Kou T. Nyan

Another Car Story

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeeeeep!

I’m not the best driver. However, I KNOW that a honking horn can be for anyone for anything. I finally slowed down to see a driver and his passenger urgently pointing to the back of my car. Too bad they couldn’t tell me word-for-word what they were pointing at, just like it’s too bad that I couldn’t tell them I knew what it was they were referring to.

My back tire was completely flat, and somehow I managed to drive the highway with it. Drive the highway…two days in a row…like a bawse.

“Why Car?” I ask half-jokingly. “Have I not been good to you? Made sure you got your oil changed? Drove almost exclusively to nearby locations, at some point ensured you got a tuneup every year? What about those monthly vacuums I give you with the Yankee Candle air fresheners? What about the tropical smelling carpet cleaner I use?”

The next thing I knew my front passenger lights were completely off. I drive at night with one front light on hoping for the best. One day, this sweet old woman and her friend went out of their way to drive next to the driver’s window to tell my friend, who was driving my car at the time, that my light wasn’t working.

My car had many flats. I used to panic working extra hard to make sure I get to a location to have it fixed. But this year was different. After I found out that I had a complete flat, I stated it to another friend and just took the highway to drive them home. Although I knew there may have been another hole in the tire, I brought it to the gas station to pump air in it.

I was so close to “E” I could taste it. My car had so many issues which I wanted to ignore. The piercing shriek of the brakes every time it rains, the passenger seat window that won’t go up or down, the light, the tire, the need for gas, the fact that I haven’t had an oil change since September 2018, the fact that my registration expires this month…this all comes with being a car owner, yet, it all makes me chuckle.

I found it especially amusing how much car trouble I’ve had these past years. God always got me through, though. I don’t want to act like there wasn’t a solution to every problem. Nor do I want to gloss over how annoying it can be for the moment when other areas of your life are so uncertain. Car trouble is usually the cherry on top.

So I filled the tire with air the first day and ignored it. I hoped to be able to get around enough before caving into seeing what was actually wrong with the tire. I went grocery shopping with my mom and returned home to find out that the flat returned. I wanted to pick up some items in a nearby city and did just that. By then the flat looked awful, but I drove back home behind a car with a dented back door partially opened. I knew to do this made my car look like it was in fantastic shape and I offer no apologies for what I did.

Kou’s First Vision Board

I heard something pealing one night and drop to the floor. It was dark, so I popped out of bed and turned on the light. I learned it was my vision board and had a hard time sticking it back to the door.

I know I’m not the only one, but there is something about this year that feels like the last few months had been a few years. I created a vision board for the first time in December. I won’t say what did or didn’t come true because this year isn’t over, but I WILL say that creating a vision board was inspiring yet a bit annoying.

It’s like when you find a shirt for what you thought was the best price only to find it at a different store for cheaper. It’s like changing your blog platform from the one everyone is hyped about to a new one filled with uncertainty. The reason I’m saying this is because I hear people talk about the effectiveness of vision boards and I’m learning whether or not it will work for me.

I made a goal list in 2016 in hopes that all my dreams would take off. My goal list was cute (just take my word for it) and made with Powerpoint. However, it seemed like nothing got off the ground. So I didn’t make another list and hoped to ride the waves. To an extent, going with the flow could be the best bet, but it left me feeling vulnerable sometimes. So the following year I did a clean sweep of my life, opening myself up to reposition. Fast forward to December 2018 where I was a part of a group that encouraged members to do a vision board. My version of vision boarding was write down stuff I wanted to get done this year no matter how vague and try to make it look cute with some stickers, cutouts and fancy letterings. That’s when someone was like, “But sis, you supposed to use pictures ’cause we visual.”

“SIS, I’m trying my best here. Sheesh! I’m just getting started.”

I was hesitant towards vision boarding, because, although I love me some mystic/supernatural stuff, I wasn’t sure how Christian it was, but I guess it’s worth a try.

After creating a vision board, someone asked me what my goals were for 2019. I told them I couldn’t really explain because I did a whole arts and crafts project about it and created a five-month planner. I didn’t want to show them such vulnerable art. Yes, I started this year creating. It was exciting for me. It felt so long since I participated in an arts and crafts project. I was excited and worried because ya girl was going back and forth about planning and just doing. All I can say about my vision board is that we’ll see. I already see some plans that I’m not too sure will happen anymore and some that I’m like, “YES, mos’ def, we got to make this work!”

The Vet Who Never Was: I desired it; never did it- yes, I know I’m still young but…

Screeching echoed through the halls of the apartment building, following a herd of footsteps pounding down a flight of stairs. A group of little girls, my cousins, were running for their dear lives. I wasn’t sure what they saw, but I was not trying to find out. I began to back up against the wall as I saw a boy a few years older than me with his hands closed in front of him appear from the doorway my cousins came from. He turned and walked calmly down the stairs towards my direction. It became apparent that my cousins were afraid of either the boy or whatever he had in his hands.

His facial expression is a blur now. I was probably five or six at the time and the youngest and smallest of my group of cousins. Hearing them scream terrified me and I was scared that whatever the boy had it was going to attack me and life as I knew it was going to be over.

The boy realized I was the only one who didn’t run for her life. He moved closer as I pressed against the wall. What was he going to do to me? I could tell some of my cousins were unsure whether to continue to run or make sure I was okay.

The boy leaned close and opened his hands. In his hands, he held a tiny gerbil and silently gave me permission to pet it. I fell in love with the little creature. I wanted to be cautious because it DID cause my cousins to panic. But I felt such affection towards this animal because it was small like me. I stroked its fur and felt myself becoming calm.

“Kou’s brave ‘cause she loves animals,” One of my cousins announced.

Eventually, some of my cousins came back to see the gerbil. Those were some of the moments I remembered from childhood. I did love animals, I loved them so much that one of the many things I desired to be when I grew up was a veterinarian. As I got older, somewhere amid the arts, middle and high school, work, college, stress, and general adulting that dream disappeared. Now, I just want a pet…but my bank account, my allergies, and my living situation said no. Plus, I became a writer.

When I think about this, I believe it’s okay not to want to do something you may have wanted to do as a child. Especially, with how many jobs transform throughout the years and how much you change. I do believe that what you wanted to do as a child sometimes gives you insight or clues about what you’ll end up doing as an adult. I wish I can give you the direct connection of how being a lover of animals made me the writer I am today, maybe I can save that for another post. Not to say that perhaps at some point in my life I will be back in school to be a vet, but I’m writing to let you know that, you’ll be iight if you didn’t walk the original path you set for yourself. What’s a profession you wanted to get into as a child but as an adult never pursued?

Untitled April 13, 2014

Much higher than you anticipated

You were on cloud nine

Now you are on your feet

I guess you’ve understood that reality isn’t so sweet

So you think about that fruit forgetting that thoughts form to sin

And you just can’t win

You see you blame God and everyone else for what you just did because something was just missing

Oh so you realized your mistake

How much did it take?

Stomache?

Fatigue?

Did you try to wash yourself and couldn’t get clean?

You ask for forgiveness though you couldn’t forgive anyone yourself

Or maybe you did

Cuz you were forgiven

You realized that you are a sinner and perhaps your dark side make you whole

It makes you normal

So what chu gonna do now?

Writing up your “co-worker”: The Legend of BettyAnn Sue

“Does anyone know what they’re doing?” A woman who may have been in her fifties, burst in the room about a moment ago. She stood in front of me looking tired or a bit careless.

It’s probably 6:45 in the morning and you’re already annoying me. My manager looked up at her from across the room then returned to her work. I felt like I may have given this woman a glare with my glasses tipped on my nose, “Yes, why?” I responded, This woman is and will be a problem…

I should’ve been agitated. One of the workers (aka supervisors) was a no-call no show and left our staff a person short. I had a gig as a clerk at the polls, and this was expected to be one of many big elections. However, before the woman walked in, I neither gave into agitation or anxiety because I was so happy to make extra money and that everything we needed, aside from the missing employee, was right where they needed to be. The manager was busy turning on the polling machine, I made sure I had everything on our station, and the supervisors were making sure the rules of the polling place were visible.

“I haven’t been to training,” the woman admitted (let’s call her BettyAnn Sue). “And I don’t know how to use those devices.” She pointed at the two polling pads that I’d set up on the supervisors’ station.

“Oh,” Feeling slight guilt, I prayed for forgiveness. I didn’t mean to judge BettyAnn Sue; I just didn’t like her tone. I promised her that when I was done, I’ll show her how to use one of the pads. She sat at the supervisors’ station.

Later, the manager was told that BettyAnn Sue didn’t belong in our room but rather the other polling room right across the hall (yes, literally a few steps away). The person who was assigned to us was standing at the doorway with her things. She looked relieved that the mix up was solved. But she played herself if she’d thought that.

I was training BettyAnn Sue on the polling pads. She whined about not wanting to go across the hall. BettyAnn Sue was way too tired from a long shift last night to do such a thing.

I turned to my manager with a face BEGGING her not to allow BettyAnn Sue to get away with this. But she calmly replied, “Okay, you can stay here.”

Oh, manager, I looked up to you. How can you betray me like this?

I think about a half hour went by and we began to see a crowd lining up outside ready to vote. I went back to my station. The manager and I had only three supervisors, and BettyAnn Sue still needed extra training. The manager went to help her, and the doors were opened. People came piling in. I came to help BettyAnn Sue, again, as well. This meant I went back and forth to the supervisor’s station and back to mine if a voter needed extra assistance.

BettyAnn Sue was supported by my manager and myself. She complained about the work and the confusion. Eventually, the crowd dwindled, and my manager and I returned to our table to work.

“You need to learn English,” BettyAnn Sue snapped at my manager’s father who worked closely with the Spanish speaking population and primarily spoke Spanish. My manager gently corrected her as I cringed.

Things eventually got quiet. After some work, I looked up to see that BettyAnn Sue was texting. Now, it’s not just one of those quick texts that you do, and you get right back to work. She was texting with her feet reclined on two chairs. When people walked in to vote she acted as if they weren’t there making another supervisor sign them in. She then disappears for 20-30 minutes, sleeps at the table (still using all three chairs), disappears again, eats and texts. If I’d written all that she has done; this post would be too long.

None of us said much. Maybe rolled our eyes every now and then. It was apparent that we were better off doing all the work ourselves.

BettyAnn Sue eventually took a walk to Dunkin (without telling us). When she returned, she said to us that we might get free coffee. I, of course, was excited. She sat and ate. After about an hour or two something else happened.

My manager stepped out for a few minutes. BettyAnn Sue turned to me, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Excuse me? What were you doing exactly? My manager’s father and another employee looked at her with disbelief as she talked about how she worked all night and had to go back to work later. She was far too tired to complete her task.

She got up and left as my manager walked in.

My manager asked that I write her up. I couldn’t believe what I was writing, but I’ve accepted that after all that, at least I’ll get a check.

I am Not Your Relationship Goals, Sir.

“You look like the type of woman who holds it down for her man,” he said. “You see, I’m a rapper, and I be on the road a lot. And you know there be groupies and stuff, and I’m looking for a woman who knows I’m coming home to her. You seem like the one.”

One Question. How does someone standing at a bus stop in a coat two sizes too big who didn’t engage in a genuine dialogue with you make them a woman who could “hold it down” for a man? I was in my early twenties and confused at the gentleman’s reading of me wondering if the bundled up baby face made me appear that way to him.

It was another cold dark evening in the city. I was standing at the bus stop bundled and zipped up, hoping to get to warm soon. Two men were standing there with me. One spilled his guts to me about how women in my city aren’t right (or something). While his friend, an older gentleman who was an aspiring rapper, was trying to smooth talk me into being his woman.

Please don’t do this to yourself, sir. I thought.

Kou at early twenty-something:

1. Dated many people at a time.

2. “Flirt” was one of her native tongues.

3. Was good at pretending that she was dating for a purpose (marriage).

4. Internally rolled her eyes at scripture-d conversations about how a woman should carry herself to attract “the one.”

5. In training to no longer truly believe in “the one.”

6. Had a few crushes and was not sure how a serious partner would fit into her life.

So, for you to assume, sir, I thought. That this young woman is first, mature…at all, two, not feeling people much younger than you are, three, desires to settle down is an error on your part. I’d probably “cheat” and turn around and tell you, “You know what you’ve gotten yourself into!”

He asked for my number. I said no. He handed me the phone. I said no. The bus finally came, we walked inside. I sat in the back of the bus with hopes he wouldn’t follow me. He did. He told me to put my number on his phone. I held the phone for a while. No, again. I gave him back the phone, and he went on to bother another woman.

All I can think was, “Seriously, I need to graduate and get a car.”

I Like People but My Breath be Stinkin’ Sometimes

I often feel like there’s a hanging booger in my nose. It’s annoying. I’m not sure if it’s a winter thing because I don’t recall feeling this way during the summer, but it feels like no matter what I do it comes right back.

I’m sitting at a bakery with my laptop and a smoked honey green tea (thanks Sin Bakery) which has been chilled for maybe over an hour. My glasses are weighing at the bridge of my nose as I always pause to rub on my left nostril.

The quirky things I think about when I’m in public often make me insecure. Honestly, it’s mostly the booger that may or may not be in my nose or wondering if my breath stinks.

So I wonder, why is it when your breath smells, that’s when people want to get in close to your face to talk. In these situations, I lower my head, in others I confess, “It feels like my breath stinks.” You might be wondering if people at least give me a Tic Tac or WinterFresh – not often.

The hard thing about these quirks is that you want to control them. You want to be aware, but you don’t want anyone else to call you out on them. I understand that I’m using “you” a lot, but if it doesn’t apply to you, then that’s cool.

In college, my roommate and I had an event we wanted to go to. I rolled out of bed and got dressed because I knew we’d be late if I’d do anything extra. When we got to the destination, I said hello to a few people like I was a superstar then we sat together in the back of the auditorium.

I don’t remember the talk, but I remember this:

Me: (Talking about a random topic with enthusiasm)

Her: (Leans into my ear) Kid, your breath smells!

Me: (Embarrassed as…) Aw man! Okay, do you have gum?

Her: No.

I may have snapped at her about not telling me that my breath smelled before I played social butterfly. How many people were searching frantically for oxygen after I met up with everyone? From that day on, I made a conscious decision to brush my teeth after a nap.

Afternoon Tea with My Sis:How to Ask for Help without Making Yourself Feel Like A Failure Because Yo

Challenge accepted.

Remember, the work starts long before the Ask. But here are three steps of how you can successfully “Ask for help without making yourself feel like a failure because you asked…type thing.”

1. Remember that you’re a BAWSE and accept that while being humble.

You don’t know everything, and neither does the person you want help from. Consider that one day they or someone else will need your help with something. Also, remember the things you’re good at. Perhaps before the Ask write a list of your strengths and affirmations. Say them to yourself and thank God.

2. Ask: Identify your specific need(s) and how that person can help.

What do you need help in and why? How can this person help and why did you ask them? Please, consider that seeking help is an investment in yourself, your project and the people around you. You’re bettering the world by bettering yourself. Asking for help from someone could be a way to fill their cup. Imagine that extremely organized buddy of yours feels like they completely failed and you asking for their help might encourage them to remember that they’re not a failure.

3. Show gratitude…without bringing yourself down

Compliment the person on their skill before and/or after the Ask. Don’t forget to tell them “thank you,” they didn’t have to help you at all or take the time to listen to your concerns. However, DO NOT offer “thank yous” that comes with “I’m so glad you helped me because I suck as a human being.” Trust me, I’ve done it more times than I can count and it doesn’t feel good.

Please remember that YOU are FANTASTIC and none of us are perfect. This is ongoing work to remember this, but it’s worth it when you do.

And if that person tries to make YOU feel like a failure. Please take the advice of my friend in my head, DJ Hustlenomics:

Hope this helps, Sis and Folx! ‘Til next time!

#2019 #selfimprovement #failure #howto #help #Ask #weakness

Afternoon Tea with My Sis: How to Ask for Help without Making Yourself Feel Like A Failure Because You Asked…type thing

Challenge accepted.

Remember, the work starts long before the Ask. But here are three steps of how you can successfully “Ask for help without making yourself feel like a failure because you asked…type thing.”

1. Remember that you’re a BAWSE and accept that while being humble.

2. Ask: Identify your specific need(s) and how that person can help.

3. Show gratitude…without bringing yourself down

Please remember that YOU are FANTASTIC and none of us are perfect. This is ongoing work to remember this, but it’s worth it when you do.

And if that person tries to make YOU feel like a failure. Please take the advice of my friend in my head, DJ Hustlenomics:

Hope this helps, Sis and Folx! ‘Til next time!

Kou In A Bonnet: Fresh Coffee on a Budget

2018 taught me to work with what I got. So I do.

The past couple of years (just kidding- a GREAT PORTION of my young life) I’ve involved myself in volunteerism and advocacy. As empowering as this sounds, this is not the main subject of this post. I would like to tell you that from some of those experiences I found myself with a Ziploc bag of coffee grounds, an opened pack of coffee filters, leftover powdered creamer and suggestions on how to keep your coffee grounds fresh for an extended period. Two of the best advice I’ve gotten in regards to coffee was:

1. After opening a bag of fresh grounds leave the bag sealed in the freezer
2. Or leave the grounds tightly sealed in mason jars.

These bits of advice came in handy when I took some coffee grounds home a few months back after volunteering.
Unfortunately, the grounds were made for the standard coffee pots, and I only had a French Press. I didn’t want to go out of my way to purchase the French Press version of the grounds. So the first time around my coffee-lover friend grounded some Ethiopian coffee beans for me. After I ran out of that, I just had to come up with a plan.
I was going to make my beautiful French Press into a standard coffee pot. I didn’t want to experiment to see if standard grounds would work knowing that the ground for the French Press is slightly larger. I taped a coffee filter to the top of the French Press. I poured some of the coffee into the filter and poured hot water over the grounds. Bam. Coffee!