they’re thinking about hiring me. SHHHHHHHH!!! Keep your fingers crossed!! I’m not suppose to know. Damon and Sharonda told me. FALSE: actually Damon took the liberty of shaking my hand one day and saying Between you and me, Congratulations. I didn’t know what congratulations meant or what he was shaking my hand for, I was just excited to be touching 'em. But by the end of last week, the BosS went on Vacation, and Sharonda, one of the leads, told me, that Jossie, the BosS is looking at me to hire, she’s gonna ask you when she returns from her vacation, she said. In two weeks. I could be fired between now and two weeks. But we shall wait and we shall see. Praise be to Jehovah.

But RomiE’s been thinking about going to school. He wants to further pursue his education and snatch himself up a degree at Roosevelt University, quit his job and submerge himself in the college atmosphere of downtown Chicago. So between completing his FaFsa, and between swimming, and buying Papples, RomiE’s been worrying himself thin over the whats and hows of his essay. What should I say? How should I say it!

Calm down, WomiE. Relax.

What I’ve asked him to do is get his first thoughts out on paper, and what he’s done is just that; he’s such a good listener. But by scratching your thoughts out like that you make yourself a clay to sculpt into the perfect essay.

After completing his first draft which involves more than just a response to the essay prompt, he’s sequestered a few opinions from coworkers and has decided to sail into a totally new direction for the essay, which is fine, but brings us back to square one; the Worrying Square. I just hope that material he’s mustered for his first attempt doesn’t get forgotten and fall by the waste side because it was obvious how urgent he felt the need to write what he wrote after I read it. Peachy...peachy apples.

The Essay, Draft One

February of that year my mother/best friend died of cancer after a vicious battle. My mother taught me In the late winter of 1996 the biggest disappointment of my life to date occurred. In that I could do anything if I applied myself. After her death, I lost this lesson and it has taken 10 years to get it back. Fear and ignorance have kept me from attaining my ultimate goal—a college degree. Fear of failure and ignorance to the fact that failure is part of life.

In 1997 Saint Martin de Porres, my high school, closed to very little fanfare. The one and only time that a Catholic School education was a hindrance was about to present itself. The Chicago Public Schools stepped in after the closing of SMDP and opened Southside College Preparatory on the sprawling campus. One problem—my knowledge of religious history did not translate into CPS credits. After a summer school stint and a US Postal Service Graduation in 1998—it was time for some searching. These searches lead me to Champaign-Urbana on my father’s dime. He was sure my immersion into the “college scene” would make me snap out of my two year funk. No such luck. Living in ChamBana taught me one thing and one thing only, how to get to “C-Street”; the only gay club in the area.

Jerome Harper, Sr. or Dee Dee, as he was called, was born in 1953 on the

“Low End” of Chicago’s South Side. He served in the Army during the Vietnam War, owned a business in the 1980’s and was great at real estate investments. Until I moved back to Chicago in 1999 from downstate partying, this is all I really knew about my father. We were close, he seemed rational and he loved me—that was enough right?

I once read in a, National Geographic, the results to a contest they sponsored. The contest, “Pitch the greatest invention of all time”, had entrants from around the world. The winner was from Any City, USA and his invention, Hindsight Correction Lenses, would have been instrumental in my life. Those lenses would have stopped me from thinking that Jerome, Sr. would have been “okay” with my coming out the closet. Those lenses would have stopped me from being disowned. They would have ensured I had a place to live, food to eat and money to pay for school. But it was only a contest to pitch the invention.

I am now humbled at how many families were willing to take me in and let me sleep on a sofa or crash in an empty bedroom. I jumped around for a year or so—settling in with my first partner. This living situation led me to look for work that would ensure I was away from home as often as possible. Late in 1999, I became a flight attendant with United Airlines. That job and that relationship lasted about a year. As short lived as it was, it reminded me of what my mother tried to instill in me—all things were possible through me. While I was reminded of my mother’s thoughts, it took four or so more years for me to really get it.

In 2003 at the age of twenty-three I was licensed to sell real estate in the State of Illinois for a brokerage firm. I had managed the technology in for the previous three years. I sold one house, a 500k townhouse to my sister and brother-in-law. That sale took over four months to complete and when the math was done I made less than $20 an hour. I soon opened my eyes and saw that the agents in the office were miserable. To be successful they had to work 60, 70 and 80 hours a week. The price they paid was too high for me—I lost interest. I felt that in order to make “real money” and have a quality of living I needed an education to back up the license—you know, “work smart not hard”.

At the time I was at Century 21 I was taken under the wing of one of the founders of our 30 year old firm. He suggested I look into Roosevelt University; I did. Roosevelt impressed me immensely. At my age I was elated to see a university with an adult learning program with majors I was interested in. In addition there was a graduate program in Real Estate furthering my interest. I took the first step and began to think about how to pay for this new endeavor. I filled out the FASFA and soon realized I was in trouble, the government wanted my estranged fathers tax information. Upon seeing this I gave up—there was no way I would approach him and ask for his 1040.

Soon afterwards I left Century 21, my job for over four years, to find something that would allow me to grow more. I joined the throngs of unemployed Chicagoans and hit the pavement. With my background in Real Estate, my agency placed me at the John Buck Company. This placement made me realize I wanted something other than real estate. After that assignment ended I was placed at an “obscure” organization called, The Chicago Community Trust. After the assignment I was asked to interview for a full-time position at “The Trust”. While working in philanthropic services I was introduced to forms of philanthropy and community involvement. This introduction led me to entertain community involvement. This year I was invited to the local board of directors for the Chicago Youth Centers in South Shore. Since my election to the board I have been named the Chair of the development committee. Involvement in the community in which I live, is of the utmost importance.

Attending Roosevelt University will allow me to sharpen my current skill set and develop more. Formal education is the piece of the puzzle that I am missing—vertical mobility is not possible for me without it. The program offered in organizational leadership is especially on task with my goals for my life.